A Taste of Magic

Chapter 5: The Huntress in the Hollow (Part 3)

They had been walking for perhaps an hour when Lyra's body gave out.

Not dramatically---she didn't collapse or scream. She just... stopped. Her legs locked up, her bleeding soles refused to take another step, and she sank down onto a moss-covered rock at the side of the trail, her chest heaving, her whole body trembling with exhaustion. She didn't bother covering herself. She was too tired. Her hands hung limp at her sides.

Aelindra had walked a few more paces before she realized Lyra wasn't following. She turned, saw the girl slumped on the rock, and her expression shifted---not to irritation, as Lyra had expected, but to something closer to concern.

"Hey." She walked back, her bow tapping gently against her shoulder blade. "You all right?"

"My feet," Lyra managed. "I can't---they won't---"

"Let me see."

Aelindra crouched down in front of her. She glanced at Lyra's feet and winced. "Gods. Those are a mess. How long did you say you were running?"

"Most of the night. I don't know exactly."

"And barefoot the whole time." Aelindra shook her head. "You're lucky you didn't step on something worse. Hang on." She reached into a pouch at her belt and pulled out a small glass vial, no larger than her thumb. Inside, a liquid glowed faintly red, pulsing with a soft inner light. "Here. Drink this."

Lyra stared at the vial. The liquid shimmered, casting tiny red reflections on her bare thighs. "What... what is that?"

"Healing tonic. Not the strong stuff---those cost a fortune---but it'll close up the worst of the cuts and take the edge off the pain." She pressed it into Lyra's hand. "Go on. I promise it's not poison. Poison's more expensive."

Lyra's fingers closed around the cool glass. The liquid inside glowed. It actually glowed. Her mind flashed to every fantasy story she had ever consumed---the glittering potions, the magical elixirs. She had always thought it was just a storytelling convenience, something made up. But this was real. This was in her hand. The liquid was glowing.

"This is---" She shook her head, unable to find the words. "It actually glows. How does it work? What's in it? Is it---" She hesitated, the word feeling absurd and yet undeniable. "Is it magic?"

Aelindra raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "You really haven't been out in the world much, have you?"

"I---no. I haven't."

"Clearly." The elf settled back on her heels, a faint smile playing at her lips. "Yeah, it's magic. Alchemical, specifically---distilled from herbs that grow in mana-rich soil, treated with a few basic enchantments. Nothing too fancy. If you want to see real magic, you should watch my friend Serana throw a fireball sometime. That's a show."

Lyra's heart hammered. Magic. Real, actual magic. The word felt enormous in her mind, too big to fit. "Magic is real," she breathed. "I've read about it, in stories, but I never thought---"

"Well, now you know." Aelindra gestured at the vial. "Drink up. It works better warm."

Lyra pulled the cork and tipped the contents into her mouth. The liquid was cool and faintly sweet, with a strange, tingling aftertaste that reminded her of mint and something else---something she couldn't name. The effect was immediate. A warm, spreading sensation flooded through her body, concentrating in her feet, and she watched with disbelief as the cuts on her soles began to close, the raw skin knitting together, the pain fading to a dull ache and then to nothing at all.

She flexed her toes against the moss, her mouth hanging open. "That's... that's incredible."

"You're easily impressed." But Aelindra's smile had widened, and there was something almost fond in her pale green eyes. "Come on. We're burning daylight."

She stood and offered Lyra her hand. Lyra took it, and the elf pulled her to her feet with surprising strength. For a moment they stood close together, and Lyra realized with a start that Aelindra was only a few inches taller than her---not the towering, ethereal creature she might have imagined, but a young woman not so different from herself. Older, yes. More experienced. But human, in all the ways that mattered.

No, Lyra corrected herself. Not human. Elf. But still... a person. Just a person.

"Thank you," she said quietly. "For the tonic. For helping me. You didn't have to."

"No," Aelindra agreed, releasing her hand. "I didn't." She started walking again. "But my mother always said I was too soft for my own good. And you looked so pathetic, huddled behind that tree, trying to hide behind your hands like that was going to work." She glanced back, her eyes dancing with amusement. "For future reference, by the way? When you're naked and someone's already seen everything, covering up afterward just makes it more awkward. Just a tip."

Lyra felt her face flush scarlet. "I'll keep that in mind."

"You do that."