No one came. I wasn’t going back but apparently they weren’t coming for me either. I didn’t know what to do with myself. I had nothing outside of home, outside of the village. I didn’t even know where to go, didn’t know where I was really, just another clearing outside of the only town I’d ever known, or ever remembered knowing. I decided to find the briar patch. It wasn’t far, I found it easily and crawled into the narrow path I’d made the last time. I hadn’t realized what a tight fit it was then. This stupid dress isn’t helping. I settled in and reached over to brush the loose dirt off the papers I had buried.
I laid the soiled documents on my lap and unbound the laces. I couldn't believe what I was reading was true, but there it was, the ancient parchment against the smudged white fabric of my skirt, letters on the page as real and words as patent as could be. Details of a trial, and not only a trial, a punishment assigned as a result. The punishment of Francine Katteryn Glaforia, found guilty of practicing dark magic.
Her sentence included some sort of service to her community and a spell binding her from using magic of any kind except practical. I was dumbfounded. I had never considered it before but as I thought about it, searching for proof the documents were wrong, I realized Aunt Fannie had never used magic for anything but service. It hadn’t seemed unusual to me, it was just the way it had always been and I could barely do anything besides light a candle. Was this why council was so quick to accuse me of practicing dark magic? It was rarely even discussed and never tolerated. What had Fannie done?
I kept flipping through the pages and then I realized something was out of place. It didn't make sense official documents about Fannie would be among those relating the apparent extinction of the northern clans. And why had all the documents I’d found about the tragedy been separated, mixed up, and missing pages? I tried to sort it out and found there were other council documents there too.
I kept reading, quickly scanning the pages for something of interest. My eyes caught it a second before my brain; I recognized a name… Chevelle Vattier. I backed up and read. Shock and disbelief turned to fury before I could even finish the page. Chevelle Vattier had been a volunteer watcher. He had volunteered to watch… me?
Anger flooded through me and the pages I held burst into flames. The brush around me caught and burned away as I stood and pushed out of the blazing patch of briars. They had set a watcher on me. Why? Because Fannie had practiced dark magic? Were they afraid she’d teach me? I’d show them dark magic… I’d learn and go back… how? How could I learn without a teacher?
Chevelle… the fire suddenly died as I thought of the concern he’d shown me in the clearing, the tender moment we’d shared. Watcher. The flames caught again, burning with a vengeance through the field. None of it had been real. He was a watcher, he’d volunteered to watch me, to keep me in line.
I’d teach myself, take the risk and learn the magic without guidance. What did I have to lose? The plan was formed now, I’d practice until I was strong enough to return to the village. Wasting no time, I spotted a small toad and concentrated on it, willing it to turn to a moth. It started to swell like a tiny green balloon and then burst, spewing entrails that reached the hem of my dress.
Ugh.
It took a while, but the anger eventually faded enough I realized I’d need a new plan. I regretted the flames had consumed the documents that had caused all this to begin with. I should have fully read them first.
I heard a noise across the clearing. My fire had burned out now but the ashes were plenty evidence I’d been here. I ducked under the cover of a large spruce and watched in the direction the noise had come from. Chevelle walked through the tree line. Grrr... He was alone.. He kept walking as he looked my direction; he was surveying the damage from the fire. I was sure he’d know it was me but he didn’t stop or even slow. I wondered why he didn’t, was he not looking for me?
I knew Chevelle was my watcher and now I was missing. So where would he be going? I remembered that before I torched his paperwork I had seen Junnie noted as his contact. Would he be going to her, to get her help in finding me? He was my watcher, I’d be his responsibility, and she was the only one who knew me besides Fannie. He was a good fifty yards farther as I considered. I started to follow him. How far should I go? What if he wasn’t going to Junnie? What else do you have to do, sit here and blow up frogs? Right. I slinked out from the branches of the spruce and crept low along the trees and brush as I followed him north.
Chapter Six
Trails