Alison knew the old magic had worked through Keir, but Keir believed it had abandoned him after the incident with the vine.
“Yes, although in his case, he sought to fill in his well. But magic, like water, has its way of working through the cracks.”
“If he can use magic, why didn’t it work for him? Why did the vine happen?”
“Magic, as you may have noticed, has a will of its own. There are many theories as to where that will comes from. Some say the Gods above or the Devils below, others say the elements of the world or nature itself, and still others say from the hearts of the people and creatures who live in it. The fairies of this wood believe it is all of those, and that they, like magic itself, are one and the same, although they may appear quite differently at times. But one thing is certain: the will must not be denied. Keir sought to twist something into being that could not be. He, like many before him, tried to conquer the magic and control it to do his bidding, and it transformed into the vine.”
It was similar to what the spriggan had told Alison when she had first learned Keir was responsible for the vine. “So is Keir right? Am I doing magic without realizing it, and if so, how do I learn to control it? After I spoke with the spriggan, I tried to do magic again, but it didn’t work.”
“May I see your hand?” Mab asked.
Alison gave it to her without hesitation.
Mab examined the lines on Alison’s palm without comment. Then she laced her long fingers with Alison’s, and Alison could feel a bit of a pulse travel between their palms.
“Oh,” said Mab. “That’s interesting. Let me go get Keir.”
Mab left, breaking in on Keir’s dance with the dwarf as Alison contemplated what she had learned. It didn’t seem that far-fetched, although it was difficult to imagine that all people had magic, though perhaps there had never been a time in which all people were willing to use it. There seemed to be so many reasons to turn from magic—the difficulty of knowing how to follow its will, the unpredictability of the results, and the scale of the negative consequences, among others.
Was it really worth it then? Was it worth the cost, if one could even determine what the cost was in advance?
Alison had to admit that there was something alluring about it in spite of everything. The mystery and the power of it, the communion with some kind of eternal force, even if she was unsure what that force was.
Mab returned with Keir, his face flushed red from the exertion and his spirits higher than Alison had seen in a long while.
“Did you see any of that? That dwarf I danced with last had spent time with Lady Sibba’s people on the Rock. If we go there, we’ll need to do some stretching first. I’ve never seen people move that way.”
“I did see that. I told you that you were a great dancer,” said Alison, caught up in her thoughts and not quite matching his excitement.
“I’m sorry that I left you,” said Keir. “Mab tells me she’s teaching you about magic?”
He looked at Mab, who took one of each of their hands and placed them together.
Alison felt a pulse again, but it was far stronger than when Mab held her hand.
“Yes, I thought so,” said Mab. “Alison, did you ever notice any sort of magic going on when Keir wasn’t around? Even in hindsight, once you knew to look for it?”
Alison thought about the things Keir had pointed out and realized he had been present for all of them. “No,” she said. “I don’t think so.”
“It’s the bond between you,” said Mab. “It’s the source you’ve been drawing from. As Keir fills his well, some of the water escapes, and that’s what you’ve been drawing from Alison, at least in part.”
“I’m sorry, a well? What are you saying?” asked Keir.
Alison caught him up, watching his reaction closely as she explained that he still had magic too. He didn’t seem surprised.
“I could feel it sometimes. Not as powerful as when we were within the dream world, but I could feel the echo of it,” said Keir. “I tried to ignore it, but I guess it doesn’t work that way.”
“You could continue to fight it, and after a time, it would stop troubling you,” said Mab gently. “But if you wanted to learn to wield it, you could do so. Together. You draw strength from each other. You can use that to dig your wells deeper, to combine and share the water within. In time, it could be as though there was only a single reservoir. That’s how it is for Genn and me.”
“So the bond doesn’t have to be between lovers?” asked Alison.
Keir’s eyes darted from Mab to Alison. There was that “love” word again, sneaking its way into conversation just as it snuck into Alison’s mind over and over.
“Not at all,” said Mab. “There are as many sources of power as there are people. For many, it could be a lover. But the bond could just as easily exist between family or friends. Sometimes, even passing acquaintances can experience it. And for some, the source is something else entirely—a connection to nature, a pet or familiar, even art or music.”
“Can it change?” asked Keir. “If Alison wanted to pursue but I—” He squeezed Alison’s hand. “If I couldn’t.”
“It can,” said Mab. “It might take some time for you, Alison, to find another way to dig your well, but you could do so if you wanted to.”
