Her words matched what the book had told him, but he still couldn’t believe it. “You’ve changed, but you’re still the same person…”
“Do you know why they caution mortals not to partake of food or drink in the fae realm, William?” asked Aislinn. When he didn’t answer, she continued, “Because it grows inside you.” Stepping closer, she held up one finger then put it into her mouth, when she withdrew it a small cut was on the tip, bleeding. “A drop is all it takes.” She lifted the injured finger to his lips, letting it hover there an inch away. “The fae realm is immortal, as is everything within it. This is true of my flesh and blood as well. Your body is mortal, William, perishable. Any part of me or the realm I come from, if taken into you, would eventually replace your mortal husk.
“Even a drop of my blood would end your humanity, though it might take years. You would slowly begin to feel the call, drawing you to our realm, and you would heed it or perish here. In the fae realm it would grow, gradually replacing your mortal flesh, until all that remained of you would be a fae creature with your memories, and eventually even those would be lost to the mists of time,” she finished.
Will stared back at her. Though she had finished speaking, Aislinn still held her fingertip in front of him, almost touching his lips. He could smell a faintly floral scent coming from her skin, or perhaps it was her blood. Growing up, he had seen blood many times, so it didn’t bother him, but this time he felt a strange urge. He wanted it.
Aislinn’s eyes grew dark. “Take it and your suffering will be over.”
His mouth was watering and Will licked his lips involuntarily. Closing his eyes, he remembered his grandfather. What would the old man say if he was here now? Then he asked, “Did you offer this to him too?”
His grandmother flinched, then withdrew her finger. “Never.”
“Why not?”
She sighed. “In the early days, I still loved him, and his hatred of my husband was always too great.”
“Why did you marry Elth—?” Will stopped, for Aislinn had placed her uninjured hand over his mouth.
“Don’t say his name or even my skills will not suffice to hide this meeting place from him,” warned his grandmother. He nodded and she withdrew her hand. “I did it to save his life.” Then she glanced at Tailtiu. “Though if I had known of the unborn life in my womb, I might have chosen differently.”
According to the myths Will had grown up hearing, Aislinn was the goddess of magic. While it was obvious that those stories weren’t strictly true, it made him wonder. He had seen his grandfather face down Elthas in the fae-lord’s own realm. If she had been Arrogan’s teacher, could she be any less powerful? “Do you fear him?” asked Will.
Aislinn laughed. “Not his power. The fae are bound by rules. I fear my oath. To save your grandfather’s life, I pledged my service to the Lord of the Hunt. I cannot disobey him.
“I was naïve in thinking all he would take was my life. After I accepted his bargain, he took me as his wife. Knowing the dangers of the fae realm, I refused to eat, but it was not food or blood that he used to change me. For years he tortured me with pleasures too great for human flesh to endure. It was a relief when my heart finally disappeared and even my memories could no longer bring me pain.”
As Will listened, the implications of her story began to sink in, rendering him speechless. No wonder the old man hated Elthas so much. Arrogan’s wife had given everything to save her husband, and he had probably blamed himself for what happened to her. And now he’s dead.
Aislinn watched his face carefully, as though she might read his thoughts. “Don’t pity me. I am beyond sorrow now. Let my tale be a warning to you, William Cartwright, as you deal with the fae—as you deal with me. Make a mistake and I could do the same to you.”
“No,” said Will, meeting her eyes evenly. “You’ve already helped me. My mistake with the bargain earlier, Tailtiu’s kiss, both of those things were done on purpose. You’re not the same as Elt—as him.”
“Such thoughts will lead to your doom,” said Aislinn. “Now, I have answered some of your questions, spoken and unspoken. Answer mine. Did you see how he died?”
Casting his eyes downward, Will nodded. “He saved me, as well as my mother and my cousin. Soldiers came to my house, along with a sorcerer.” He went on to explain everything he had seen, but he stopped short when it came to his grandfather’s final moment, telling her only that the old man had removed the spell-cage within him.
“Did he give you something else?” asked his grandmother, her eyes boring into him.
Unsure what to say, Will looked away. He still didn’t know what the spell was that his grandfather had given him, but it felt like a secret he shouldn’t share.
“He did,” declared Aislinn. “You passed the trials. He wouldn’t have died without giving it to you.”
“I’m not sure what you mean,” said Will, stumbling over his words. “He was only beginning to teach me. I’ve only just learned the runes. I can’t even cast a spell yet.”
“Careful, William. Honest answers, remember? Break our bargain and no hidden sentiment will prevent me from extracting a penalty from you—a penalty you do not want to pay,” she warned him. “I know the way he taught you, because I was the one who taught him. If he taught you the runes then you had already passed the trials. Show me the seal.”
“I don’t even know what it is,” admitted Will, “or how to show it to you.”
Grabbing his right hand, she pulled it toward her in a grip that seemed made of iron. “I cannot take it from you unwillingly,” said his grandmother. “I can only examine it. Think of it and it will appear.”
As soon as she suggested it, the spell-construct rose from his palm.
“He never changed it,” said Aislinn, her voice dropping to a whisper. If Will hadn’t known better, he might have thought he heard a hint of sadness in her words.
“What is it?” asked Will.
“Something you don’t need,” she answered, her tone grave. “A worthless relic from our time, long forgotten in this age of degenerate mages and indolent sorcerers. It is called a limnthal, the mark of a true wizard.”
“Why did you say it hasn’t changed?”
Aislinn smiled sadly. “Each one is unique, given by a master to his or her student when they feel the time is appropriate. Usually that comes after an apprenticeship has been completed, but Arrogan couldn’t afford to wait. This is the mark I gave your grandfather when he satisfied my requirements. Ordinarily he should have created a new one for you, but since he was dying, he gave you his own, the one I made for him.”
Will’s eyes began to water, but he was shocked from his sorrow by her next statement.
“Give it to me,” ordered the elder fae.
Without thinking, he answered, “No.”
“It will do you no good,” said his grandmother. “It grants no power or ability. It is little more than a symbol of achievement, something no one will even recognize, and if anyone did, it would bring you only misfortune.”
“Then why do you want it?”
“Because it is mine. It means nothing to you. Give it to me and I will grant any wish you can imagine,” she told him, her eyes shifting colors from blue to lavender as she spoke.