Blood Magic

Queen Maren sat in her throne, her gilded crown hovered just over her head in a lavish display of magic. Princess Alda sat beside her, lips pinched in a frown as the citizens of Vulindhela began to line up just outside the threshold of the chamber doors.

“Guinevere,” Queen Maren smiled at me softly, “Please allow the first in line entry.”

My steps echoed off the marble pillars in the grand throne room. There was an aging man at the front of the line, his arm looped through a younger woman's. He had an ornate cane but it wasn't tall enough and he was bent over at the waist.

“Do you need help walking into the room?” I whispered softly to the pair. The woman looked exhausted and she nodded.

The man took my arm easily and together we walked in a jagged line into the room. He stumbled slightly but grinned, he had teeth missing and chapped lips. I released his arm once he was centered before Queen Maren and gently slipped a satchel of herbs into the woman's hand.

“For his pain.” I offered, “Thank you for your patience this morning, I know you must have arrived early.”

Queen Maren waited patiently for me to return to my post at the side of the room. Madame Renea was across the room, her wild hair restrained in a slick bun at the base of her neck. Renea was a friend of Mother's when they were young and my father turned to her for comfort after the loss of Mother. The man between us all shifted uncomfortably and I wished there was a stool or something to offer him.

Queen Maren cleared her throat, “Welcome. Please state your names and purpose.”

“I am Neia and this is my father Leon Bonebrake.” Neia’s voice cracked, “We have lost nearly 6 acres of land to the drought. Our entire village has experienced losses like this. We fear famine is not far behind for our people.”

Princess Alda tapped her fingers impatiently on her arm, “You've dragged your elderly father here for sympathy?”

“No.” Neia said, “He is unwell, I can't leave him home alone any longer.”

Queen Maren dismissively waved at Alda, “Never mind that, how long has it been since the last rain?”

“For five months or so, it has not rained this summer.” Neia shifted her weight to better support her father, “We've complained to our Lord but nothing has changed.”

Madame Renea interjected, “There has been no requests made by a Lord for drought, my Queen.”

“Thank you, Renea.” Queen Maren smiled, “Who is your Lord, Neia?”

“It's Lord Barnes.”

Queen Maren glanced at Madame Renea who shook her head curtly, “No, my Queen.”

Queen Maren sighed deeply and pinched between her eyes. Her crown spun lazily in the air as she considered what to say next.

“Lord Barnes has refused intervention from the crown on this issue.” Queen Maren's throat sounded raspy, “I can however offer that you speak with the grain master and have a shipment delivered to your village.”

Leon straightened ever so slightly, his teeth bared against the pain, “You are the Queen. Why does it matter what that fat bastard wants?”

“Father, please.” Neia fussed gently, “You promised you wouldn't make a scene.”

Neia's exhaustion seemed to multiply before our eyes. Tears beaded up in the corners of her eyes as she desperately tried to calm her father. He was frantic now as if he'd forgotten where he was and how he'd gotten there.

“I understand your frustration.” Queen Maren offered softly, “Allow it to comfort you that I am working tirelessly to soften Lord Barnes. He is just unsure of things is all.”

Princess Alda scoffed and she turned to look at me. She had freckles that highlighted the crooked stretch of her nose. She'd broken it when we were younger and it never seemed to set right. She was frowning, her eyes desperate for a reason to leave the throne room. I offered a shrug in her direction before stepping forward to help Neia back out the chamber doors with her father.

Neia pulled at the cuticles around her thumb, “So there is really nothing to be done then?”

“Sir Balbon will take you to the Grain Master.” I offered gently, “The Queen cannot bend the will of the Lords without consequences.”

I handed Sir Balbon a slip of green cloth to deliver to the Grain Master. Sir Balbon was 2 summers my junior but he'd long ago outgrown me. He had gentle eyes that made your soul feel warm and cared for. Often I'd told him he was too kind to be a knight.

“And what of you?” Neia asked softly, “Are you not one of the Queen's witches?”

Guilt pooled in my stomach, “Yes. I am. But I cannot work against my Queen.”

“The Lords are to meet soon, hopefully Lord Barnes will accept help then.” Sir Balbon chimed happily, “In the meantime, the Grain Master is a generous man.”

Neia's pretty eyes shimmered with tears just before they rolled down her thin cheeks, “We came so far. It's a two day travel for us because he must rest.”

Leon babbled senselessly beside her, his eyes were foggy with his own thoughts. He was even thinner than Neia and his skin was scarred from years in the sun.

“She's sworn to the Queen's Coven, she cannot do anything beyond the Queen's command.” Sir Balbon offered so softly it was like a summer breeze at the end of spring, “I understand your frustration. We'll arrange a cart for your travel home so that your father may rest the entire ride.”

“A wonderful idea Sir Balbon.” My throat felt like it was swelling shut with guilt, “Safe travels, Neia and Leon. The Queen blesses your path.”

Sir Balbon looped his arm with Leon and led them down the elegant halls of the castle. He was smiling and offering casual conversation.

Madame Renea stood in the doorway of the throne room, her eyes narrowed as she watched me, “There is nothing that can be done.”

“Sir Balbon is going to arrange them a cart ride home.” I shrugged.

“Of the rain, foolish girl. There is nothing you can do.”

“I know.” An ache grew heavy in my chest.

Madame Renea didn't offer a response, she turned sharply on her heels and walked back into the throne room. Next in line was a young woman who had drifted into a light sleep while leaning on the wall. She was hardly old enough to be separated from her mother.

“Ma'am.” I said firmly, “Ma'am, are you ready?”

She startled awake and nodded vigorously before following after me into the throne room. My mind drifted away and back again with each passing visitor. The line seemed longer than it had been lately and there was an ache for water across Lord Barnes’ land. Neia and her father were sat outside in the hall when I left to inform those still waiting that the Queen was to break for lunch. Neia’s gaze felt suffocating as I answered small questions and provided passive answers.

“You could fix it then, if Barnes was to agree?” Neia said it so quietly I almost didn't hear her as I passed.

I stopped but I could not bring myself to meet her eyes, “Yes. But I am bound to the Queen's Coven. I cannot act without her expressed direction.”

“You cannot, or you will not?”

I smiled, a sharp feeling on my face, “I cannot. I am bound by blood to the Queen.”

I exposed my palm for Neia to see the pinkish white cut across my hand. Her brows furrowed and she opened her mouth to speak but her father fussed beside her.

“Why would you do that?”

“Witches outside of the Coven are vulnerable, magic without rules is chaos.”

“Your rules will allow my family to die.” Neia hissed, “This cart of grain will only prolong the suffering for a little longer.”

Madame Renea cleared her throat behind me, “The Queen requests your presence Guinevere, she is ready to resume.”

“Yes, Madame.”

I turned away from Neia and felt her words sting in my veins. They echoed louder when Madame Renea sighed beside me, “A vile woman, spare her words no mind.”

The day dragged endlessly. I watched a woman with a sick child on her hip cry for the crops they had lost and the town well that had all but gone dry. A drought had fallen over the lands and each time Queen Maron promised them a cart of grain and a gentle apology that nothing more could be done. Many of the Lords took a distaste to the Coven, Witches had been hunted for centuries and now we sat in the throne room.

“The Lords do not have to know we have acted in any way.” I offered, as a mere suggestion, when the room finally fell quiet.

Madame Renea eyes flared across the room, “You would risk the stability of the crown for rain?”

“People will die.”

“People will always die.”

An angry shock shot down my spine, “This isn't the same.”

“Guinevere.” Queen Maron offered softly, “There is nothing we can do.”

“I understand.”

Madame Renea cleared the space between us, “Do you?”

“Yes.”

Her lips stretched into a mean smile, “A witch without a coven is a dead woman.”

“I know.”

“Good. You're excused for the day, please send Lia in your place.”

I nodded sharply. There were tears stinging at the back of my eyes. A grief so large I couldn't swallow it squeezed the air from my lungs. My steps echoed in the silent room and the man next in line looked hopeful as the doors opened.

“Pardon the wait, someone will collect you shortly.” I offered as I passed by him.

Neia's words were searing in my mind as I walked to the Coven’s Chambers. Asking the clouds to rain was an easy spell, something I'd mastered nearly a decade ago and yet the Lords refused our help. The Lords had decided they would rather the death of their people than the help of a witch. Lia gladly took my place and smiled brightly as she ran from our shared bed chambers. The silence felt loud and suffocating.

The pinkish white mark on my palm stretched from the base of my first finger and carved in a jagged line to my wrist. It had burned. I remember the blood dripping down to the marble floors and staining my skirt. Queen Maron was younger then, she'd only just been crowned. I was younger then, a child who'd just lost her mother.

Asking the clouds to rain was an easy task. The guilt swirling inside me steadied as the first few sputtering drops fell from the sky. Clouds heavy with rain blocked out the sun and cast everything in a cool grey outside. The cut on my palm became an ugly black line, the blood seal broken.

I stood there for what seemed like a lifetime when Madame Renea finally burst through my chamber doors, “What have you done, you foolish girl?”

“I've saved my people.”

“The Lords will have you killed.” Madame Renea was frantic in a way I hadn't seen before.

My heart thundered in my chest, “They don't know I've done it.”

“They will.” Madame Renea whispered, “You cannot ask me or Maron to save you from this.”

“I'm not asking you to save me. I'm asking you for just a moment to close your eyes and pretend these chambers were empty when you arrived.”

Madame Renea took a shaky breath and for a moment she held my gaze and she seemed so old. Time felt heavy on the wrinkles around the edges of her face. Renea closed her eyes, her fists clenched at her side and with a gasping breath I grasped my wool cloak and tore down the halls of the only home I had felt safe in. Sir Balbon was leaning against a wall gazing out a large window when I passed him. He seemed so peaceful and he smiled when he saw me.

“I hope they make it home before the trails wash out, but I'm sure this will lighten everyone's spirits. Especially the Grain Master’s.” Sir Balbon’s laugh was angelic.

I smiled back at him, a poor imitation, “I hope so. Can I ask you a favor?”

“Sure, Guin, anything.”

“I need your sword.” I held out my unscared hand, “Please.”

“Why?”

“I can't answer that right now, please just trust me.”

Sir Balbon unhooked the hilt around his waist and handed it to me, “I trust you.”

“Thank you.” I kissed his cheek and grasped the heavy blade in my hands, “Forgive me.”

With a pulse of magic Sir Balbon slid down the wall dazed for only a moment. My steps echoed like cannon fire down the halls. I couldn't breathe, my lungs burned and my skin blistered beneath the wool of my cloak. The rain did little to cool down the blood in my veins as I ran. The black mark of my broken blood seal had begun to spread, that inky black line blurred like a bruise on my palm. It would have to go, but I couldn't bring myself to do anything about it as I ran from the castle. My mother was a runner when I was very young, before she settled down with my father and moved into the capital city.

I remember standing on the edges of our property watching as my mother set ablaze our home. Her long wavy hair blew in the wind so softly. We traveled light and we disappeared as quickly as we'd arrived. I'd grown too comfortable in the castle, I followed the rules until there was nothing left of my mother in me. My pulse screamed as slid on slick cobble stone and darted around disheveled donkeys who never expected it to rain again.

“Where are you headed so quick, Guinevere?” The Gate Master at the city’s edge asked me, his hair was slick with rain but he smiled.

My mind scrambled, “Urgent business for the Queen, sir. I'll have to regale you with the details upon my return. Have you a dagger I could borrow? I've run off without my own.”

“Yeah, but mind yourself she's been freshly sharpened.”

“Thank you.”

The Gate Master tugged the heavy iron chains and allowed me past the main gate. The dirt roads outside the city had turned to mud and cart tracks dug deep in the soil. Neia and her father would never have made it far and a sinking guilt for my impulsivity began to gnaw at the back of my throat. Leon would die if he wasn't provided shelter. And so despite my mother's voice that screamed louder than before to protect myself first I set off in the direction of Lord Barnes’ lands.

With the tip of the Gate Master's dagger I pricked my finger and allowed my blood to mix with the falling rain. With a snap a small arch of magic reflected the rain away from me and gave me a moment to breathe. Water pooled in deep trenches by the roads as dry soil struggled to soak up the rain.

“You are a fool.” I laughed to myself, my darkened palm only continued to spread to my fingers as I walked.

Neia and her father really hadn't made it far by the time I found them. Neia was fussing with a wheel spoke that snapped and their donkey huffed in exacerbation. Leon sat quietly in the cart, his face pointed up and his eyes closed.

“You.” Neia huffed with a laugh as she saw me approach, “You did it, didn't you.”

“I don't know what you speak of, I can after you and your father, concerned the rain would worsen his condition.” I offered easily, “When did the spokes snap?”

Neia pulled her lips into an odd snarl, “Do you take me to be a fool?”

“No.” With a grimace I squeezed my palm around the dagger’s blade in my cloak and offered it to the rain. The delicate arch around me expanded to cover the entire wagon, “Let me help you.”

“The spokes broke before the rain, we slipped off the trail and I've been trying to get us going again.” Neia said.

“Alright. Have you any twine?”

Neia laughed, her black hair seemed longer than before now that it was soaked through with rain, “What do you expect to do with twine?”

“Have you any?”

Neia produced a small spool and threw it in my direction. She was angry and tired and it showed in the lines on her forehead. Delicately with shaking hands I tied a knot around each broken spoke and offered the slowing blood of my hand. The twine danced to life and warped the broken spokes into an almost perfect recreation. Neia stood silently, her eyes wide.

“Do all witches drain themselves of blood?”

“No.” I shrugged, “The Coven does not allow for blood magic.”

Neia's eyes dragged across the blackening skin of my hand, “Is that because of the rain?”

“Yes.” I said, “Your cart should make it home. I can offer a rain cover for your father in exchange for the cart and donkey after you arrive home.”

“Very well.”