“No, don’t feel bad for me. With you in such a position.” I didn’t know what she meant but she continued, “And my dear brother has been there for me all along, helping me with the elf parts.”
She kept talking as she leaned forward, seemingly unaware I'd not spoken a word in response. Not that she’d given me the opportunity. I contemplated whether this was her usual behavior toward strangers or if she felt we had a special “motherless” bond. She ran her finger through the substance in the canister and it came out coated in a deep, dark green that had the consistency of grease, which she smeared across the base of my eyelid. She continued rambling as she coated various parts of my body with lotions and powders, smoothed my hair with a sweet scented cream, painted my lips with a soft balm that smelled of spice.
After she ran out of areas to work with, she opened a tall glass container with black liquid inside and dipped a cut braid of hair into the bottle. She drew it out and used the tip to brush an intricate design on the inside of my wrist. When she was finished, she leaned over and blew gently on the paint. Or ink? I was anxious to see the finished work, I waited impatiently for her to raise her head again and hoped whatever it was wasn’t permanent.
She finally glanced up at me, smiling an easy smile. I nervously looked down at my wrist. It was magnificent. A simple outline of a bird with outstretched wings marked the delicate skin at the inside of my wrist, just above the base of my palm. Unbelievably tiny runes surrounded the bottom of its wings, making a pattern appear at first glance.
I smiled as I praised her. “It’s beautiful.”
One eyebrow shot up and she jumped from the bed, grabbing my wrist and pulling me with her. I hoped she hadn’t smudged the design, I checked it as soon as she stopped in the center of the room and let my arm go. “And this.” It wasn’t a question, she was proud of her work and had brought me to stand in front of her mirror.
The eyes that stared back at me in the reflection grew large as they took in her mastery. Gone was the girl I'd been in the village. This woman was striking, her dark eyes might have even been fierce if they weren't round with astonishment. Ruby was thrilled at my response, she bounced twice and clapped her hands at her success.
And then she was over it. “Let’s eat, I’m famished.” She fired a look back at me, her hair flipping in the process. “Hmm… I’m not supposed to take you outside… Not supposed to leave you…”
I stood, waiting.
“Food,” she decided. She yanked two cloaks from the corner and tied them on, covering our heads, and then led me to the wardrobe by her bed. I couldn’t imagine how we could get any more clothes on as she opened the door and threw a few things out and onto her bed. Then she leaned out of the wardrobe door, whispered, “Come on,” and stepped into the cabinet, dragging me with her. We were standing outside the rear of her house. She slid the false wall back in place and grabbed my arm again, running from the village.
We didn’t go far before she stopped and jerked me into a squat beside her. I noticed movement a short distance ahead. It was a thin rabbit. As I watched, a small stick shot from the ground and torpedoed the animal through the chest, killing it instantly. I gasped. Ruby giggled at me. She grabbed her quarry and we rushed back to the house.
We went to the main room and she started a fire as she easily skinned and gutted the animal. The entrails went in an urn beside the fire. I wondered what she’d be using them for and then remembered all of her containers from the bedroom shelf, shuddering minutely at the thought. She stretched the pelt to dry while the meat cooked. She poured us wine and handed me half of her plunder. “It’s not much but game close to the village is sparse. Over-hunted. When we get to the peak, we can trade. It is the strangest thing; they herd the animals to town and then corral them to eat at their leisure.” She shook her head at the absurdity. “But you haven’t eaten until you’ve tasted a fattened beast.”
“The peak?”
Concerned, she asked, “You don’t know where we’re going?”
Oh. I didn’t know what to say, I would have been sure not to trust her, but she was traveling with us. I immediately decided against telling her I had no clue where I was or where I was going. I had to stay on this path, now more than ever. Chevelle’s words rolled through my mind. I wouldn’t give up because I’d seen the map.