Page 8 of Aofie's Quest
“What kind of sacrifice?” I asked, assuming the worst.
Turek’s voice dipped into a hush. “Blood. She wants blood. I’ve heard the tales. Once upon a time she lived with the gods and goddesses above in the heavens. She was their favorite until she tricked the gods.”
The story rang with familiarity, although in Jezebel’s version it was the goddesses who were jealous of her. Intrigued, I pressed Turek for more. “What trick did she play on the gods?”
Turek shrugged and bit his lower lip. “I don’t know.”
His tone told me he did but his mannerism suggested the tale was too embarrassing to share. She must have stolen the attention of the gods, as she had said, but what had she done to be cast down? The gods and goddesses seemed holy, sacred, and far above the folly of Labraid, and yet Jezebel’s story made it sound like they weren’t too different from mortals. It aroused my curiosity, even though I knew it would be best to put her out of my mind. If my luck held, I’d never see her again.
Turek was still speaking, his words quick. “As punishment for her tricks, she was cast into the Vale of Monsters, where the trees submit to her will. She controls everything there, even the fowl of the air, the elk in the heights, the foxes in their burrows, and the bears in her cave. In exchange for a sacrifice, she grants my people the right to live in our village, a stone’s throw from her domain.”
I scowled in frustration. Why did these people submit to her will? But the answer was all too clear. I recalled what she’d done to me. I had no say. Even if an army went up against her, once the mist descended, chaos would ensue. The vines would take them prisoner, dragging them to her lair to be, what, tortured and eaten? I wondered if the meat I’d seen roasting over the blue fire was indeed animal meat, or something else.
Panic laced my next words. “Can she leave her lair? Will she come down to your village and take everyone?”
Turek squeezed my hand. “You will be safe in the village.”
Safe? Just how safe would I be if the villagers submitted to her will? What kind of hold did she have on them? I opened my mouth to ply Turek with more questions when a little girl stepped into view. The dirt trail was fairly open, and even though it was dark, I thought I should have seen where she’d come from, but she simply appeared. She was about the same age as Turek with dirt-brown hair tied into two braids. Her velvety eyes were unusually large in her peaked face and she, too, was thin, as if she’d missed a meal or two for months in a row. Her legs were dirty and covered in marks like she’d run through a thicket barelegged. A dress, two sizes too small, hung off her shoulders and ended above her knees. The hem was frayed and hung unevenly.
Turek grinned and waved. “Hello. This is Aofie. I found her near the pond. She defeated the witch woman.”
The girl examined me and spoke with measured calmness in a voice well beyond her years. “Did you?”
“I knocked her down.” I shrugged.
“Oh.” The girl frowned, lifted the end of one of her braids to her mouth, and chewed on it. Her gaze went to Turek. “It’s late. They will be worried.”
The grin dropped from Turek’s face like a stone sinking into a current. “I know, but I brought her. They won’t punish me this time.”
Sacrifices. Punishments. My brain reeled at the words. What kind of community was I walking into? For a moment indecision flickered within and I wanted to remain unknown, hidden in the forest away from questions I did not know how to answer. But this was my quest now. The Beluar Woods were behind me and I’d entered the kingdom of men. “Do the people in your village know where the river is?” I asked the girl.
She nodded, but a wary look haunted her face.
Chapter Eight
Night hidour progress as we entered the vale. The blue-black sky spread above us, peppered with twinkling lights so beautiful it was breathtaking. I stared in awe. A chill wind whipped past us as we walked and I hoped we were close, for I was cold, and as the adrenaline of the day wore off, a wave of exhaustion washed over me.
I learned the girl’s name was Reish, and although she was vague about herself, I gathered she was an orphan who lived on the streets. She did not seem concerned about the plight, though, and I wondered why no one had taken her in as the centaurs had taken me in.
The trail led us up a steep incline and I gasped as I looked down at the vale below us. My initial panic and anxiety melted into peace and a warmth filled my body. A gentle slope led down to the village, where homes of wood with slanted roofs were built close together. Yellow light bobbed unevenly, lighting up the road. The scent of basil and garlic floated up to me and I turned to address the children. Unlike me, they hadn’t paused at the rise but continued to walk down the slope to the village, brushing aside golden flowers and blackberry bushes whose overgrowth spilled across the path.
The vale was aptly named and the trail widened into a road as we reached flat land. Buildings lined the road, more than I’d ever seen before. My eyes widened, taking in the sights, smells, and sounds, curious about what this place would look like in daylight.
“Aye!” A rough shout stopped me dead in my tracks. “Who goes there?”
A burly man poked his head out of the first building, raised a staff, and shook it. The top of his staff bumped against the sign that hung above the door, sending it swaying back and forth with an ominous creak. I eyed it with trepidation, for words were written on it, highlighted by the lantern that hung next to it.
“Uncle Armis, it’s me,” Turek called, waving his spindly arms. “I brought Reish and Aofie. She escaped the witch woman!”
“Bah,” Armis shook his staff once more. “Don’t just stand there, come in, come in. Soup is ready and I dare say your ma and pa will be worried about you, sneaking off like that again. Tell your friends not to stand there with their tails between their legs and come in here and eat!”
Reish perked up at the wordeatand dashed up to Armis. She flung her arms around his meaty waist before slipping inside. Armis mumbled something under his breath, but I was too far away to make out the words. Turek hopped inside, dancing from one bare foot to the other as though he stepped on a bed of hot coals.
My eyes were drawn to the sign and I stared, puzzling out the words. Written words took me a moment to comprehend, for although the centaurs taught me how to read and write, there was no daily use for it in the Beluar Woods. Practical skills included hunting, foraging, cooking, making clothes, and fighting. Not reading or writing.
Vale Inn, I read.I’d heard of inns; they were places for weary travelers to spend the night. My shoulders slumped as I recalled what I’d learned about the kingdom of men. One did not earn something for nothing. If I were to be admitted to the inn, I’d need to give the innkeeper something. As I approached Armis, I readied my excuse. “I have nothing to trade—”
“Who said anything about trading?” he boomed, interrupting my speech. “Come in. Aofie, is it? You look like a she-knight. Well, you deserve food and drink for fighting the witch woman. We are eager to be rid of her, at least some of us.” Armis’s blue eyes twinkled as he spoke and my heart warmed to him instantly.
