Oh, dear Goddess above.
Helda Ninnus.
Imbecileindeed. But still, perhaps, not the best greeting.
What in the hells is wrong with you?was my next thought, seeing as she stood right in the middle of my carrot crop. Eldrene’s requested crop for the Goddess Celebration, no less. And there Helda traipsed, trampling it all to bits. The carrot flies would smell those freshly pressed tops from a mile away. I’d have to sing the poor roots a protection song, though it may do nothingat all at this point with Helda atop them, spreading her bad energies like a plague.
Helda epitomized the phrase “drop-dead gorgeous.” A blonde with impossibly large blue eyes, she was vivacious and always well-dressed, courted only the most renowned of folk, and had a lovely singing voice. Much to my chagrin, her list of attributes could go on forever. Every part of her entranced, though considering she possessed beauty magic, that only made sense.
It was on the rarer end of the lesser magics that could be found in Nestryia. Lesser magics, for the most part, were on the more mundane end, useful for bolstering daily tasks but not flashy. Kitchen magic aided cooking and baking. Garden magic encouraged the growing of things within the earth. The other offshoots worked the same, the only difference being that some folk were stronger than others.
Village bread bakers had kitchen magic, along with gastronomical revelations. You get the picture.
But beauty magic encapsulated something altogether different. Yes, it ensured that the beholder remained utterly irresistible, but it also meant that everything they did appeared soul-wrenchingly well-done. Onlyappeared, because it had a bad habit of falling apart when no one was looking. I suppose that’s how physical beauty worked anyway—it only mattered when it was being watched. I never understood why people valued it so highly. There are many other qualities that are far more interesting. Like archery, or an impeccable ability to knit without looking, or an impressive collection of buttons. That’s true beauty to me.
Nevertheless, I once saw Helda pick up a lute for the firsttime and proceed to play one of the most enchanting tunes I’d ever heard in my life. Did I tell her that? Of course not. Instead, my left eye twitched and an unnecessary amount of rage coursed through my body. Sure, the lute eventually fell out of tune the longer she played. Nothing stays beautiful forever. Even still, the show she put on was mesmerizing.
What must it be like for magic to come so easily? I did not begrudge her because of beauty magic. The carrot tops were my main issue.
Besides, here in Moss, we have a secret name for that type of magic—trickster magic. Just because someone appears good at something does not mean that theycare. And that’s what was important in this little town I called home. Caring and tending. No one liked Helda, per se, but they still cared for her in the way everyone in Moss cares for each other.
However, Helda Ninnus didn’t care for anything other than herself, which would be fine under normal circumstances. We all had our preferences. I loved to be alone, holed up in my cottage like a dastardly hermit. Only Helda insisted upon breaking my peace, my preferences, thus making her the most infuriating person I’d ever known.
“Did you not hear the first rock?” She looked up at me expectantly.
“Yes, I—”
“I didn’t throw that one in your window. Far too big. It took a huge chunk out of your cottage. Just there!” She giggled and pointed to a large, crumbling divot in the cottage wall. “I hope you aren’t angry! Anyhoo, I have loads of things I need to ask you. Mind if I come in?”
“Helda, I have a lot to do today. Eldrene—”
“Oh, I know!” she said imploringly. “Eldrene is comingtomorrow! My oh my, I am so very excited. Every year I think, ‘Three years will be too long to wait for another Goddess Celebration.’ But then, the three years pass, and poof!”—she snapped her pristine nails—“Eldrene comes again! Another quest is doled out. So very sad that she has to come because of a silly little bit of magic.” Helda pursed her bottom lip in a mock-pouting gesture. “But the party makes it all worth it. For me at least!” She let out a tinkling laugh. The morning birds mimicked the sound; even they couldn’t resist her charms.
Traitors.
Maybe this year Helda would get sent on a quest… and not return. That had only ever happened once, but here’s to hoping.
“Yes,” I said, gripping the edges of my windowsill to maintain composure. “But I really must get to work. I have to harvest the carrots and tulips today, and—”
“And the Crown Jewel Tulip, too. Don’t forgetthat, you silly girl!” She swayed her shoulders like she danced to music only she could hear. It made me want to gut her where she stood. Her blood would ruin the soil, though.
“I’m well aware.” I breathed deeply, willing patience into my body like I willed life into dying flowers. I failed miserably. My ability to control my anger was about as successful as my relationship with my magic—so, almost nonexistent. But I wastrying.
“I just think what you do is so impressive. But it must be stressful for you. And you certainly have had a bit of an attitude these last few months. You are living up to yournamesake, Clara Thorne.” She grinned up at me, her impossibly white teeth gleaming in the morning sun. I gave her a tight smile back.
As much as I wished otherwise, Helda—at least in the moment—was not wrong. Being Moss’s Town Gardener and providing the majority of fruits, vegetables, and flowers for the townsfolk already strained my meager garden magic. The Goddess Celebration was a whole other gauntlet. Eldrene had only requested one vegetable this time, mercifully—carrots. And the usual abundance of tulips.
But the Crown Jewel Tulip, her most important requirement, was notoriously testy, requiring very specific preparation—two months of rest beneath the shade of an old oak tree in an enchanted wooden box filled with pine needles, individually plucked by hand, before being serenaded by magic to awaken the bloom.
Of course, I also had to handle special requests from the town’s bakers and cooks: courgettes, herbs of all kinds, flowers for filling up the shoppe windows.
My usual disposition ran grumpy, but prepping for the Goddess Celebration had me frenziedandgrumpy. But maybe I could prove Helda wrong today. I could besweet—or at least whatever was the opposite of grumpy.
“Helda, what do you want?” I forced my tight smile into a wider grin, certain it looked more like a grimace.
“I suppose you insist on staying up there, then?”
I plopped down on the window ledge as an answer.
