Page 66 of Earthbound

A slow moan emanated from him and he began to rock back and forth. Then he exhaled, and said bleakly, ‘Because I was a fool.’

Lettle moved to sit down next to him. Her movements were slow, as though approaching a wild cat. ‘My father always said there are only two things that make us fools: love or power,’ she said carefully. ‘Which one was it?’

‘Both,’ he said.

‘Were you really down here alone for a thousand years?’ she asked.

From the touch of madness in his eyes, she had already ascertained the answer.

‘Yes, but I wasn’t always alone. And I wasn’t always awake.’

Though Lettle was frustrated with Afa’s piecemeal answers, she contained her annoyance. She thought she was beginning to understand him a little, and his reticence seemed more likely a symptom of his loneliness.

He wishes to draw out the conversation…

Lettle had an idea. ‘Why don’t we strike another deal. Let me tell you the entirety of my life, and then you do the same.’

Afa’s smile lit like a spark, his expression greedy. ‘It will be a long night.’

Ajax raised his snout to the ebbing fraedia. Night was drawing in.

‘It will.’

Afa crossed his legs and looked up at her, waiting. Sometimes Afa seemed ancient, almost otherworldly, and then sometimes, like now, he seemed a boy, young and innocent.

Lettle began. She spoke of the Bleeding Field and the Forever War, how she had been raised looting bodies, and foraging for food. To her embarrassment, tears wetted her cheeks when she spoke of her father and his death. She brightened when she came to talk about the Gural diviners, and the community she had found there.

By the time her tale reached Mosima, her throat had grown hoarse. She told him everything she could of the fae realm, hoping to pre-empt any questions. Finally she ended with the impending war at Mosima’s boundary, and her journey here with Alder.

Afa was quiet, his eyes reflecting the dimming fraedia. When he spoke, he barely whispered, ‘You have lived a rich and tragic life, thank you for sharing it with me. It has been a very long time since I have been moved by words alone.’ Some of the madness in his gaze had abated.

‘Will you tell me your story now?’ Lettle’s hands twisted eagerly in her lap.

‘I admit I do not want to. And when you proposed this exchange I had already decided that I would garner all I could from you and offer nothing back.’ He smiled ruefully and his resemblance to Alder was a punch to the stomach.

He is Alder. The reminder disconcerted her.

‘But after your generosity I see no reason not to comply with the terms, no matter how painful it will be nor how it will disturb the peace betwixt us.’ He took a deep breath.

‘I did not always live in Kaa’pah’lie. I was born in a small hamlet in the foothills of the mountain. My mother,’ he winced, ‘I barely remember her face now–time has robbed me of that too–she named me Afa like I said. I had a younger sister, who was born just a year after me. Her face I do remember. We looked so similar with our grey eyes and fair curly hair that no one could distinguish one from t’other. But as the years lengthened our bones and sharpened our minds, our paths diverged. I grew dissatisfied with the village we were raised in, ambition luring me across borders.’

He crossed and uncrossed his ankles. ‘I spent a year in a Bosome Temple in the Elven Lands, learning everything I could about divination. I spent two seasons in the Fae Lands, studying fraedia crystals and the fae’s magic. I traversed from continent to continent, read books, studied at universities. I had a veritable hunger for knowledge, but nothing could sate me.

‘I had decided there was only one thing that would satisfy my curiosity–learning the magic of my ancestors. Human magic in my time was feared, its knowledge hoarded by those with power. But none of that lore lay with my people. Our language is the crucible of our magic, and we had lost so much of it over the years. We knew small things, like verasis.’ He touched the bud of a flower next to him, and the flower bloomed. ‘But our language had disappeared from circulation. Because like all magic, it must be spoken with intention to have an effect. For example, I can say verasis now, without meaning, and naught will transpire.’

It was true, the second bud he touched did not open.

‘That’s all there is to it? Intention?’ Lettle asked.

He shook his head vigorously and for longer than was socially normal. ‘All magic requires sacrifice. Even the gods could not create from nothing; we are the pieces of them. Humans were made from the very seeds of the earth, and so our magic can wield all that the world proffers.’

‘How do you define the terms of the sacrifice?’

Afa looked at her, and she felt his gaze see her very soul. ‘You have uncovered the perils of this magic quickly. I understand now why you are such a successful diviner.’

He stood up and pulled a book out from the wall. ‘Everything in the sanctuary outlines different spells, with their probable sacrifices. I say probable, because magic evolves, it changes over time, just like animals and plants. This spell here will increase your corn yield; the words translate as: Corn grow fast and sturdy. The expected sacrifice for abundant crop is that the adjacent field will become barren overmorrow.’

‘Does it have to be those exact words?’