“No, but…could you not use your power to…make some kind of shield?”
Another long-suffering sigh. “I suppose so.”
He held his hands in front of him, shaping and pulling the light as it poured from his skin, much as he had at Arachne’s when creating a mirror. I was still fascinated, and fought back the urge to run my hand through it. He appeared to be fashioning some kind of opaque curtain, and soon it concealed him from me.When he was finished, it wrapped around the entire pool, caging me in with a few of his little lanterns.
“I can’t see you,” I said slowly.
“Did you need to?”
“Well…how do I know you can’t see me?”
All I heard was one of his cawing laughs, and then, “For fuck’s sake.” Suddenly, I could look straight through the curtain again and see the impatience on his face. “Walk through and see for yourself.”
Hesitantly, I put a hand out and watched as it slipped through the shimmering wall of light, which felt warm to the touch. Another step and I was through it, my body tingling with the sensation of the magyk. From this side, the curtain of light was a soft, solid golden color. It rippled slightly, as if it were made of real cloth, but was impossible to see through. I stepped back to the other side, where I could still see out to the rest of the cave.
“Thank you,” I said quietly, and Devil’s expression softened.
“No one else will be able to walk through,” he said, “and you will see anyone who comes near. Take as much time as you’d like.” I nodded, forgetting that he couldn’t see me, then watched as he turned back toward the falls, his body illuminated by the light filtering in through the sheet of water. To my chagrin, he began stripping his own clothes off, starting with the belt around his waist. My immediate reaction was to turn away, but then I remembered that heknewI could see him, and undoubtedly wanted an audience. Caught in the stubborn grip of morbid curiosity, I inched closer to the curtain, watching from the corner of my eye. Powerful archer’s muscles in his back and shoulders rippled as he pulled his tunic off, revealing the snakeskin tattoo-scars wrapped around his entire torso. My eyes followed the shimmering, sinuous trail across his ribs and down his dimpled lower back, until it disappeared into the waistband of his trousers. The patterns were only covered for a moment, however, before he shed the trousers too. It was all I could do not to choke on my own breath when I saw that they did, in fact, extend over seeminglyeveryinch of his well-built frame—or at least, the back half.
“Oh, grow up, May,” I told myself in a whisper. “It’s not as if you haven’t seen a naked man before.”
Not one like that, said a tiny voice in the back of my mind—one which strenuously willed him to turn around, until he glanced over his shoulder. The smirk lighting up his face was matched only by the heat flooding mine, and I quickly looked away. Blessedly, he said nothing, and I heard him give a loud whoop as he leapt through the waterfall into the pool on the other side. Silently berating myselffor having given him exactly what he wanted, I sat on the edge of the hot spring to remove my boots and stockings. The water nipped at the blisters on my heels, but felt heavenly on the rest of my aching feet, which were not used to walking uphill for so long. As I began to remove the rest of my clothes, I looked back to make sure Devil was gone, then wondered if I didn’t owe him a peek now that I’d glimpsed his entire naked backside.
“Sweet Mother,” I sighed as I sank fully into the pool, allowing myself to be drawn into the all-consuming warmth as my hair spread out on top of the water. Of the few luxurious pleasures I’d experienced in my life—cold cider, a clean bed, fresh honeyed almonds—this was beyond a doubt the best. I wanted to stay wrapped in this very particular sense of comfort and safety forever, entirely forgoing the outside world and its litany of troubles. Remembering the naiad in the lake, I wondered if there was any magyk capable of transforming me into a creature of the Arden’s waters, so I could live out the rest of my life here in this pool. I stayed there, floating in the semi-darkness, for as long as I could. It was so still—the only sound a faint chorus of water tumbling over itself—and I realized how desperate I was for that sense of peace, something I had never really known. Perhaps that was my nature, and perhaps I would never truly find it, but here, beneath this water, behind a shield of magyk light, I could have sworn peace began to seep slowly beneath my skin.
“What exactlyisyour magyk?” I asked Devil, examining one of his fireflies as it tiptoed across my thumb. The walk back down the Hollow to Aliena’s cottage was, thus far, much easier than the hike to the falls. I had not wanted to leave the pool, but he’d forced me out by threatening to remove the light shield. Begrudgingly, I had abandoned my warm refuge and barely managed to finger-comb the tangles from my hair before getting dressed again.
Devil held up his hands, palms facing each other, and allowed a spider web of golden, glowing strings to flow between them. “I am a Lightweaver,” he said. “We are creatures of the air, of fire, and of sun.” The web of light coalesced into a disc, which he rolled across the backs of his fingers like a coin. Then, he tossed it up into the air and spread his hands in an arc above his head, causing it to shatter like glass. On instinct, I ducked, but each shard of light transformed into a dozen Huntress moths, which swarmed us, gently brushing against my skin. Their warm touchmade me smile and laugh, but when I reached out to get one to land on me, my hand passed straight through it.
“They aren’t real…” I murmured. “Just a trick of light.”
“Bendingthe light,” he said, pulling the moths toward him and transforming them into a flowing river of gold that swirled around his body until he vanished from sight entirely. “I can show you anything you want to see, but it won’t be tangible, nor permanent.”
He reappeared suddenly in the form of a faun, then as an old man, then as a tall, beautiful woman, then finally as himself again. As I watched, he conjured up two miniature figures—one of himself and one of me—then moved his hands like a puppeteer and made them dance together between our feet. I dropped to my knees and watched, fascinated, as the perfect, miniature copies spun across the grass.
“I could make them do other things,” he said with a mischievous smile.
I frowned up at him. “You really are a menace, aren’t you?”
“You have no idea.” The dancing figures disappeared in a puff of golden smoke, and I stood up to brush off my dress.
“How did you come by that power?” I asked. “Do all children of the Arden have a magyk gift?”
“Many do, yes. They are small but useful things, usually, like our wings, or the ability to speak to otherwise dumb beasts. But sometimes the Huntress sees fit to bless us with greater gifts.”
“What do you mean by…the Huntress?”
Devil rolled his eyes. “No, I suppose they wouldn’t have taught you that in the Abbey. Didn’t you ever wonder what your favorite creature was named after?” He let loose a single, golden Huntress moth from his hand, which fluttered around me and alighted on my shoulder.
“I know some of the old legends,” I murmured, “of the fay gods who roamed this land before humans ever set foot here. But they were only ever put forth as myths…ancient stories.”
“Ah, your Church taught you to look at history through its own stained glass windows, distorted and discolored by their design. The true history of the Arden, and of this land, goes much deeper, but I am not the one to tell it to you.”
“That doesn’t answer my question of who the Huntress is.”
“She is one of the Twelve, a goddess worshipped by the Fair Folk, alongside her brothers and sisters.” He twisted his hand and twelve faceless, human-like figures appeared before me. As he spoke, each stepped forward in turn, mesmerizing me. “The Teacher, eldest of the Twelve, guardian of knowledge and children,with authority over all her siblings. The Boatman, who ferries the dead to the next world. The General—her wisdom and leadership are weapons all their own. The Warrior, worshipped for his loyalty and willingness to die for others. The Smith, god of creators, those working with their hands. The Archer, a trickster with a quiver of magyk arrows, always on a mission of chaos or humor.” I looked up at Devil, who winked in response to my small smile. “The Fisherman, guardian of our sacred waters and those who live in them. The Judge, arbiter of divine disputes, keeping order amongst his family and amongst nature. The Sower—she plants, harvests, cooks, and teaches us how to do the same. The Lover, embodiment of physical desire, both male and female in one body. The Minstrel, guardian over artists, musicians, writers—those who create with their minds. And of course, his twin sister, the Huntress. She is a goddess of solitude, of the moon, of wild things, and wild places, and sheisthe Arden.”
“Sheisthe Arden…” I repeated.
