Beth Wonders's Arc

Chapter 5 of 29

Beth walked out from under the pines with fifteen silver coins to her name. The shard was hidden. The merchant was hunting. She needed coins to buy the next star piece before he cornered her, and no vendor in any village would sell to a witch. Elijah kept a pace behind her, quiet, the hilt of something dark under his coat. "I need silver by nightfall," Beth said. "Not a loan. Not a favor." "Sell what you have." "I don't have anything." "You have a nose for thin magic." She stopped walking. He was right, and she hated that he was right. Her ability had always been the odd thing people flinched at. It had never been a job. A brown cat with too many toes slipped out of the ferns and pressed against her boot. Beth crouched. "You again." The cat trotted ahead, tail up, and looked back until she followed. The cat led them to a clearing where a dead tree stood alone. Runes ran up its trunk in faded purple and blue. Hollows opened in its bark like small mouths. Beth felt the air pull thin around it, then thick, then thin again, as if the tree breathed magic in and out. At its roots sat a crumbling well. Coins glinted on the rim. Old ones, new ones, some green with age. A rope held a bucket that had not been lowered in years. "People wish here," Beth said. "And they leave silver for luck." She could feel the thin spot under the well. Whatever ate the magic sat down there in the dark. Elijah looked at the coins. "Take them." "It's stealing." "From who." She didn't have an answer. She reached for the rim. The cat hissed. The tree groaned. A hollow in its trunk opened wider and a cold wind came out that smelled like wet copper. Beth pulled her hand back. "There's a price." "There's always a price," Elijah said. She thought fast. The well ate wishes and gave back luck. The tree ate magic and gave back travel. She had magic she could spare in small amounts. Star magic clung to her skin from carrying the shard. She pressed her palm to the bark. "One brush of what's on me. For the coins on the rim. That's the deal." The runes flared. Warmth left her hand in a thin thread. The hollow closed. The wind stopped. Beth swept the coins off the rim into her pocket. Forty-two silver. Enough for a small piece, not a whole one. Enough to keep moving. Her wings twitched. The tree had taken more than she meant to give. She could feel a shallow place inside her now, where star magic used to sit close. "Let's go," she said. "Before it asks for another taste." The cat was already walking. Elijah followed. Beth counted the coins twice as they left the clearing.