Page 84 of The Savage Queen

Not to mention, inside herAbhailequarters, Aisling was left alone with her thoughts. Visions of the Lady, of Danu, of Fionn. Each and all pursuing her, nipping at her heels as she clawed for an answer to what she was. Who she was. Answers she feared she’d never find.

Aisling pushed through the crowds, shoved by those in as much of a hurry. Druids, seemingly afraid of the moon and its luminous aura. As though its pale light was poisonous to the touch, bewitched should they not find refuge before the moon sat atop its miraculous throne.

A shop billowing with incense and traced with windchimes, lanterns, and bundles of herbs, caught Aisling’s attention. Sheapproached it cautiously, avoiding the crush of villagers as she slowed her gait.

A woman emerged from the warm light of the shop’s interior. She was perhaps a decade Aisling’s senior, vibrant despite the wintertide and painted in fae runes. She tossed a blonde braid over her shoulder, crossing her arms over her woolen dress.

“Come inside, stranger,” she said, pushing aside the garlands of herbs to better see Aisling. “By the light in your eyes, I can tell you’re looking for something. Or someone.”

Instinctively, Aisling pulled her hood closer, shrouding her features in shadow, forgetting for a moment she was still glamoured by Lir.

“I’m just passing through.”

“Even so, you might find something of interest inside my shop. The choice is yours.”

Aisling chewed on the inside of her cheek, considering. She had nowhere else to go and she’d draw suspicion wandering around Bludhaven’s streets alone. So, Aisling nodded her head, stepping inside the woman’s shop.

The shop’s interior was a mess of mortar and pestles filled with crushed sugar leaves, dried pine branches, bottles of smoking incense, parchments and books, jewelry made of precious stones and bones, and a table strewn with white rocks etched with symbols in Rún.

“I saw you enter Bludhaven with the Roktan prince,” the woman said, following Aisling with her pale eyes. “Are you also aFaerak?”

Aisling shook her head, wandering further into the shop.

“A princess perhaps? From one of the southern or eastern continents? The west?”

Aisling said nothing but the silence spoke loudly enough.

The woman’s expression brightened with curiosity, stalking a few paces behind Aisling.

“Not a princess either then. We don’t often have visitors in Bludhaven. Especially those who accompany princes andFaeraksthis far north.”

Aisling did her best to ignore the woman, brushing her fingers over the open tomes and studying the illustrations more closely.

Charms for forgetting, was written on one page.

Potions for love, incantations for dreams, songs for opening, and touch for memory, on the following pages.

“Those are spell books,” the druid woman said, stepping beside Aisling.

“Can druids cast spells?” Aisling asked, genuinely curious. As far as Aisling was told, she was the only mortal, in either this realm or the next, known to harness and summon thedraiocht.

“No, although some enjoy believing they can,” the woman said, studying Aisling more closely. It occurred to Aisling then that perhaps her questions were common knowledge amongst mortals. Her ignorance piquing the shopkeeper’s interest. Throughout her childhood, Aisling was both sheltered behind iron walls and unaware of the duplicity of the world. Of the gray that blurred whatever Aisling once believed was black and white.

“Druids harness a certain…inspirationfrom the natural world. A connectivity with the bark of a tree, the undercurrent of a river, the layers of a mountain, the shape of ice. Nothing in comparison to the Sidhe themselves but impressive by mortal standards nonetheless.”

“Then why the spell books?” Aisling asked.

“Some druids believe, with enough time, study, and strength of mind, a druid bears the potential to master such spells and even cast them at will.”

“Yet even the fair folk do notcastspells,” Aisling added. “They breathe through their magic.”

“You know quite a bit about the Sidhe,” the lady said, narrowing her eyes. Aisling smiled half-heartedly, eager to change the subject.

“And what of the runes on the table?” Aisling asked. The woman turned on her heel, so Aisling took the opportunity and ripped whatever page the tome was already opened at.

Touch for memory.

Aisling crumpled and pocketed the page, starting for the threshold even as the woman still spoke, distracted by the runes spread across the table.

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