Gregoire was an old pervert, but he wasn't an evil man. Delphi had been born with the burden of her father, so the last thing she wanted was to be bound and weighed down by another man through marriage.
Delphi pushed Gregoire out of her mind and went to do her rounds. The village, being a complete backwater, had some uses. For one, there was no one but a midwife to help the women with anything remotely medical.
Delphi quickly saw an opportunity to help out, and now she discreetly traded preventative teas to the baker's and butcher's wives in exchange for bread and the minor cuts of meat. She had healing balms for one of the tavern's bar maids' aching feet in exchange for the dark hair dye she made, and tonics to help the carpenter's arthritis-riddled mother get some relief.
She was mainly paid in trade, which meant there was never much coin to save. Between the food from her clients and thevegetables and herbs from her garden, Delphi kept herself and Narcisse from starving. Sometimes it was a near thing.
Last winter, when everyone was desperate, a group of men dared to venture into the forest in search of deer or boar. Only one man returned, and he babbled like a crazy person about monsters and fae in the woods. Delphi suspected the men had foraged and eaten the wrong kind of mushrooms, and their imaginations had gotten the better of them.
Everyone knew the tales that Mistwood had been the site of the last battle, where men from Chantelun and an army of shape-shifters from the North had fought against the fae thirty years ago. The fae had been driven through the gateways back to their own lands and hadn't been seen since.
Afterward, the people of Chantelun had turned their attention to hunting any witches with fae blood in their veins. The last witch had been burned in the capital, Montcrillon, when Delphi was five years old. Narcisse had forced her to watch as a reminder always to hide the small spark of magic she had inside of her.
In a place like Kyllene, where they trained alchemists and mages, she wouldn't have to hide it. She would be able to disguise it as their wise teachings and not worry about being burned at the stake.
Delphi didn't forget Narcisse's lesson about hiding what was inside her, and she still had the nightmares to remind her never to get complacent. She would smell the smoke, see the red of the dress the woman had been wearing, hear the jeering men, and feel the bloodthirsty hatred and fear in the air.
When Delphi began to get too comfortable, she would go and stand at the edge of the Mistwood to remind herself always to hide what lurked in her veins.
The trees had grown from what was left of the magic-filled bodies of the fae after the battle. It had sprung up in meremonths, fueled by magic and blood. Fear and danger breathed in the air near it, reminding her of that horrible crowd.
The magic and the danger were why everyone in Chantelun, from the youngest child to the old grandparents, knew never to go into the woods or eat anything from them. The hunters should have remembered that, but hunger does stranger things to the mind than bad mushrooms.
Every five years or so, some noble from one of the cities would come up with a plan to destroy the wood. They always failed because the wood fought back.
Delphi knew more than she should about magic, and the type that had created the Mistwood? That kind of power you left the fuck alone.
The sun was going down once Delphi made her final delivery and began to head along the road towards home. She stood at the crossroads and touched the sign back to Bellemere, where she knew she could get her ticket out of Chantelun either around the Mistwood or over the sea.
Just pack your things and run while you can,a voice inside of her whispered.You can work along the way. You know how to take care of yourself, and you would be better off on your own.
"One day," Delphi said wistfully. "One day I'll be free of Narcisse and will follow my own destiny."
Sadly, it wasn't going to be that day, so Delphi summoned her strength and cursed under her breath at the darkening sky. The mist rose at sundown and began to leak out of the woods and over the road.
Delphi was many things, but stupid wasn't one of them. Getting caught in the mist wasn't how she planned to die. She grabbed the hem of the annoying skirts she would soon be rid of and ran to get home.
If Delphi hadn't been brooding so intently, she might have noticed the small catlike creature that watched her from the high branches of a twisted oak. Its eyes shone golden for a moment, waiting for her to get a reasonable distance away, before it shook out its black, feathered wings and followed her.
2
Delphi's melancholy mood only worsened when she went through the small gate of their cottage. Narcisse was awake, and a strange, chemical-like smell emanated from the house.She hid her small purse of coins behind a loose brick in the garden wall and went to find her father.
Delphi opened the door, and a cloud of blue smoke poured out of it. She covered her mouth as the smell of sulfur overpowered her.
"Are you trying to kill yourself? Because a rope would be easier," Delphi called out, waving the smoke away. The basement door was open, and she hurried down the stairs in case he decided to blow them up.
Narcisse was hunched over his work counter, muttering to himself as he scribbled in a tattered notebook.His curly gray hair was sooty and tied back with a piece of string, and his clothes were stained with splattered experiments.
"Ah, you are still alive," she said and looked him over. "You even managed to get your pants on today. Well done."
"My loving daughter and her acidic tongue return at last," Narcisse replied, turning to look at her over his smudgedspectacles. "And were the villagers happy to see you with all of the little gifts of women's magic?"
"That 'women's magic' you sneer at keeps us fed, unlike all of this," Delphi said, gesturing at all his equipment and expensive glassware. None of which he would sell to feed them.
"For your information, I have been making medicine for the grocer to help with his virility problems," Narcisse replied, gesturing at the small tonic bottle. "At least I have the training to make medicines."
At least mine work, Delphi didn't reply. She had been giving the grocer's wife contraceptive tea for months. "He already has four children. He doesn't need more for his poor wife to run around after."
