To Bear an Iron Key by Kessler Jackie Morse

Author:Kessler, Jackie Morse [Kessler, Jackie Morse]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: magic, fairies, paranormal, supernatural, witches, fey
Publisher: Month9Books, LLC
Published: 2014-05-06T06:00:00+00:00

WISE WORDS

“You have returned,” Bromwyn said meekly.

“And you have a penchant for pointing out the obvious.” Niove Whitehair glowered down at her, and Bromwyn cringed. The lanterns hanging overhead cast deep shadows on her grandmother’s seamed face, and the whites of her eyes glowed with power. For her to display even a hint of her magic so openly meant that she was completely livid with Bromwyn. That didn’t bode well.

“I would ask how everything goes,” her grandmother said with a sniff, “but that is painfully apparent.”

No, that didn’t bode well at all.

Bromwyn bit her lip and looked down at her muddy feet. She wished she could just disappear—which, strictly speaking, she could, but her grandmother would easily see through the illusion. And that would put Niove in an even worse mood.

“Tell me this, Granddaughter: Are the fey bound by any rules this night? Or have you forgotten everything?”

Bromwyn whispered, “They cannot steal children, or lure adults.” She coughed. “Or eat them.”

After a long pause, Niove said, “Well then, that is something, at least. Still, I expected better from you.” She snorted in disgust. “Look at them, romping about, frolicking as if this were their own personal playground. Makes me want to spit. You should have done better than this, girl.”

Blushing furiously, Bromwyn said nothing. She was too upset to even be angry at her grandmother’s words, for Niove was right. Bromwyn should have done better. And not because of the risk of losing her magic, but for the larger reason: The people of Loren were suffering for her oversight. She bit back a sob.

“Don’t talk to her like that.”

Bromwyn couldn’t have heard properly. Surely, she imagined Rusty coming to her defense. No one, not anyone, ever talked back to Niove Whitehair.

Her grandmother boomed, “Who are you, boy, to tell me how I may speak to my granddaughter?”

Fire and Air, Bromwyn thought. Rusty really did speak aloud! She wanted to kiss him and curse him, but she couldn’t bring herself to say or do anything, other than tremble before her grandmother and await judgment.

“I’m her friend,” Rusty said, his voice steady and not sounding at all scared. “And more than that, I’m the Key Bearer. It was my idiocy that got us into this mess, not hers.”

By Nature’s grace, her best friend was possessed. That had to be it. There was no other explanation for him being so pert to the village Wise One, or why her grandmother hadn’t stricken him down by now. Bromwyn’s temper was short; Niove’s was legendary.

“An honest thief,” her grandmother mused. “Who would have guessed?”

“Bromwyn Darkeyes is the one who saved Master Tiller’s fields,” said Rusty, sounding not at all like the boy Bromwyn knew—he sounded older, more confident. “And she’s the one who talked sense into the mudrats before they did something horrifically dumb, like follow the fairies up the Hill and through the Door. And she’s the one who talked the village adults out of a murder or two.”

“Really,” Niove said thoughtfully.

Bromwyn felt her grandmother’s gaze raking over her, and she desperately tried not to whimper.

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