She remained intangible.
I reached up with my left hand to clasp at the chain and stone around my neck, keeping my right, bleeding hand on the ground. I looked around. What was this field? I could see no discernible previous use for it. It seemed like fresh dirt, if a bit rocky, but I was still educating myself on cultivated lands and their regions, seasons and soils.
I placed my left hand on the ground again and said to Mother Earth, “I want to go home and bathe and pleasure myself. I have been studying all the writing about you. I have bled into you. I have prayed. I have tried. I havecried. Please show me what Cian says he can see in me.”
The sun was rising, beating down on the back of my neck. There was no wind. The day was still and sticky. Birdsong and bees’ buzzing was all I could hear.
I leaned forward on my knees, growling with resentment and smacked my palms against the ground. “Oh, come on, you bloody hag!”
From far off, I thought I heard a cackle in the distance and then right at the shell of my left ear, a crone’s croak said,so be it, girl. And the earth beneath me shook. It quaked and rippled, the piled dirt sitting atop the plowed rows tumbling from its arrangement. The vibrations caused me to fall back on my heels, my fingers grasping into the dirt for purchase. Stones shot out of the ground around me and throughout the field, my eyes only catching a glimpse of those farther away. They were mostly pebble-sized but some were as big as chicken eggs, a few even as big as an apple. They all hovered in the air for a breath, almost motionless, as if time stopped, and then they dropped back down on the surface of the field with a chorus of dull thuds. And the earth stilled and I regained my balance.
59. Anger
I looked towards the pear orchard to see the four men watching intently, both of the farmers’ mouths open. Cian held up a hand to me, a smile on his face. Suddenly, Alric broke from the tree line and ran towards me. I watched him pelt towards me, a frown on his face. I was in shock at what had just happened and his dashing over to me only served to further confuse me. He skidded to a halt when he reached me.
“Edith,” he gasped, squatting next to me. “You are bleeding!”
I looked up at him. “I am?”
He reached out a hand to cup my face. “One of the rocks hit you.” He pulled his hand away to show me the blood on it.
“I guess she wanted more from me. My hand’s blood was not enough,” I said, looking back down at the ground, patting it. “Did you see that?” I met his eyes again.
“I did, wife.” He was staring at me, a crease between his brows.
I felt childlike and old at the same time. I felt surprise and steadiness simultaneously. I had claimed it. I had demanded it and she had delivered. I had magic.
“I have it,” I whispered. “It wasn’t a mistake of Cian’s. I have her magic.”
My husband nodded. “Yes, you do. I am— I am proud of you. Can you stand?”
I looked at him in confusion as he put his hands under my arms and lifted me to stand with him. I swayed a little and he steadied me.
“You are dead on your feet,” he grumbled. “We are done here.” He took my right hand in his right hand and put his left arm around my shoulders and began to walk me back to the tree line. His head was angled towards me, watching me try to walk.
I leaned into him and said, “I never thought it would happen.”
“Well, it did and your face is bleeding as a result.”
“Are you angry, Alric?” My words were genuinely inquisitive, but my tone was humorous. Nothing could steal my joy.
“I am incensed,” he responded. “I could kill him.”
Not understanding his meaning, I let him lead me as I stared down at the dirt beneath our feet, my mind thinking over and over, thank you, thank you.
When we reached the pear orchard and the three men standing in it, Alric said to Cian, “You tricked her.”
Cian frowned. “I hardly think this was a trick—”
Alric spoke over him. “You suspected she had stone magic, you took her to a field full of rocks and let her pray over it. Without so much as warning her. She could have been hurt. Sheishurt.”
Cian shot Alric a look of irritation and said to me, “Are you alright, Edie?”
“Never better,” I exuded. “Did youseethat?”
Before Cian could reply, my husband continued. “You do not think this plan the least bit reckless? There is blood on her face. There is a cut on her brow.”
“I know what I do, captain,” Cian retorted. “Her magic is weak and specific and it was hard to identify.” He turned to me. “I apologize. It is not as strong as I would have hoped. But earth magic is rare and this remains a cause for celebration. Stone and rock and mineral will speak to you now. You may even be able, after many winters of devotion, to manipulate them.”
