Defender and Ash

Defender and Ash

Sakura Satou

The humid air weighed heavy on her, and with every step she felt like she was sinking deeper into the damp meadow. The air was so thick she could almost part it with her hands. The rotting stench on the wind made her ill.

The trees that surrounded the swamp were spindly things yet not a scrap of sun was visible. Oppressive clouds had covered the sky before she even entered the forest.

Her wand hand sweated with tension. Her pulse raced.

“Ashley.”

As she grew dizzy, a voice called her name. She turned, and a well-dressed young man—far too nicely groomed for this dank forest—stared back at her, his head bowed. The gentle wave of his hair was bound loosely in back, and with his fur-trimmed parka he’d have looked entirely at home walking the streets of London.

He stared at her with eyes like wet obsidian and called her name with a strangely powerful voice that carried well. That was all it took to calm her.

Her partner asked if she was all right, and she nodded. Adjusting her grip on her ash wand, she took a deep breath. She was fine. Pursing her lips, Ashley turned back towards the swamp.

***

On a clear autumn afternoon, the gancanagh saw a figure walking along the edge of a deserted pasture. He put out his pipe and headed over. Even from a distance he could tell it was a woman.

He had not met a human woman in these parts in quite a while. One too many cases of a dangerous man assaulting them, and the number of women walking alone through deserted fields and forests had dwindled away to nothing. Seducing women was a gancanagh’s nature, so in human terms this put him right out of business.

As he got closer, he saw she was quite young. Mid-to-late teens. Encouraged, he called out to her in honeyed tones.

“Wee lass, where you off to all alone? This is a dangerous area.”

He planned to lure her into the deserted forest by feigning concern for her well being, but a laugh like the winter wind upended his plans.

“Ha ha, a gancanagh? My first time seeing one of your kind,” she said.

The girl turned around, her cloak’s hood pulled deep over her eyes. Her tone was completely unrattled. Only now did the gancanagh realize what she was.

She shouldered a rucksack from some distant time, with both an ancient incense lamp and a wand fastened to it. The scent of herbs wrapped protectively around her.

“Ach, a mage?”

Now that he’d identified the girl, he could clearly sense the magical power emanating from her. How he had not noticed before?

The young mage chuckled.

“You didn’t notice? I always thought your penchant for luring young women to their deaths was rather brutal, but it seems you’re more of a fool,” she said.

He considered getting angry at the insult but sensed no hostility in her tone.

“But you’d even hit on someone like me? I suppose human standards of beauty hold no meaning to a faerie.”

The girl looked up at the gancanagh, a hint of bitterness in her tone. Only now did he get a clear look at the face beneath the hood.

The face itself was not unattractive, but a nasty burn decorated the right side from her eye to her ear. The skin was a dark, leathery red. She was clearly still young, but white-flecked hair spilled from out her hood. A human would likely pity the poor young thing or be repulsed, but the scar did not draw the gancanagh’s attention.

Her eyes did. They were strange. The irises were an ordinary brown, but something about them reminded him of a dark stormy sea, a shudder beneath a calm exterior, a hollow lurking within. Those eyes seemed to suck him in, to give the strange sensation he was falling forever.

On the verge of being unable to tear his gaze away, the gancanagh shook his head and broke eye contact.

“What’s a mage doing here, then? That way leads to a forest and a marsh that neither human nor neighbor dare enter,” he said.

The marsh had long been there. Humans loathed it, called it cursed.

“Yes, that’s where I’m going.”

This surprised him. He looked the girl over again. She was certainly a mage, but he did not think her a particularly experienced one. Some mages possessed centuries of knowledge, but she likely had far less than that. Less than a decade’s worth, in all likelihood. Meanwhile, this marsh had been considered dangerous since ancient times. For a rookie mage to go in alone was tantamount to suicide, and she did not even have a familiar with her.

The hollow lurking in her eyes didn’t suggest the kind of ambition that would risk everything for glory, so why would she go somewhere so dangerous? He couldn’t begin to imagine.

“At your level, heading there is like marching off to die,” he said.

The fae considered mages to be like them, yet that did not mean the fae took an interest in mages’ actions. He had neither reason nor right to stop her, yet he felt strangely moved to warn her.

The girl laughed.

“Now there’s a shock! Never took the gancanagh for busybodies.” She’d clearly got the message not to go, and still she laughed. Either she was confident, or… “I know the horror of that place well. I’ve been here before.”

That was a surprise. She’d foolishly charged in once before and with even less experience? Or had her master shadowed her that time? Either way, she seemed disinclined to back off now. That was all he could do. Warning her in the first place had been more than kind. The gancanagh shrugged.

“Then do what you like.”

“I will. Thanks for the warning, though.”

With that nod to politeness, the young mage began walking again. He watched her go, his eyes drawn to the size of the large rucksack on her back. It was like the rucksack itself was walking. Unable to take his eyes off it, the gancanagh watched until the rucksack disappeared into the forest.

Alex lived on the road, mostly. Everything she owned in the world was crammed into her old rucksack or in the gunny bag she had slung over her shoulder. Her rucksack alone was pretty heavy, and the straps of it dug into her shoulders. She was used to the weight after all these years, but that didn’t change just how heavy it was.

Added to that, the air in the forest had a heaviness of its own, a sticky, unpleasant denseness. Though the sun should still be high in the sky, the forest was dark enough to suggest twilight. This place was as gloomy as ever.

She wiped the sweat from her brow, her hands chilled by the tension. Her fingers trembled. Still, considering last time she entered this forest she’d immediately keeled over, this was progress.

That had been a long time ago, maybe a year or two after she’d run away from home and started teaching herself magic. She’d wanted to prove she could do something, prove to herself she wasn’t without talent. When she’d heard about the cursed swamp, she’d headed right to the forest around it.

The forest had many legends.

They said a monster that ate human souls lived in the marsh. Faeries of death gathered there. When plague or war or calamity broke out, the entire forest would weep. In the oldest stories, it was said that ancient peoples used to offer sacrifices to an old god. The monster in the marsh was what that old god had become.

Many who approached the forest found their health deteriorate. Some saw strange, inhuman shadows around the forest at night. Cursed forests like the Dering Woods in Kent or Hoia Baciu in Romania were famous the world over. This place was not as well known, but the locals feared it. None went near the place by light of day, much less at night.

Yet every year, several people entered the forest and perished. Mostly, these people were hoping to die. Rumor had it the forest possessed a mystic power that lured in those who longed for death. This frightened people even more.

The souls of those who perished in the marsh roamed its edges for eternity, calling to those who wished to die. Or their souls became a part of the monster when it ate them. Either way, a fledgling mage could not emerge from this place intact.

It had been a foolish choice.

In the end, Alex had never made it to the marsh. She’d gone a few yards into the forest, then turned tail and fled. Someone with her inexperience couldn’t hope to conquer this place. She’d been overwhelmed with shame and regret.

Returning after all this time only reminded Alex of how powerful the marsh was. But she wouldn’t flee this time.

Why would Ashley come to a place this terrifying?

Unlike Alex, her sister had been studying under a real mage. She’d known full well this place was out of her league.

But one stupid letter…

Alex found a clearing in the trees and set her bag down. She’d come the bulk of the distance here on foot to conserve money and was feeling the miles. She needed to be at full strength before reaching the marsh. She would camp here for the night and head for the marsh in the morning.

Alex gathered the driest kindling she could find, produced paper and matches from her rucksack, and lit a fire. She pulled out several small bags, chose one tied with a green ribbon, and put the others away. The bag was filled with dried Saint John’s Wort, which had the power to ward off evil. As the fire came alive, she tossed the dried leaves onto it.

She’d picked the herbs at the right time on a moonlit night. She’d emptied her savings, buying as many expensive magic-imbued minerals as she could afford. For the first time ever, she’d asked an artificer for something made-to-order.

She knew full well her abilities as a mage were dubious at best. She’d never found a proper teacher and was mostly self-taught. She’d run into another mage at a pub once who’d bluntly told her she’d die young if she kept this up, but he hadn’t offered to take Alex on as an apprentice.

Truly, she enjoyed learning. She’d met her share of mages, and several of them had spent a few hours giving her pointers, but never once had her apprenticeship lasted. Alex knew full well she didn’t have the kind of talent that would make someone want her as an apprentice, so she felt she couldn’t very well ask. She didn’t want to endure the pain of not being chosen, the humiliation of it, the sadness.

She sat close to the fire, chewing on some bread she’d bought in town, and watched the darkness beyond the flames. The air was sometimes chilly, sometimes lukewarm, always stifling. It was like something below was trying to pull her into the earth.

Fear coated the area. She rubbed her well-used, cracked wand, enduring the tension…and before she knew it, it was morning. She had not slept for very long. The fire still burned.

The forest was dark even in daylight but not as bad as it had been at night. Feeling slightly better, Alex stood, stretching her limbs. She hadn’t slept much, but she rarely did. Her fatigue had ebbed considerably.

She ate the rest of the bread, gaining strength. Putting out the fire, she stowed the bag with clothes and things safely away. She placed only what she needed in the gunny bag on her shoulder. Taking a firm grip on her wand, Alex headed deeper into the forest.

She checked her course on a compass, but there was some magnetic interference; the needle refused to pick a direction. She gave up and put the compass away. Instead, she headed towards the unpleasant thickness in the air, forcing herself onwards as her body begged her to flee.

No matter how long she walked, the view never changed. Twisted trees loomed on every side. A mist swirled through the forest, and she could barely see ten meters in front of her. The air grew heavier the farther in she went.

She must have walked for an hour. At last the air grew so thick she felt nauseated. Only then did the trees around her begin to change. Thinner, and with scarcely any leaves, they resembled devil’s pitchforks sunk hilt-deep in the ground. Beyond these trees, she saw the marsh.

So little light broke through that the marsh’s surface was dark and viscous. The stench in the air smelled like rot and turned the stomach. Alex had to scold herself several times just to make it to the marsh’s edge.

The second she arrived, Alex shrieked and took a step backwards.

Her sight was not that strong. She could see faeries that wanted to make contact with humans, like the gancanagh she’d met yesterday, but was not good at discovering any fae who attempted to remain hidden. However, she was pretty good at hearing.

The marsh was so dark that even if something inhuman had been out there, Alex would not have seen it. But she could hear something, a rustling sound, like a large insect scuttling. Groaning voices echoed resentment.

She didn’t know what it was, but there was something in this marsh like the rumors said. Something absolutely, unbearably terrifying. Whatever it was held the souls of the dead prisoner…

Alex resisted a sudden urge to turn on her heel and flee. A cold sweat poured down her face. She couldn’t run away now. Her resolve renewed, she tightened her grip on her wand. She sensed a presence behind her and spun around. Before she could discern what it was, heat blazed across her left shoulder.

She removed her right hand from her wand and touched her shoulder. Her fingers came away bloody. She stared at her hand in wordless horror, as the mysterious assailant came at her again. She caught the dull gleam of a blade as it sped by.

Her mind went blank. She couldn’t get a good look at who it was, but it seemed human, probably male. Dodging the wild swings of the knife, Alex thrust out her wand and shoved him back.

“…………”

She tried to concentrate and chant a spell, but there was an awful cracking sound. She shut her mouth. She’d never felt anything like this before; something was terribly wrong. A moment later the wand in her hands, the wand Alex had used so long it felt like part of her own body…shattered.

If it had just broken, that would have been one thing. This was nothing so natural. The wand literally turned to dust. No remaining splintered piece was bigger than a five pence coin. The shards fell and scattered on the damp ground.

Stunned into silence, Alex stared down at the wooden debris in her hand, the pieces littered around her feet. A knife’s slash across her belly jolted her into action.

This slice was much deeper and broader than the cut on her shoulder. Blood poured from the wound. She tried to stop the bleeding with her hand, but it was too much. Her assailant still pursued her. He backed up several steps, and as Alex fell to her knees he charged wildly towards her, swinging the knife.

Alex looked up at the man, heard his inhuman shriek, and quickly shoved her hand in her bag. Her fingers touched the hilt of the single most expensive item she’d brought, a silver ceremonial knife. She pulled the leather scabbard off with her teeth and thrust the blade towards the man.

She missed his brow, but the knife sank deep near his collarbone. Howling like a wild thing, the man doubled over and grabbed the knife’s hilt. He tried to pull it out but couldn’t. Screaming in agony, he hobbled off into the depths of the forest.

Horrific pain soon replaced the flood of relief. Her stomach wound would not stop bleeding. Fighting the pain, Alex used the bag in an attempt to staunch the blood. As if sensing Alex’s weakness, the swamp’s unpleasant air grew thicker, like it was trying to swallow her.

Alex scrambled away from the swamp, clutching her throbbing wound. She would have to treat it somewhere safer.

She couldn’t die here. Not yet.

But as she passed through the row of scraggly trees, Alex lost consciousness.

“I heard you accidentally hit on a mage!”

The gancanagh was aimlessly wandering the field and enjoying the warm sunlight when someone called out to him. He spied a leannán sídhe—a faerie that lived off human men—perched near the riverbank.

“You’re so dumb!” she added.

This made the third time this morning someone had laughed at him for his error. So few humans visited this area that the local fae must have been simply starved for gossip.

Still, just how far had the story spread in a single day?

The other faeries’ mockery annoyed him, but in truth he was far more pissed at himself. How in the hell had he not noticed the girl was a mage before speaking to her?

“Maybe your instincts are dull because it’s just been so long since you met a human?” the faerie asked.

“Maybe,” he said, controlling his irritation.

The leannán sídhe let it drop, nodding. “You really don’t see any human women walking around here these days. Isn’t there some crazy murderer on the loose? I could never love a man like that. No artistic sense at all!”

Her love was always fatal. This faerie granted artistic talent in exchange for the artist’s life.

She sighed. “Someone claimed they saw a weird human in the forest.”

“Really?” he said.

“The forest. The one even we don’t like going near. But apparently a human man was wandering around like he lived there. Maybe he’s the killer. Why would anyone ever want to live in such a place? There’s something wrong with that one. Just having humans like that around is such a bother. Are you listening?”

He’d stopped listening to the leannán sídhe’s endless griping halfway through her speech. The gancanagh stared at the forest, listening intently.

“Did you hear that?” he asked.

“What? The birds?”

“No, a human.”

“Of course I didn’t. There’s no one here but you and me.”

The leannán sídhe was right, but he was sure he’d heard something. The thought hastened his steps.

“Hey! Come back!”

Ignoring the leannán sídhe, he ran towards the forest as fast as he could. Normally, the gancanagh would never venture near the place. As he approached, the clear sunny day became inexplicably gloomy. Entering the forest, an unpleasant chill assailed him even though it wasn’t cold. Like being surrounded by despicable iron, the chill went all the way to his core.

He had no reason to continue. Enduring this discomfort was hardly worth it, yet the gancanagh raced through the dark forest as if being chased. He gritted his teeth against the sickening discomfort. He didn’t know where he was going but was certain he needed to get there.

As he reached the marsh at the heart of the forest, the place he least wanted to go, the gancanagh spied what had called to him.

“The mage!” he cried.

The young mage girl he’d met the day before lay on the ground, bleeding from a belly wound. Unpleasant things gathered around her.

He quickly picked up the blood-drenched girl, brushed aside the clustering things, and ran for a safe place.

She’d first met a mage in the autumn when she was five. She was playing with her sister in the garden when she felt someone staring at her. Looking up, she discovered a strange woman standing on the other side of the hedge, watching the sisters play.

“My, you both have the gift. Even though she had none!” the woman said.

Bright red lips and lots of makeup, flashy clothes—it was hard to tell her age. The two girls had never met her, but she behaved as if they had, saying she would teach them magic. And she did. From that day forth, she’d show up in the garden sometimes and teach the girls the basics of magic. They grew to love these secret lessons and eagerly awaited the woman’s visits.

They only discovered the woman’s true identity on the day their mother came out to call them for dinner.

The second she saw the woman with her daughters, her smile faded. She turned quite pale and yelled, “What are you doing here, Doris? Stay away from my children!”

Livid, she ran over and hid the girls behind her, staring down the flashy woman. Faced with the mother’s anger and protectiveness, the woman just shrugged.

“Sophie. They’ve got the gift, unlike you. It’s such a waste!”

Their mother glanced back at the girls with a look of surprise but soon faced the woman again. “That’s enough, Mother! You won’t make a mess of our lives anymore! We want to live normally! We just want to be happy. Don’t you ever show yourself here again!”

With that, she dragged the girls into the house and slammed the door.

Their mother had always harbored a strange hatred for magic and wizards. She wouldn’t even allow her daughters to read picture books with witches in them. Alex and her sister only understood the reason for her anger when Doris started teaching them.

Doris was something of a free spirit. Even when Sophie had been young, Doris would leave on a whim, then return home just as suddenly before turning the house upside down. Sophie had more or less grown up an only child, just her and her father. When Sophie got married and had Alex, Doris was no less selfish. Occasionally, she’d show up at her daughter’s door, doing whatever she pleased. Eventually Sophie’s husband had had enough of this self-proclaimed mage who never appeared to age and who never listened to him. Just before their second daughter was born, he blew up.

Doris’s visit had led to a furious argument and divorce. Several years passed, and Sophie had remarried. She’d thought her mother would never come around again. But not only had Doris come around, she’d filled Sophie’s girls’ brains with all sorts of nonsense. Sophie couldn’t believe it.

The girls were told in no uncertain terms they were never to speak to that woman again, never listen to a word she said. Their mother was so scary that they both promised, but it was too late. Alex and Ashley had become enraptured by the strange world they’d never heard of or touched before.

After that, Doris continued to visit them in secret, teaching them the basics of magic. When her grandchildren started to read, she gave them books of magic and herb cultivation that would have proven difficult enough for a grown-up to understand. The girls battled gamely through the books, remembering and putting their contents into action. Alex did well in school, studying a great deal just to be able to read the magic books. In an unkempt corner of the garden, she planted some seedlings, just as Doris had taught her.

Sophie had realized long ago that her daughters were still learning that ridiculous magic from Doris. She had burned several magic books, ripped up the girls’ seedlings from the garden. Even then, though, her daughters refused to give up. Eventually, Sophie gave up herself. Somewhere along the line, the girls’ mother, father, and stepfather all began acting as if they didn’t exist. That was fine with them. They wanted new knowledge more than anything and to hone their skills.

Yet the decades had done nothing to cure Doris’ self-centered streak. When Alex was ten and Ashley nine, her visits suddenly stopped. Until then, she’d shown up at least twice a year, more often once a month. But two years passed without any sign of Doris.

Alex and Ashley tore through every manual they owned until the spines split and kept tending their herbs. Doris still did not come, and they hungered for more.

Three years after Doris had stopped coming, on a late autumn afternoon, the sisters were tending to their herbs when they sensed a visitor outside the garden. They looked up, expectantly. But instead of Doris they found a woman in black, one who could not have been less like their grandmother.

She was dressed like widows of yesteryear, in clothes of mourning. Where Doris was a woman of many expressions, this woman stared down at the girls frostily. Not even her eyebrow twitched.

“Doris never could finish anything,” she muttered angrily.

They knew this mourning widow was another mage. But her cold, chilly manners, so unlike Doris’s, scared them. The sisters drew close, protecting each other.

“A-are you Doris’ friend?” Alex asked, timidly.

The widow scowled. “Hardly a ‘friend.’ We shared a master. Doris was a thorn in my side even then.”

She fumed silently for a minute.

“That said, your talent appears to be real. If you want, I’ll make you my students. But if I do, you can never return to your families or to ordinary human lives.”

This threat had no effect on the sisters. The promise of gaining new knowledge was all it took to get them on board. Their eagerness earned them a frown, the first shift in the widow’s expression.

“No. Two is a pain. Just one.”

She eyed the sisters, evaluating them. At last she reached out a long, bony finger.

“I’ll take you. If you desire it, come with me.”

As if beckoned by the voice, Ashley stepped forward. Without ever glancing behind her, she walked to the widow’s side.

When she saw this, Alex tried to speak, tried to stop her sister. But it was as if she were bound to the spot. She couldn’t move, couldn’t make a sound.

“If you raise a fuss, your mother will notice. Can’t have that. You stay still till we’re gone.”

Alex stood rooted to the ground as her best friend, her partner, her only companion, her little sister was taken away. She could only watch through her tears.

Some time after they left, Alex informed her mother that her sister was gone. Her mother just nodded, as if it didn’t matter. “Why didn’t you go, too?” she said.

Alex would have gone if she could have. She wanted to learn. But Alex hadn’t been chosen.

Shame and self-pity, anger at her sister for leaving her behind, envy, hatred…the emotions inside her exploded. She tore up their little herb garden from the roots, stomped on the plants, destroyed everything.

Why had Ashley been chosen? Why not Alex? Was it because her sister had beautiful red hair? Because she was cuter? Because she was smarter? Because she was better at tending the herbs?

Her sister had been nicer than anyone. How could she have just abandoned Alex without even a backward glance? Had Alex never been anything but a burden to her?

With Ashley gone, Alex was completely alone. Her family continued to act as if she wasn’t there. It was the same at school. Alex knew nothing about what other girls liked.

She endured a winter without Ashley. When the bluebells began to bloom, Alex left the house armed only with a tattered textbook and the few remaining herb seeds. She began a journey that lacked destination or purpose.

When Alex woke, she found something soft resting on her. Overhead she saw the same gloomy trees. She could hear a fire burning nearby.

“You’re awake?”

She recognized the voice. She tried to sit up, but a sharp pain ran across her belly. Right. She remembered being attacked by an unknown man.

“Don’t try and move. You’ve lost a lot of blood,” the voice said.

A face leaned over her, one that surprised her.

“Gancanagh? You saved me?” Alex murmured.

“By pure coincidence. I just happened to be passing by, and found you covered in blood on the ground.”

For some reason, the gancanagh appeared to be sulking.

Why would anyone just be “passing by” where she was? Well, he was a faerie. Perhaps he had reasons beyond human understanding.

“I found your bag and stopped the bleeding as best I could,” he said.

Carefully, she looked down. Her wound had been bound with some of her few spare clothes. Now she had one less outfit to wear but…well, she probably wouldn’t need it. Not anymore.

“Any other human would have died.”

“Haven’t you heard? Mages don’t die, even if you kill them,” she said.

Grinning, she remembered she had some medicinal herbs in her rucksack. She looked around for it and saw her sack sitting some distance away.

“Can you get something from that for me? A fist-sized bag with a red ribbon.”

The gancanagh started to get up, then frowned.

“I’m not your familiar. Why should I do what you say?”

Fair enough. For some reason, she’d felt it was only natural to ask him.

She apologized and scooted over to the bag, careful not to reopen her wound. Alex found the herbs she needed. The gancanagh watched her restlessly, like he was guarding her.

What a strange faerie. Why had he bothered saving a mage like her?

“Your body’s a real mess, you know that?” he said, angrily.

So he’d seen her body when he was treating the wound. She didn’t feel embarrassed. It was hardly a pleasant sight, so she felt a little sorry for him.

“Never had a master. Learned to control my magic through trial and error. Mostly the latter.”

The burn on her face, the hair that had lost color, the crystalized parts of her skin…all past failures. She could hide the changes on her arms and body beneath clothes, but there was nothing she could do about her face and hair. Humans who saw Alex reacted one of two ways. They either hurriedly averted their eyes, like they’d seen something disgusting, or gave her looks with “poor girl” written all over them. She hated both expressions and avoided contact with people where she could.

“With skills like that, I can’t believe you thought you could take on this marsh,” the gancanagh said.

Alex shrugged. She didn’t disagree.

“And you’re already badly hurt. You can guess how the rest’ll go.”

“Well, these injuries have nothing to do with the marsh. Some weird man came at me with a knife,” she replied.

Then again, why had that man been there? Humans weren’t supposed to go anywhere near the place. He’d looked like he’d been living in these woods a while.

Surprisingly, the gancanagh had an explanation for this. “A knife-wielding man’s been going after human women around here for a while now. Sounds like he’s been living in this forest. You had the misfortune to run into him.”

Alex remembered hearing people talk about it in a nearby village. This man had claimed several victims, but the police had no idea where the killer lived. If the killer was hiding out in this forest, that explained why. But it didn’t explain why the man would be crazy enough to hide out in a place like this.

How could he survive in here, with this stifling, oppressive air swirling all around? Or was he another one “drawn to death?” Drawn by the marsh’s magic, perhaps driven mad by it? When he’d attacked Alex, his screams hadn’t sounded human.

“If you’re headed back to town, I can take you most of the way,” the gancanagh said.

Alex blinked at this unexpected offer. She found herself staring into his eyes, which gleamed with a strange light, like wet obsidian. She was loath to tear herself away from those eyes.

“Is this one of your seduction techniques?” she asked.

“No. Yesterday was a mistake. I’m not dumb enough to target a mage. You won’t be fooled by me, anyway.”

Then why had he saved her?

“I heard gancanagh were lazy. Didn’t think you’d be this attentive.”

“Gimme a break!” he said.

“Either way, I don’t need to go back to town. But thanks for the offer. I appreciate it.”

The gancanagh stared back at her, surprised.

“You aren’t… Then you’re still going into that marsh?”

“Yeah.”

“You fool! Going there means death at the best of times! In your state, you’ll never make it!”

“Maybe not. But if my life is enough to save a single soul, I’m gonna try. What time is it?”

Her life? Had she always planned to die here? Hearing this made the gancanagh furious. After all the trouble he’d gone through to save her!

“How would I know?” he shouted, the anger surprising even him.

The mage nodded and pulled a pocket watch from her tattered cloak. She popped the lid open. “What? It’s already morning?” she said, surprised. “I’m going to sleep a while. If I rest, my body should recover somewhat.”

A few minutes later, her deep breathing made it clear she was asleep. Mages might be made of stronger stuff than your average human, but she wouldn’t recover from that injury with only a few hours rest. Still, it sounded like she was going to head straight for the marsh as soon as she woke. Never to return.

That wasn’t any of the gancanagh’s business. Far from it. He was a faerie that lured human women to their deaths. What did he care about some mage he couldn’t target? He should just leave her in this nauseating forest.

That’s what he told himself, but as he watched the fragile girl asleep in these dark woods, he found he couldn’t move. In the end, he remained staring into the fire.

When Alex woke again, she was surprised to find the faerie still sitting nearby. She’d felt certain he’d have gone back to where he belonged by now. Hesitantly, she spoke to him.

“You feeling better?” he said, grumpily.

“Much.”

Was he genuinely worried about her, or was he up to something? After all, it was his nature to lure human women to their deaths. Alex didn’t understand other humans well, much less faeries, so she had no idea how to read his true intentions.

The wound on her belly had closed while she slept…well, not really. Some mages had healing gifts, but they were rare. Alex had no such power, and she had never wanted it more. But at least her wound wasn’t bleeding now, and if she bound it tight she should be able to move. Getting plenty of sleep had restored her energy.

She made a simple soup from her remaining canned food. Hunger satiated, she checked her belongings. She looked for her wand first, until she remembered it had shattered. She was immediately dejected. To a mage, a wand was like a key. Losing it was beyond unlucky.

She had never imagined it would shatter like that. Had it been poorly made? Had she misused it? She knew mages crafted their own wands, but usually one’s master or some other leader would finish it for you. Since Alex had access to neither, she had made her own, finished it herself, and used it ever since. She’d had no idea if she was using it properly or not.

She sighed and checked the rest of her things. Everything in the gunny bag was intact. The herbs that warded off evil and the magical gems were all there, but the loss of that silver knife hurt. Crystal and lapis lazuli lay embedded in its hilt, and the blade had been forged in moonlight with melted snow. She’d hired a magus craft artificer to make it for quite a lot of money. She’d intended to use it to achieve her goal here. Losing it was nearly as disastrous as losing the wand, but she had no time to lament. She just had to do what she could.

After one last check, she closed the bag again. She glanced at her pocket watch and saw it was just past 5 PM. If she left now, she’d reach the marsh by the time the moon rose. Alex put out the fire and stood. She turned to leave and then wondered if she should thank the gancanagh. She had few things that a faerie would like, but… She turned back towards him and was surprised to find the gancanagh standing behind her as if ready to follow.

“I’m heading out,” she said.

“Hmph,” he said, grumpily. Nothing more.

But when Alex started walking, he came along.

Babying her wound, she took it one step at a time. Every step squelched in the wet ground. She couldn’t hear anything behind her, but whenever she turned to look, the gancanagh was there.

As the sun set, the darkness deepened. Sensing the unpleasant air congealing, Alex shuddered. She lit her incense lamp. The faint light guided her way between the dark trees; the air filled with the scent of herbs. She felt a little better.

“Whose soul are you trying to save in exchange for your own life?”

After all this time in silence, the gancanagh’s voice surprised Alex. She swung to face him. He was shrouded in darkness but stepped into the light as if drawn to it.

She didn’t think she’d told him she was trying to save someone’s soul. But then again, nobody risked their own life to save the soul of a complete stranger. Even the gancanagh could guess that much.

Alex hesitated but gave a rueful smile and hung her head. The light from the lamp wavered.

“My sister. I killed her,” she said.

He frowned. It didn’t seem like he took her at her word, but he didn’t disbelieve her, either. He seemed to be searching for the hidden truth.

“It’s a stupid story,” Alex said, turning the light to her path. She started to walk again. The unpleasant atmosphere and fear were no different than the day before, but for some reason, she felt calmer right now. Did having someone else here provide that much comfort?

“My sister had all the magical talent and a proper teacher.”

After leaving home, Alex had drifted from place to place, never staying anywhere long. She had no real goals and lacked the courage to ask the mages she met to take her as a student. She just kept repeating the things Doris had taught her and learned more things on her own as she traveled. Along the way, she discovered where her sister lived. The mage who had taken Ashley was called The Black Widow—her title reinforcing Alex’s impression of her. She was a fairly well-known mage.

But Alex never once went to see Ashley. She had no idea how to face her sister again. Perhaps Ashley had long since forgotten she even had a sister. Alex had not been chosen, and if she just showed up out of the blue, she would likely not be welcomed. From time to time, she’d stare at the house’s lights from a distance, never catching a glimpse of her sister. But she never worked up the courage to truly walk away. Her travels were always stationed within a certain distance of her sister.

During this time, Alex heard stories about an ancient forest with a cursed marsh inside and was foolish enough to head in, hoping to test her mettle.

The result had been disastrous.

She’d been frustrated, ashamed that she’d overestimated her own strength, curious if the result would have been different with a proper teacher.

She’d abandoned the stupid idea of conquering the swamp herself, but another idiotic notion had possessed her.

She had not been able to handle it…but what about Ashley? Her training might be going well, but perhaps Ashley couldn’t handle it, either.

Ashley would feel powerless, too. She would learn that even the chosen one could not win every battle.

This dark impulse ballooned up within her until Alex sent her sister a letter. Pretending to be the younger sister of a woman who’d thrown herself into the marsh and died, she begged Ashley to save her sister’s soul from the marsh’s prison.

At the time, she hadn’t known what the letter would prompt Ashley to do. Maybe she would just ignore it. If the mage teaching her found out about the letter, she’d know it was a lie immediately. But Alex just sent the fake letter and then ran away, heedless of the consequences.

But Alex was wrong. Her sister had believed the letter to be true, had gone to the marsh…and had never returned.

Finished with her story, Alex peered into the darkness beyond her lamp’s reach.

“My sister’s teacher wrote to me of Ashley’s death. She sent a bird to me on my travels to tell me that my sister had died.”

Ashley is dead. Her blood is on your hands.

The message had hit her hard. She had felt the cold fury radiating off the page.

The widow-like mage knew exactly what had happened. She knew Alex had sent a fake letter out of spite, and this had led to Ashley’s death. The widow blamed Alex for this. Ever since, once a year, as the date of Ashley’s death drew nearer, the mage would send her another note with the same message: How long are you going to leave your sister’s soul trapped there?

“I regret ever doing something so stupid and horrifying. But…” When she received the letter, Alex had cried her eyes out. She’d screamed aloud that she never meant for Ashley to die, as if making excuses to anyone who would listen. But that had been a lie. “When I learned my sister was dead, I was both sad and relieved. Relieved, because she hadn’t been able to pull it off, either. Awful, right?”

Deep down, part of Alex had hoped her sister would fail and die. She hoped it was a very small part of her that could wish for something so cruel. The realization that she could feel such a thing had hit her harder than anything else.

“It’s your fault she died, so you’ll trade your life for her soul? Man, you humans sure do the strangest things,” the gancanagh said, shaking his head. “Is this that retribution thing I’ve heard about? Makes no sense to me.”

“Your kind lure human women to their deaths. You think nothing of that, then?”

The gancanagh looked puzzled, as if he had no idea what she was talking about. The mage glanced back at him, annoyed.

“No guilt at all? Even though innocent blood is on your hands,” she said.

At last he understood what she was asking, but he just looked even more confused.

“When humans grow hungry, do they refrain from eating even when food’s right in front of them? Are meat and vegetables innocent? If breathing was a sin, would you stop?” he asked.

Young girls brimming with life, hope, and youth proved irresistible to his kind. Honeyed words, beautiful smiles—these traits were all designed to attract girls, to imprison them. That’s what gancanagh were. Soon the girls would fall in love, destroy themselves chasing what could never be, and then their lights would go out. That was a gancanagh’s role.

“That’s what we are. That is our nature,” he said.

The mage frowned for a moment but soon shook her head and faced forwards once more.

“Your nature? Well, it’s human nature to regret and try to make amends.”

She spoke as if she wasn’t concerned. The gancanagh suppressed an exasperated sigh.

“If you don’t have the power, at least bring a familiar,” he said.

Even someone of her dubious skill should be able to get one. For a moment, the mage stopped in her tracks and glanced back at him. He thought he saw her smile.

“Well, I’m not that good a mage. Nothing could survive being with me long. I killed my own sister over stupid jealousy. I have no right to ask anyone to die with me.”

A shock ran through the gancanagh, as if he’d been struck by lightning.

She passed judgment on herself. Just like when they’d first met, her tone reminded him of the winter winds. Lonely, sad, and hollow.

This girl suffered in isolation. She craved the warmth of others yet punished herself for her sister’s death. Terrified to die alone, she still saw death as the punishment she deserved even as she longed for someone to share her fate.

Humans were fools to punish themselves. He could not understand it. But the gancanagh could not find the words to argue. He felt like nothing would reach this girl.

Neither spoke. They continued through the forest, swallowed by darkness, until they reached the edge of the marsh. Thin clouds covered the sky, and they could just make out the light of the moon.

There was no wind, but the water’s surface gently rippled. The feeble light of the ancient incense lamp lit the area. The smell of rot assaulted their nostrils. The unpleasantness that had followed them through the forest grew much worse here. It felt like someone was pounding iron stakes into the ground at his feet. The gancanagh longed to turn and run but knew he couldn’t do that. Just as this marsh bound the souls of the dead, so did the gancanagh feel bound to this mage.

Foolish. I’m not her familiar!

He should run. If things got dangerous, he could always leave her here. He shook his head, trying to convince himself of that. But then there was a pop as a bubble surfaced on the marsh.

“Mage!”

Alex had approached the water’s edge. By the time the gancanagh called out, it was already too late. Two arms reached out of the water, grabbed her ankles, and dragged her beneath the surface with a loud splash. The gancanagh tried to snatch her but came up empty.

Before him, the marsh’s surface went still, as if nothing had ever happened.

The force dragging her was far stronger than she’d ever expected. Alex sank, helpless to fight against this thing. Through the murky water, she could not see her assailant’s face. But she could see a knife sticking out of him. She knew it was that man again and was astonished he could attack her like this with his injuries.

The man pulled Alex with raw strength. It was like he’d set roots down at the bottom of the water. Struggling for air, she swallowed a sickening amount of water. Her consciousness began to fade.

“If you won’t love me, then we must die together.”

As she retched, desperate for air, a man’s voice came to her.

“I don’t want to die, I don’t want to die, I don’t want to die!”

“Somebody, help me!”

This time she heard echoing women’s screams.

Oh, Alex realized. This was the voice of the man attacking her, and the screams of the souls of the women he’d murdered. Their fear of death, their anger at the one killing them, all of these emotions festered in the marsh’s depths.

Image after image floated into Alex’s mind, then vanished. A distressed woman shaking her head—the man, his love rejected, his dejection fading to rage. A woman’s face in the darkness, twisted with fear, her mouth open wide—the man’s knife stabbing into her, over and over. A woman who lay in a puddle of blood—the man, sobbing fearfully at his own actions before screaming and running away.

He reached the marsh that the locals dared not enter. Memories from that point on were hazy, scattered.

Memories…this man’s memories? I thought I didn’t have a knack for the sight.

As Alex wondered, a high-pitched girl’s voice sounded in her ear.

“Hey! Let’s go back!”

Suddenly, Alex found herself standing in the forest. Trees surrounded her. She was not yet at the marsh.

“This is impossible, Ashley,” a girl’s voice said.

Alex jumped at the familiar name and looked around. Nearby, a light swayed feebly. Alex walked towards the light, as if drawn to it. The voices grew louder and more distinct with every step she took. She recognized one of those voices.

“I know. This marsh is too much for me.”

“Then—”

“But I think I can save a single soul. It might be dangerous, but—”

“Why do this? You don’t know the person who wrote that letter!”

A tiny little girl, barely tall enough to reach Ashley’s waist, tried to stop her. She must have been Ashley’s familiar. She was trying to block her master’s path, but there was a glint in Ashley’s eye. She looked only forward.

“True, I don’t know her, but I understand her pain. She couldn’t save her sister. She couldn’t do anything. I know how much that hurts, because I abandoned my own sister,” Ashley said.

“You didn’t! You just happened to be the one chosen as a student!”

“No. I could have stayed behind with Alex, and I chose not to do that. Do you know why? Because I was hungry for knowledge. I wanted to know more, to know all kinds of things. The moment I saw a path forward, I forgot all about my sister. Can you believe it? Alex always protected me. She’d always stand in the line of fire when the bullies came after me. When we tried a dangerous experiment, she’d always take the first attempt. But when faced with the one thing we both wanted, I left her behind.”

Ashley’s voice shook. She sounded angry at herself, helpless to change things.

“But even if you save the soul of the woman’s sister, that won’t help your sister,” the little girl said.

“True. I’m just being selfish. But until I see Alex again, I at least want to do something. If I don’t do this, I don’t know that I’ll ever find the courage to see her. Because I know how the person who sent that letter feels, I can’t ignore it.”

“Then at least talk to your master. You left without even telling her!”

Ashley shook her head.

“No. She said she was no good at purifications, and she’d just tell me not to do anything. You know she always says mages should never get involved unless they have no choice. She might have even locked me away so I couldn’t come here. I had to go without her knowing.”

The familiar looked ready to burst into tears.

Ashley gave a faint smile. “Don’t worry. Even if something happens to me, I’ve arranged it so she’ll know.”

The familiar appeared to understand that Ashley wouldn’t change her mind. She gave up and followed in sullen silence.

When Alex had sent the fake letter, she’d hoped her sister would fail and feel powerless. But one other thought had crossed her mind.

She’d always known Ashley was too nice, so nice she even worried about her own bullies’ injuries. She could never have ignored a request from someone who’d lost their older sister. Alex had known this was true, but she’d wanted to be certain. She’d wanted to know for sure that her sister hadn’t changed, that she still cared about Alex. She’d sent that stupid letter to test Ashley’s feelings for her. And the result…

“Ashley!” Alex found herself running after them. “Don’t go!”

Part of her still knew this was just a memory and that she could not stop her sister. But she couldn’t just stand and watch it happen.

“Please, stop!”

Alex grabbed her sister’s arm. For a second, she touched Ashley. But in that same instant, the forest around them vanished, leaving only ice-cold water and the burning need to breathe. Just before she passed out completely, something grabbed Alex and yanked her up to the surface.

The gancanagh saw something float to the marsh’s surface and ran over. His hopes were dashed. The floater was a strange man with a silver knife buried deep in his chest. He was a dead, unmoving weight, his life already ended.

This man had attacked the mage, pulled her under the water. But even though her assailant was dead, the girl herself did not surface.

Can’t she swim? Or is something else going on?

The marsh water was so murky he couldn’t see a thing. The sinister aura that emanated from the water was even worse than the one around the marsh.

Normally, he would never ever consider coming this close, but now the gancanagh stuck his arm in the water. He tried to make something out, anything. As he did, he grew angry.

Why should I have to feel like this?

Why did he suffocate as he wondered if she was alive? He couldn’t bear the thought that she might already be dead.

He remembered all the girls he’d lured to their deaths. How they’d suffered. How his magic had made them love him, how he didn’t return their love. How it tore them apart, how it took their lives. For the first time, he understood how they felt.

“Th-this is absurd!”

This couldn’t be happening to him. Nothing this ludicrous could be real. A faerie could never hope to understand these emotions.

But the most ridiculous part of all was the way he couldn’t bring himself to run away, the way he shuffled around the edge of the marsh.

This realization of what he felt decided him. Without another thought, he plunged into the dark, murky water.

“Hey, are you okay?” the gancanagh shouted.

Alex coughed up water, her lungs burning for air. The gancanagh held her arm.

Her breathing had recovered enough to allow her to look at him. They were both soaking wet. He must have jumped into the marsh to pull her out. Alex was about to answer him when she realized she had something in her hand, held tight to her chest.

An ash wand.

The finish was white. There was a beautiful red stone at the tip, the same color as the owner’s hair.

It was Ashley’s wand, one that used wood from the tree after which she was named. The same wand Alex had seen her carrying in those memories. Even in this darkness, the white of the wand seemed to gleam.

Alex let out a voiceless scream and hugged the wand tight to her chest.

Why had she seen those memories so vividly, despite her weak sight? She was sure it was because this wand—Ashley’s soul—had shown them to her.

Ashley had regretted things, too, regretted abandoning her sister. She’d longed for a way to set things right.

As Alex sobbed, the gancanagh shook her shoulder.

“Hey! This is bad!” he said.

She looked up, only now noticing the sinister aura. The ghastly marsh air surrounded them. Voices echoed, shaking the ground. They were the voices of the women she’d heard in the marsh, the ones that man had killed…and there was also the scrabbling sound of some unknown thing.

“We gotta run!”

The gancanagh grabbed Alex’s arm and dragged her to her feet, but Alex hugged the wand again. Ashley had given her this wand, as if begging her to save these poor women. The women she had been unable to save herself.

At the edge of Alex’s vision, she saw the man’s fallen corpse. The knife protruded from his chest.

“I can’t run,” she said.

“Huh?”

“I have to save them.”

She ran towards the man’s body, suddenly conscious of the horrible pain in her belly. The wound had opened in the filthy water, but she didn’t have time for this now. She ignored it as she reached the man and pulled the knife from him. This was easier said than done, but, panting hard, she managed it.

She turned back to the marsh’s edge, wiping the blood off the knife before stabbing it into the ground. In that instant, the haze covering the swamp lifted a little. A beam of moonlight found the crystal and lapis lazuli embedded in the knife’s handle, like it was guiding her way.

Alex took a firm grip on the ash wand, and held it out before her.

“Silver, cast off thy yoke,” she said.

Magic energy coursed through her body. When it touched her wound, the pain hit her like a blow. Her body swayed, and the sinister aura welled up around her. She gritted her teeth and stood her ground. Someone beside her grabbed her wand hand in support. The pain ebbed away.

Alex glanced sideways, surprised. The gancanagh looked back wordlessly, as if granting her courage. She wasn’t sure why, but it seemed he intended to lend her his power. With this newfound strength, Alex tightened her grip on the wand once more.

“Show the path to disperse this evil,” she said.

The stones in the knife’s handle gleamed, and the foul aura around them drew back.

“Lead it where it belongs, oh silver light!”

With a shout, she released the magic. The moonlight pierced the haze and gleamed upon the knife. A burst of light enveloped them. Alex closed her eyes, but the light shone only for a moment. Soon the darkness and gloom returned to the marsh.

Alex slowly opened her eyes again. The haze covered the sky once more, and the moon’s outline was only faintly visible. She looked down at the marsh’s edge. The knife jammed in the ground appeared blackened, like it had been left there for years. The blade was falling apart. Only the crystals and lapis lazuli still glittered in the darkness.

The air around them felt a little bit cleaner than before. If she listened closely, Alex could still hear that unearthly scrabbling at the back of the marsh, but the women’s suffering voices were gone.

Had it really worked? Alex stared quietly down at the water, hardly believing it. She’d never imagined she would pull this off without dying.

Her eyes focused on the white ash wand in her hands. She realized that she had not accomplished this alone.

Ashley saved me.

Alex knew her sister’s soul was still bound to this dark, foul swamp. She had chosen to save the women who had died here instead of herself.

I don’t have enough power.

Alex felt that bitterly. She didn’t have the power or the resolve.

She’d thought she would be free from suffering if she could trade her life to save her sister. She’d be free from the accusatory letters her sister’s master had sent over the years, free from her own guilt.

I was just being selfish. Just being a coward.

“Let’s go,” the gancanagh said.

Self-hatred froze Alex. As the gancanagh spoke, he took her in his arms.

“Wh-what?!” she yelped.

The gancanagh looked grim as he pulled her away from the marsh. “I don’t want to spend another second in a place like this. I don’t care what you say. You can’t walk on your own, can you?”

True. She was utterly drained. Her shaking hands hung limp. Choosing to accept his generosity, Alex did not argue.

Still, how strange. Why would this faerie choose to save a selfish, amateur mage like her? Not just save her when she lay wounded, but follow her to the marsh, pull her out of the water, and help her to rescue these lost souls. She had done nothing to deserve his help.

Alex had never had a familiar, but she wondered if this was what having one was like. Someone to save you when you were in trouble, to support you when you struggled—someone to soothe the turbulent heart. That was much more than Alex deserved.

The sound of footsteps on damp ground sounded through the night. The gancanagh headed straight for the edge of the forest. Meanwhile, that suffocating, stifling air began to fade. The haze grew thinner. Alex heard insects again, and then she and the gancanagh were out of the trees. The full moon shone in the night sky. Its light had been so feeble behind the clouds that its sheer brightness astonished her.

“Gancanagh, that’s enough. Thank you,” she said.

Whether from rest or because they had left the forest, Alex felt her strength return. She bid the gancanagh put her down and savored the feel of the dry earth beneath her feet. Her belly still hurt, but if she gritted her teeth and supported herself with the white wand, she could bear it.

The gancanagh stared down at her. Alex wondered if she had any way to repay him. She’d lost her herbs to the marsh waters, so all she had were a few coins in her pockets. She was nearly penniless. After all, she’d never expected to live.

“Your sister’s soul is still trapped in there?” he asked.

“Yes. You were right. I couldn’t save her.”

“Then you aren’t finished yet. You’re going back, aren’t you?”

She had considered it.

“Yes, but not right now. I’m not strong enough yet. I doubt a little studying here and there will be enough. But maybe in a few years, or decades…maybe then I’ll be able to save her soul.”

She would work until she succeeded or died. This was her life’s purpose now.

The gancanagh nodded. His obsidian gaze pierced Alex.

“Take me with you.”

“What?”

Alex had no idea what he was saying. The gancanagh felt a kind of relief, as if he’d relinquished something. He’d found the only words with which he could reach her.

“I’ll die with you. So take me along,” he said.

“I have no right to ask anyone to die with me.”

Being alone was the punishment she’d inflicted on herself.

No matter how hard it was, or how lonely she got, no matter how scared she was of dying alone, Alex had sent her sister to die for a selfish purpose. She believed she did not deserve the comfort of companionship, the right to desire the warmth of another by her side. Not after sending her sister to the bottom of a cold swamp.

It wasn’t that she didn’t long for that warmth. It wasn’t that she didn’t want a companion.

But I don’t deserve that.

His companionship had provided great comfort when she’d been injured. When the fear and tension nearly overwhelmed her, his presence had been a huge support. The events of tonight had lessened the emptiness inside of her, but such relief could only be temporary.

“See?”

The gancanagh reached out. Her hand tightened on the wand, ready to reject him, but he ignored it.

“Let me tell you, once my kind make up their minds, no mere human can turn us away. No matter how much you may not want it, I’m coming with you. Got it?”

Destiny united us. We were meant to be together. These were empty phrases of seduction that meant nothing to the gancanagh, paper-thin promises he tore right through. He’d never dreamed a day would come when he would mean the words he said.

But now that he’d met her, his path was set. The hollow in those eyes, the palpable loneliness like the winter wind…he wanted to heal both.

Yet he expressed this with grumpy threats, and Alex couldn’t help but smile back. It was as if their roles had been reversed.

Ashley, I promise I’ll come back to save you. I’ll work for it until I’ve used my last drop of strength.

Alex took her right hand off the wand.

So…is it all right if I accept this offer?

For a moment, the wand against her chest caught the moonlight. Its white finish gleamed like a reply. It felt like her sister had granted her permission, but was that just wishful thinking?

Alex took his hand, and her quiet voice echoed in the moonlight.

“Let the cord once severed be bound

As the crescent moon grows full, as the empty cup is filled

Fir, let branch be bound to branch, a circle that shall never be broken

As long as the sap in the great tree does not dry”

Something inside her grew whole. Something she had previously lacked felt tangible. Alex closed her eyes, savoring the sensation.

“By the way,” he said, after a while. “As your familiar, I’ll receive a new name. But I warn you, if it’s dumb, I’ll reject it.”

The gancanagh was adamant about this point. Alex hesitated, unsure. She’d never been good at names. She thought for a long while, staring at the wand in her hand.

Then she made up her mind.

“Alex,” she said.

The gancanagh rolled the name around on his tongue.

“‘Defender?’ Not bad.”

She should have protected her sister, yet she’d sent her to die. She did not have the right to call herself a defender. She did not deserve that name. That name belonged to him, to the one who’d risked his own life and changed his nature to save a mage he’d just met.

“Well, first we need to get to town. Treat those wounds of yours, buy some new clothes. Can’t have a girl like you dressed in those rags,” he said.

Barely a familiar and already he grumbled at his master. He reached out to pick her up again, mindful of her injuries.

“Oh, right. You never told me your name,” he said.

She felt like they’d been together a long time, even though it had been only a few days. Yet she had not given her name. Surprising. The young mage made up her mind and told him her name.

“Ashley.”

***

How many times had she come to this marsh now?

Watching the newly freed souls return, she realized she no longer remembered the answer. New souls had become trapped here each time she came. Like brushing dust away, it was all she could manage to free the new souls. Her sister’s soul remained trapped. No signs indicated that the curse on this place had waned, but this marsh had always been that way. Its evil was not so easily dealt with.

Still, she had to keep trying. This was her punishment and her duty.

No matter what happened, for as long as she lived she would return to this place and face her sin. Since the day she had sworn that oath, she’d received no letters from her sister’s master. She didn’t know why the widow had sent her those letters in the first place. Perhaps she’d simply wanted someone to save her student in her stead. As her nickname implied, her sister’s master was not the purification type; she was more an expert on death.

Perhaps the widow had blamed herself for her student’s death. Perhaps she’d regretted not being able to save the girl. Perhaps that’s why she’d sent those letters to her student’s sister, demanding that she save her. But that was all a guess. There was no way of being sure. The widow had sold her home and vanished.

“Right, well, that’s this one done! Let’s go home.”

Her familiar still hated this place and never let her dally. As they walked, he quietly put an arm around her shoulders. She must have seemed unsteady on her feet.

“When we get back, you’re treating yourself well, okay? You really are an awful miser! Saving and saving, never spending a penny that isn’t related to your magic. Caring about good food and nice clothes doesn’t make you weaker, you know!”

This lecture again. Ashley laughed out loud. Her faerie companion never changed. He was always by her side, and always the same, if a bit of a nag.

“Thanks, Alex.”

He made a face. “Are you even listening?”

His scowl just struck her as funny. Her laughter drowned out his scolding.

“I mean it, Ashley!” Angrily, her familiar called her by that name.

Every time someone called her Ashley, every time she introduced herself, her guilt welled up again. Carved into her soul, it would never leave. But at the same time, no one could take that guilt from her. Her sister was still here with her, and would always be.

The name was proof of her sin, both her burden…and a blessing.

The End