“Did you kill the ice giant?” I asked, turning to Aisling.
He shook his head. “No, I happened to come upon the scene at the very end. The ice giant couldn’t see Mavis because she was hiding behind a large rock, and ice giants have no sense of smell. He had slaughtered her parents by then, and so when I stumbled into the scene, he was already leaving the area.”
“You’re lucky he didn’t see you,” Thornhold said.
“Very much so. I waited until he was gone and then rushed over to see if I could help her parents, but both were dead. It was then that I heard Mavis crying. I couldn’t see her at first, but I finally found her. She was around five years old and terrified. I coaxed her out, and she told me what had happened. I gathered her up, and buried her parents as best as I could. I could only cover them with snow, but I figured that was better than nothing. I gathered up everything that was on them and loaded it up on my sled, then bundled Mavis onto the sled and headed home. She fell asleep, and when she woke up, she never said another word.”
“The moment Aisling told us what happened, we took her in,” Magdala said. “She’s a good girl, although we keep a close watch on her since she can’t scream or say a word. I believe shock cost her muteness. Unfortunately, nothing we’ve been able to do has managed to heal her.”
“How do you communicate?” Bran asked.
“Through a sign language of sorts. She bonded with Alina, and the two can communicate without words or symbols, for the most part. She’ll always be in my care,” Magdala said. “I wouldn’t trust any man in these parts to betroth her. There’s too much chance they’d abuse her because of her muteness.”
By now we were under the canopy of trees. Although they weren’t tall compared to the trees we will use to, they still towered over us. The path became smoother, easier to navigate, and now and then I could hear the rustle of some animal in the bushes.
I noticed I was breathing easier. The sense of dread I’d been carrying since the beginning of the trip seemed to slip away. There was a calmness to the area, a silent peace that filled the air. As the afternoon wore away, we began to see houses here and there among the trees. The cheerful lights emanating from within warmed my heart, and I was grateful that we had accepted Magdala’s invitation.
As the afternoon drifted along, the scent of cooking began to fill the air as we passed close to some of the houses. There was a magical comfort to the area, one that made me want to hide here and hope that Zaran never found me. I played with the idea in my mind, though I knew it wasn’t logical. I couldn’t just live here with the key around my neck. Someday he’d find me. But the thought of settling down in one of the little houses in this mountain village made it almost worth the chance.
By around fourPM, according to my watch, Magdala turned the wagon off the road, heading for a sizable cottage. It was enchanting, two stories high, with smoke curling out of the chimney. The walls were pale green, and I wondered what they used for paint. Although given this was built off of the game, it could’ve been magic that painted the sides of the house.
The door opened, and a young woman ran out. She looked to be about fifteen, and she had a broad smile on her face as sheraced toward Magdala. Her dark brown hair flowed down to her waist, and she had gathered it back beneath the bandana. She was wearing a heavy skirt that nearly swept the ground, and a thick tunic beneath a pair of suspenders. As she raced up to Magdala, she froze, staring at us.
Magdala turned around. “This is my daughter Mavis. Welcome to my home. Enter and be safe.”
