Chapter 29

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Orenda’s frown made me extremely nervous. I had just told her about what I had heard, but by the looks of it, she already knew something about it. Figures- last to know, as always.

“So, how much did you already know?” I ventured.

“Most of it,” she responded distantly. “No one ever knew what Legend-Elect she had swayed, though. Thor?” She laughed a little. “That definitely comes as a surprise. I would have thought it would be Loki,” she mused.

I sighed. “So everything else is history?”

“Everything is history.”

“You know what I mean, Hecate-Elect.”

She rolled her eyes at me. “Yes, everything else is history.”

I started pacing. We were in my room, she sitting on my bed, and I was pacing the floor like a caged wolf. Orenda’s eyes followed me like a creepy painting, watching me have something that resembled a panic attack. “I’m sixteen,” I sputtered. “How can I do this? I should be back with Da, cozy in Dublin and worrying about what my stupid rich friends will do next! Not thinking about how one of them, the bitchiest one, actually belongs in Fableland. Musical magic? Living Natural Magic?” I flailed my hands in the air. “I’m sixteen!”

She scoffed at me. “Oh, hush child.”

“I am not-”

She held up a finger, interrupting me interrupting her. (If that makes sense.) “Listen to me. Will you listen to me?”

I stopped pacing and scuffed my training boots against the ground. “Yeah. Go for it,” I said sarcastically, sinking into my bed.

“Good; listen closely and listen well. You would not have been chosen for the Maeve trials if you were not capable of ruling. Maeve is the queen of the Unseelie court, and it seems that the Council believes that you are worthy of being named Maeve-Elect. The council is the closest thing to being all-knowing that any civilization will ever get, comprised of every all-knowing deity-elect there is. Are you saying that you doubt their decision?”

“Yes, absolutely,” I answered immediately. “But whatever- I’m stuck here now.” I barked out a bitter laugh. My hands came to my forehead.“May was well do my best.” My heart clenched- I was stuck here, for the rest of my life… I swallowed the block in my throat. No crying; not here, not now, not ever.

“And if you win?”

I scoffed.  “You know that won’t happen, Orenda. I know no magic, barely any combat skills, and have no clue how to navigate my through a political minefield.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Well, I can definitely teach you about magic.”

I scrunched my eyebrows. “You’re going to have to catch me up. Hecate is the goddess of?...”

She grinned maniacally. “Magic.”

“You’re kidding,” I sputtered, bringing my head out of my wiry, useless hands. Maybe if I won, with the magic that Maeve had in the legends… Hope sprung into my chest, like a phoenix from ashes.

“Do I look as if I’m kidding?”

I turned to her. “Teach me. Teach me everything.”

*****

The sun blazed above us; it was one o’clock and I was already exhausted. We were in the arena, in a spirit circle.  The podiums that all of the Maeve-Trialees had been introduced on had been removed since and replaced with what I assumed was the standard. (As standard as a mythological stadium is in a fantasy land right out of a fairytale could be, at least.) The tightly fitted stones formed an endless knot of spirals; I stood on one of the six spirals, and Orenda on another in front of me.

“There can be six castors in a formal duel, and they may switch sides at any time. Right now, I’m going to teach you a few things about musical magic,” she shouted at me from about four and a half meters away. (Fifteen feet.)

I shrugged. “Get to it, then!” I retorted. “Incase you didn’t notice, I’m in a Trial, and my next challenge should be coming up!”

She parted her lips to reveal a feral grin. “Oh, you want me to show you?”

My gut twisted, but I tried to hide it. “That’s what I said.”

Orenda opened her mouth and started to weave a low, mournful melody.

As she sang, my knees crumpled beneath me, and tears sprung to my eyes. My fists balled at my sides, completely useless. This was the grief that was felt as the one you loved the most, the one you could never live without, was ripped away mercilessly. You knew that they were going to a better place, but it still felt as if you were being torn in half. As sobs wracked my body, I was flooded with memories of home- Da, teaching me how to garden, Adda and I meeting for the first time, spending lazy days in downtown Dublin… all of it.

Orenda’s voice dropped to a whisper, and then she was done. As her voices faded, so did the stabbing grief in my chest. When I could finally breathe, I glared at her from beneath my eyebrows. “What. The. F**k. Was that?”

“What you’re going to sing in the upcoming challenge,” she replied nonchalantly like she hadn’t just crushed me completely. “I have a little bird telling me that the next challenge, which is in one week, will test your fellow trialees it’s users on their musical magic aptitude.” The words that rolled off her tongue were spiced heavily with her Caribbean accent, making aptitude sound like a spell unto itself.

“Who’s going to be on the receiving end of that nastiness?” I asked, getting to my feet wearily as if I had been kneeling for an eternity. Damn, that song-spell-thingie had hurt like hell.

“That nastiness, as you referred to the incantation, is a Gaelic funeral lament named Mist Covered Mountains.” Her tone was cross as if I had disrespected something sacred. To her, it probably was. She continued. “I will teach you as much as I can in the week, but you have no experience, as far as I know of.”

Neither of us had strayed from the spirit circle. “So, what happens now?” I asked impishly. “Are you going to teach me everything you can? It’ll be fun, kinda like the week before exams, where I have no social life because I have to ace this thing, otherwise I’ll be royally screwed.”

“Something like that,” she replied. A Cheshire grin crept across her face. “However, you will get much, much less sleep.”

I scuffed the stone at my feet. “That sounds like tons of fun. Should I call a clown?”

“No.”

I pouted, crossing my arms. “Why not?”

Orenda sauntered over to me efficiently. “By the time I’m done with you, you’ll be able to make your own clown.” She continued past me, then looked back. “Aren’t you coming?” she asked expectantly.

I shook my head and sprinted after her.