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    Circe's Gifts
    Circe's Gifts
    Circe's Gifts
    Ebook368 pages5 hours

    Circe's Gifts

    By Lazette Gifford

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    About this ebook

    Circe's sacred forest is a place where wounded and hunted animals can find sanctuary. She and her long-time companions -- a one-eyed wolf, a cat with a limp, and a tailless mouse -- have lived quietly until a wounded young man wanders into her woods, followed by those who are hunting him. When the All-Mother lets Circe know that she must help Tiernan, the best she can do is to send her friends to protect him, though they cannot go in their animal forms.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherA Conspiracy of Authors
    Release dateMay 22, 2017
    ISBN9781936507740
    Circe's Gifts
    Author

    Lazette Gifford

    Lazette is an avid writer as well as the owner of Forward Motion for Writers and the owner/editor of Vision: A Resource for Writers.It's possible she spends too much time with writers.And cats.

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      Book preview

      Circe's Gifts - Lazette Gifford

      Few peasants from the village sitting at the forest's edge ever saw Circe, the Lady of the Woods. Those who did chance to spot her when she walked the edge of her forest described the woman as an aged, gray-haired crone, with piercing eyes, and always followed by a horde of fearsome beasts.

      They were wrong, of course, but they held to their myth even in the occasional face of reality. No one ever looked for anything more than what they expected to see. The Lady was ageless, not aged. Her hair wasn't gray, but moonlight silver, and her eyes -- the color of the green forest leaves -- did not pierce; they simply saw the world in a way that humans could not.

      As for the fearsome beasts -- well, her usual companions were a tailless mouse, a half-lame cat, and a one-eyed, soft-tempered she-wolf.

      Other creatures sometimes walked the woods with Circe; even the wildest bear and boar grew tame in her presence. They knew the Lady of the Woods protected them in these few acres of wilderness preserved in a world increasingly filled with human places. Wild, wounded creatures came to her in their times of need. She tended and healed them. Some, like her usual three companions, remained longer than others, but most went back to their wilder ways. Her little cottage would have grown quite crowded otherwise.

      The people of the nearby villages knew not to hunt in her sacred refuge. If a wounded animal reached her domain, no hunter -- human or otherwise -- followed after it. In fact, no people would enter the area, and they shunned not only the woods, but also the pretty glade, the clear water pond, and the small, neat cottage as though the spot sat just the other side of the border into the hells.

      Unsafe, the locals explained to any stranger. You can feel it the moment you step near that line that separates the open forest from her lands.

      The witch, whom some knew to call Circe, had lived in her wild place for so long that no one remembered her arrival and though the villagers and farmers didn't speak well of her, they hadn't anything evil to say either. In fact, the local fields suffered far fewer depredations from wild creatures than in many nearby villages. The people even made her gifts on certain days; pretties that they left along the border of her land. The villagers and Circe lived in common goodwill that they best maintained by ignoring each other as much as possible.

      Then, late one summer day, a young and wounded prince stumbled into Circe's sanctuary.

      Circe had sat on the crude stone bench beside the pond for several hours on that fateful day. She heard the baying of dogs and the shriek of the horns long before any human could have and hours before the hunted stepped into her realm. She sat and petted Dylan, urging the nervous cat to stay calm. Kalliope, the one-eyed wolf, lay at her feet, ears twitching as the noises came ever closer. No wounded human had ever run to her lands, but she sensed that the hunters had pushed this boy beyond reason.

      They wouldn't dare follow their prey into her --

      And then one did.

      Circe's cry of surprise startled Dylan. The large, gray stripped cat leapt from her lap, flaying through the air as though he thought he could fly, and then landed unceremoniously at the edge of the pond on the wet and muddy ground. He made a howl of protest and leapt straight over Kalliope as he darted toward the cottage and some safe, dry corner. Dylan's lame back right leg gave him little trouble as he rushed into the darkness of the building. Dylan often pretended he could barely walk at all in the hopes of getting more treats and pets. If Circe hadn't felt a moment of outraged surprise at the intrusion, she would have laughed.

      The magical ward that made humans feel this place too perilous for them to enter hadn't slowed the human prey whom, she could tell, would not run much farther.

      And then they would capture him -- on her land.

      No.

      Circe stood and turned, heading toward this injured human before Kalliope could even stand and follow. The wolf gave a soft sound of protest but didn't slow as they jogged into the shadows of the trees.

      Hurt, hunted, bleeding in her woods -- Circe's natural compulsion sent her rushing to help the young man. That was her nature -- both a gift and a curse: she must help any injured creature in need.

      An injured human shouldn't draw her attention, but Circe had been attracted to this one for hours before he stepped into her land. Humans were not, usually, wild. This one walked too close to madness and felt as though he could, indeed, turn into an unthinking animal with little prompting. He'd been hunted far and long, she realized. He was hurt and hungry, lost and alone.

      He'd been too frightened to sense her ward and charged through the wall and kept running. The others still followed after him, far too close and not in the least bit slowed. They felt persistent, angry, and half wild in their own ways. This was not a good combination.

      Circe's affinity with the wild afforded her some gifts that didn't rest entirely on magic. She could run wild through the woods and move as fleet and fast as any doe. The thorny underbrush and prickly thickets never touched her. Birds and rabbits marked her passage without fleeing in fear at the intrusion. By such an unremarked passage, she came suddenly to the stranger's side.

      She found him resting with his back against a tree, his eyes closed, and his hand pressed hard against a bleeding wound in his left shoulder. She wondered how he had managed to run this far and she hadn't expected such a man. His face, though bruised and etched with pain, looked young and lean. The rags he wore appeared to be tatters of silks and velvets. This one was nobility.

      The wars of the nobles never bothered her much. Humans, after all, came and went in that world outside her woods -- until now.

      She could walk away and leave him --

      For the bloody hunters with their baying dogs and sharp knives? Not in her woods

      Come with me boy, she said. Let us get away from here.

      The words surprised him, of course. Any creature of the woods would have marked her arrival, no matter how quietly she came upon them and they would have known her as a friend. This human boy made a startled cry as he opened his bright gray eyes. He tried to run, but caught his foot on a root and tumbled at the feet of Kalliope, winning a startled yelp from the poor wolf. The boy's cry of despair grew worse and loud enough to draw the attention of his pursuers.

      Come, boy, before they catch you! They'll find you!

      He must have heard hope in her words. He struggled back to his feet, grabbing at the nearest sapling to pull himself up. She reached to help him, but he shied away from her touch, bruised eyes still wide and frightened.

      The hunting dogs bayed, and Kalliope growled her displeasure at the sound. The boy leapt aside and nearly fell once more, but Circe caught his arm -- cold, sweating skin, trembling muscles. It's all right boy. Kalliope is mine, understand? She will not hurt you.

      The boy gave the wolf one quick glance and nodded. Yes, Lady. I understand. Thank you.

      What a rare, strange human! She seldom found habitually polite people at all, and would not have expected such formalities at a time like this. She could feel his terror that wasn't in the least abated by her presence. Still, he let her hold his arm and help him along through the woods.

      The boy moved as quickly as his failing body would allow. Circe considered a quick, easy spell to hurry him. However, the boy stood on the very edge of madness now. Something so unnatural and unprepared would drive him beyond her help. She came to aid the boy, not destroy him.

      Besides the hunters slowed as they pushed farther into her lands. Circe paused long enough to look their way, through the woods, through the distance, to where they moved. She found a couple of panicked locals amongst the fine-clothed strangers. They intended not to go any farther -- wise men.

      Not far now, boy, she whispered when she pulled him along again.

      He nodded, his thin face ashen. The hand at his shoulder couldn't hide the new rush of blood. They reached the edge of the glade, with her little cottage only a few more steps away. He looked up in surprise when they came out into the sunlight.

      Then he shook his head and pulled back for the first time.

      N-no, my Lady. Thank you, but I must keep going. They'll -- take me if I stop.

      They won't find you here.

      The dogs bayed, and he trembled. Looking at the state of his clothing, Circe suspected the dogs had been on him at least once already. She wondered how he escaped.

      The dogs, he whispered. They find me everywhere.

      Not this time, she said. Perhaps the certainty of her words won through his panic. He looked at her, startled again. This is my place. I will not allow it.

      He glanced around the glade and the cottage and pond -- she saw recognition come to his pale face, combined with a new wave of worry and uncertainty. He looked around, his gray eyes blinking, and then looked back at her. Circe supposed that he saw her for the first time.

      I have heard tales -- he began, breathless still. He bowed his head as best he could. Your pardon, Lady. I didn't mean to bring my troubles here. I shall --

      You will fall to the hunters if you do not stay with me. Circe met the boy's look and nodded. You came, hunted and wounded, into my demesne. I can help you if you trust me.

      The first, slight hint of hope brightened his eyes. He went willingly with her across the glade, his feet more cooperative with a goal firmly in sight. She wasn't certain where he found the strength or the sanity. She took the boy all the way to her thatch-roofed cottage and through the door before he collapsed to the floor. He lay on his side, gasping and unable to move.

      And what could she do with him? The small, single room had no place to hide a human. The hunters would find the place soon. No frightened local was going to hold them back for long.

      She had little time as she knelt down beside the boy who barely held to consciousness. She saw the hope gone from his eyes again

      Circe closed her eyes for a brief moment and looked into a very different place, one that was close by and yet beyond the reach of humans. She found the power where she had left it, warm and golden and ready. When she opened her eyes to this world -- which was no more real to her than the other -- Circe could see the soft golden glow now nestled in her hands. The magic filled the room with more than light. Bells whispered, and breezes caressed. Tame magic was sweet and kind.

      Kalliope appeared at the door, growling softly in warning.

      I know, love. They are coming. The dogs will follow him here. I must convince the humans their trained hunters are wrong.

      Kalliope whined and sat at the door sill, turning her head, so her good left eye had the widest field of vision, keeping the watch.

      Dylan, still somewhat mud-spattered, ventured out from behind the table and mewed softly, concern and curiosity mixing in the sound. Even little Petkin, her tailless mouse friend, wandered out of his hole.

      The hounds bayed and barked with a new fervor. They had the scent of very fresh blood. Even as tired as the animals must be -- they'd been running as long as the boy -- they didn't sound inclined to slow.

      Circe swept warm, healing magic over the boy's wounded shoulder without even looking at the cut. Sword, she knew from the tear in his once-fine tunic. The spell wouldn't completely heal the wound, and she hadn't time for that delicate work. This spell would help for a short while.

      The magic eased the flow of blood, numbed the shoulder, and spread warmth and strength through his trembling body. The boy's eyes opened in surprise. His hand went to the shoulder in an immediate test of pain, but she caught the fingers before he pressed.

      Not yet. I haven't finished the healing. I'll do more later. I need your wits now, boy. What's your name?

      Tiernan, Lady. There wasn't even a pause in the naming, though surely he knew giving her his name could be dangerous. Ah, but what was that danger to him now? They could both hear the sound of the hunters in the woods nearby, and she offered him his only help and hope. He had the wisdom to accept without question.

      Tiernan, I wish to cast strong magic upon you, she said. She lifted her hand where the magic still showed, all golden and nebulous, intertwined in her fingers like precious thread. His eyes looked at it with a whisper of wonder that almost overcame his fear and exhaustion. The dogs track you, and I haven't the time to lay some magical trail to lead them astray. Neither can I simply hide you in some corner and hope the soldiers don't look too closely. No ward can make you completely invisible.

      She had the boy's attention, at least, though hadn't time to calm him or make full explanations. The magic she'd cast would take time enough as it was.

      I can make you safe, she said. She caught tight hold of his right arm making certain she had his attention. As long as I can make the humans think their dogs are wrong.

      How? he whispered while his eyes flickered to the door at the sound of each howl.

      I will change you into something else, she said. Tiernan's eyes went wide. Yes, I have that power. I want to change you into a creature, so you will fit in with the rest of my friends if you agree.

      The boy gave a startled look at the cat and tried to back away. Are they -- were they --

      Oh Gods, no boy! I'm sorry. I could have worded that better, but I'm not used to dealing with people. No, they were never human. They are only my friends, the ones I could not heal enough to send back to their wild places, so they keep me company.

      Kalliope took two steps into the little room and rubbed against her leg. Dylan pressed his head into her hand, and Petkin bounded over their guest -- incredible bravery for him -- to sit on her foot.

      Thank you, my sweets. It's good to know that you do like being here with me.

      The dogs bellowed, too near the glade.

      The spell will not be permanent, even if I don't have a chance to reverse the casting. You'll be human again in the next sunrise, no matter what else happens. You have my word. She looked out the door. Shadows moved at the edge of the woods. It's them or me, lad.

      You. He whispered the word and closed his eyes. What do you need from me?

      Trust. Do not fight the change.

      He nodded and shivered. Circe couldn't tell if that came from his injury, the sound of the dogs, or the fear of what she would do to him. Likely all of it, mixed into what must be a true nightmare for the boy.

      However, she could feel his acceptance her intentions. Perhaps the acceptance came as a form of defeat, but it helped nonetheless. He closed his eyes, and she worked with uncommon haste. Circe lifted her magic, whispered the beginning of the spell -- and stopped when she realized she hadn't considered the actual form that the boy would take.

      The answer came almost as quickly as the question. The boy had taken flight from the enemy. She would give him another way to take flight. She cast with a fury of power and little subtlety. She could hear the men charging across the glade, dogs baying and men shouting.

      Falcon: The form flowed easily from her hands for the raptor was a woodland creature and well known to her. Brown and red and bright-eyed --

      He felt the change and made a little cry of fear or protest. It started human and ended avian. Circe drew her hands back and nodded. The young falcon sat on the stone floor where the boy had been. He looked around with startled glances and some little excitement.

      Good boy, she said. Here -- no, don't try to fly. You've still that wound. Besides, it is a knack that takes practice. Let me sit you on the table's edge. Our unwanted guests will be here too soon. Stay calm before them. They cannot know it's you.

      As she lifted the falcon to the table, the boy gave a quick, too-human nod.

      That was all the time they had. The enemy reached the door.

      Chapter Two

      Kalliope growled first, an unusually fierce sound from so good-natured a creature. The reaction wasn't surprising though, considering the creatures that stood at her door. They were the worst kind of humans, filled with anger and caught up in the bloodlust of the hunt. Four rode on nervous mounts, and a half dozen others held the leashes of huge gray dogs, barely keeping those beasts in check. The snarl of anger she turned on the humans would have been no less real even if the boy wasn't here: hunters were not allowed in her woods. Even those creatures who sheltered in her woods and lived by prey took it elsewhere.

      The animals understood. Humans rarely did.

      Get away, you fool. You have already crossed into my realm; do not dare my wrath.

      The tall, gray-cloaked man in front, who had the look of a leader, stepped back once and frowned, trying to understand the power in her words. The dogs started to bay so loudly he had to yell above their howls.

      We traced our quarry here --

      She started to answer and the decided against yelling. With a wave of her hand, she silenced the dogs to no more than rustling movement.

      That spooked the hunter, and his skin went pale behind his scraggly beard. The man had entered her domain believing the locals were superstitious fools. He wouldn't leave with the same narrow-minded and world-blind beliefs.

      We've followed a boy, the man said. His voice wasn't quite as steady as it had been a moment ago, and not nearly as loud. She almost had to strain to hear him above the quiet shuffling sounds. The dogs tracked him --

      You are fools to come hunting in my domain, she said. He paled even more beneath that dark beard, and his gray eyes shifted from shadow to shadow around him. He couldn't hide the fear that showed so clearly in his eyes. As for the others with him -- well, none tried to come as close as he did. In fact, the locals were already running away. Time to send the rest of this mangy pack fleeing as well. Your dogs lie to you, human. Do you see your prey here?

      No. He looked around, eyes narrowing. Although frightened of her, he still didn't give up. I would like to search.

      Search? The cottage has only one room, you fool, she replied with a wave behind her. Then she smiled. The change didn't make the man feel any safer, which proved some wisdom on his part. Search, if you like.

      He feared to lose the boy far more than he feared what she could do to him. That tenacity spoke of someone else with power over him. The man slid from his horse, handed the reins to another, and took a tentative step into the hut. He again when Kalliope made it plain that she didn't like him.

      I gave him leave to enter, Circe reminded the wolf. Let the human search, and then we will be done with these humans, one way or another.

      The man's head turned a little at her words, but he still came into the room, stomping about on the floor, listening for hollows beneath the stone. That, at least, showed a little intelligence. He even pushed at the bedding and blankets on the floor where she sometimes rested -- though never slept.

      He paused to look at the falcon, and she saw a momentarily avaricious look that was his alone. Royal courts coveted such creatures, and this one looked like an extraordinary and tame raptor. The guard doubtless saw a small fortune there, within his reach.

      Strange, how gold often blinded humans to obvious danger. Circe took a step closer before he even realized she caught him admiring the bird. Tiernan made a plaintive, hissing sound in protest when the guard took another step closer to him.

      He doesn't like you. The sound of her voice startled the guard back to reality again and reminded him that he didn't want to linger here. Have you found what you seek?

      The dogs wouldn't lie. They hunted the boy for days.

      Do you know what the dogs think? Shall I call them in here and ask them what brought them to come to me?

      He looked nervously out of the door, no doubt remembering how oddly silent they grew at her order. He glanced at the wolf again, and Kalliope bared her teeth. The man began to inch his way back to the cottage doorway and would have gone out, except another blocked the way. Apparently all the quiet lulled the dolt into thinking they were safe.

      Where's the boy, Captain? The man growled the words, forgoing any notice of Circe at all. Apparently, if he didn't notice her, she didn't exist.

      Not here, my Lord Rolin.

      Ah. Here was the person with the true power, which explained his bad manners. Human nobles often believed themselves more powerful than they truly were. Circe hadn't realized the local lord rode with the others, though she wasn't surprised to find him too cowardly to come in first.

      Lord Rolin scowled as he looked inside the building, but Circe could sense the fear in him like a cold, dark hole. He would have run with the locals had he not feared the censor of his guards even more than her powers. His temporal power rested in the strength he showed before others.

      However, he was a believer despite his bad manners. Good.

      Do you know the price I exact for hunting in my realm, Rolin?

      She didn't use the honorific. Anger brightened his face. The other human seemed quicker to comprehend her meaning. He began backing away before his liege lord realized the guard meant to abandon the man to his fate.

      This is not your land, bitch! Rolin seethed at the affront. Anger made him bold and stupid. He dared another step forward, almost into the room.

      Kalliope growled, Dylan hissed, and even Tiernan fluttered about for a moment. Circe silenced them with a wave of her hand and then turned back to the man in her doorway.

      Don't toy with me, fool. You know this is my land. You know who I am.

      Witch, Lord Rolin whispered.

      Better than bitch, I'm sure. She took a step toward brave Rolin, and he made a quick leap backward, nearly tripping over his own feet. Circe forced herself to remain stern and not laugh. They would run soon. She wanted them and their sick blood-lust out of her domain. Take your men and leave, Lord Rolin. That's all the chance you get.

      You can't threaten me, he said.

      His voice quavered somewhat though he put on a show of bravery for his men. They, however, wanted to run fast and far. It wouldn't take much to get their leader running with them.

      You do not rule in my lands, human, she told him. He backed up again, even though Circe came no closer. Go hunt elsewhere. Your man has not found the quarry here, has he? Why do you linger?

      Lord Rolin took two quick steps out and looked toward his mount. Good. She kept her eyes on him, ready to provide a little show of magic if needed.

      Unfortunately, Circe didn't watch the Captain behind her -- and she stood between him and the path to escape. The man must have thought he Rolin intended to abandon him to pay whatever price she exacted for entering her lands.

      A sudden howling ruckus warned her of something wrong. Circe spun in time to see the flash of a sword blade.

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