The Witch with No Name(195)

I always had.





Chapter 31


The sound of baying dogs over the happy chatter outside the pavilion tent held power over me even now, and I shivered at the thread of adrenaline. Feeling it through my hands, Red blew out, telling me to chill. Smiling, I gave her mane a tug, fiddling with the gold ribbons I’d been arranging. I was fine. I was more than fine. It was going to be a fabulous evening, one that I had planned and waited for—if I could just get these Turn-blasted ribbons to lay right.

“Easy, Red,” I soothed, and she flicked an ear at someone’s laugh, clear over the hissing lanterns hanging from the high supports. She didn’t like the people sitting in the rows of white chairs where she would usually crop grass and roll to rub out the itchiness of a long ride. She didn’t like the ribbons I’d plaited in her mane. She didn’t like that I’d blackened her hooves, and she really didn’t like my dress, swishing in the clean straw and trimmed in open lace. It was admittedly too white and too long to be suitable for riding, but that’s what I was going to wear, and she would behave.

“Just a few hours,” I coaxed, popping my cupped hand against her shoulder when she threatened to pull out the ribbons she could reach. The old horse snorted, ribbons forgotten at the unexpected sound, and I held her head to me and took solace in her horsy smell, still there despite the bath and brushing. A few hours ago the pavilion had been frantic with last-minute details and rushing about. It was just Red and me now, waiting until almost the end, and the soothing gray of sunset was nice. I really didn’t have much of a part to play, but I wouldn’t have missed it for anything.

Red’s ears flicked, her body young under a youth charm, but her mind old and tempered. If she was tensing, there was a reason, and I let go, turning to where the white cloth billowed, showing the wedding guests assembled amid fire pots and torches just now starting to give off light, but Red was looking the other way.

“Mom!” Ray whispered, and my eyes widened as she came in the back of the temporary pavilion. “Have you seen my spelling cap?”

I dropped Red’s head, aghast as I ran to close the billowing curtains before anyone could see Ray. “What are you doing here?” I exclaimed, almost whispering it. “You should be lost in the woods by now!” Elven weddings. I’d had no idea they were so complex. No wonder Ellasbeth had wanted a church wedding.

“I had it this afternoon.” Ray swooped about in her lacy wedding dress, and I halted, blinking fast so I wouldn’t tear up. She had no idea how beautiful she was with her dark hair piled atop her head and her color high in worry. “I went to put it on, and it wasn’t there. I think Jumoke’s kids are hiding it.”

“Ray . . .”

“Jenks!” the young woman exclaimed, hands in fists as she looked at the ceiling as if the pixy was up there hiding, and Red snorted, stomping at her show of frustration.

“Ray, relax.”

“But I can’t find it, Mom!”

I won’t cry, damn it, I thought as I stilled her, bringing her to a halt as I tucked a stray curl under a jeweled pin. “I love it when you call me that.”

Ray stopped short, her flush deepening. “Well, you are,” she said, fidgeting. “Ellasbeth is nice and all, but you’re the one Dad loves.”

Meaning Trent, I thought, giving her a hug and feeling her strength and determination, happy that I might have had a part in that. “Your mother would be so proud of you,” I said as I dropped back, still holding her shoulders. “You have her stately beauty.”

Ray’s eyes dropped. “And my dad’s hands,” she said, meaning Quen this time. It made sense if you didn’t think about it too hard. “Mom, I can’t get married without my cap,” she said, her momentary calm gone as she began casting about for it again. “Where’s Jenks? I know it’s Jumoke’s kids. They were plotting to hide it as they did my hair.”

Of that, I had no doubt. The pixies had been in and out of the pavilion/stable all afternoon. Trent had banished them shortly before leaving with Quen, and smiling, I began taking out the pins holding my spelling cap on. “Jenks is doing a last security check in the woods. Here.” The last pin came out, and I shook my hair free. I wouldn’t be doing any magic today. “Wear mine. No one will know the difference.”

“I can’t wear yours,” she protested.

Eyebrow’s high, I smirked. “I can ask Lucy for hers. She’s sitting with Ellasbeth.”

Ray winced, her eyes flicking to the shifting walls as if able to see the large glen beside the river where her mother had last stood upon the earth. The last I’d looked, Lucy was sitting directly between Ellasbeth’s stately snobbery and my mom’s loud refusal to let anyone think Ellasbeth was better than she was. Takata was enjoying himself immensely, sitting back and watching the show before the show, as it were.