Pure

Aoibh came down and began helping Maigred prepare for the lunch rush.

“How did your talk with Finten go yesterday afternoon? I’ve been dying to ask.” Aoibh said as she frosted the little cakes Maigred had baked that morning.

Maigred frowned from the other end of the work table where she was slicing cold meat. She didn’t really want to talk about her discussion with Finten, but she remembered what Finten had said at the end of their conversation. She glanced at Aoibh wondering if the question would be insensitive.

When she had first met Aoibh, they had both quickly learned that the other had things in the past that they didn’t care to talk about, so they had silently agreed not to bring the past up.

Aoibah laughed. “What? Did he propose to you?”

Maigred looked up at Aoibh in surprise. “Why would you think that?”

Aoibh shrugged nonchalantly. “You look like whatever he said was upsetting.”

“You think a proposal of marriage would upset me?”

Aoibh frowned a little. “Well, forgive me for saying it, but you seem like a woman who has no interest in a man.”

Maigred laughed. It would look that way, but Maigred hadn’t really realized it until now. She had never shown any interest in getting married, or in men in general, after her short stint as a prostitute.

“No, he didn’t propose to me. But he did give me an odd suggestion,” Maigred said

“Oh?” Aoibh encouraged with a little smile.

This time it was Maigred’s turn to frown in concern. “If this upsets you, you don’t have to say anything at all and I’ll never bring it up again.”

Aoibh gave Maigred a puzzle look. “Okay,” she said slowly, adding a nod to continue.

“I asked him why he won't fight the wyrm off and he said I should ask you what happens when a tarasque who loses his wife tries to end his enemy.”

Aoibh’s hands stilled and her face went paper white.

Maigred paused her work. “I’m sorry! I didn’t know it was a sensitive subject. I won’t-”

“No.” Aoibh interrupted. “I’ll tell you. It’s just…not a pleasant memory, that’s all.”

Maigred went back to slicing meat and nodded uncertainly.

“Do you know where I’m from?” Aoibh asked.

Maigred shook her head.

Aoibh gave a little nod. “I was born in lady Maeve’s lands, to the south west of here.”

Maigred frowned.

“You’ve never heard of her?”

“No.” Maigred shook her head.

Aoibh smiled sadly. “I’m not surprised. My home is part of the cursed lands now.”

Maigred’s eyes widened. The cursed lands were vast areas full of nothing but ash, sulfur and lava; hot bubbling wastelands that couldn’t support any kind of life. She had heard that even birds who tried to fly over cursed lands died from the poisonous gasses that rose from vents in the ruined ground, that the gasses sometimes blew into the surrounding good lands, poisoning life there.

There was something else about the cursed lands that everyone knew: wyrms were known to live near them.

“It’s part of the cursed land now? It wasn’t always cursed?” Maigred asked. The thought that healthy, nourishing land could turn into something poisonous and deadly had never occurred to Maigred. It was a terrifying idea. If the source of life could become something destructive, what could be relied on?

“No, it wasn’t always cursed. It used to be a good, prosperous land. I don’t know what happened exactly, I was only five when the wyrm came.”

Maigred let out a breath. She leaned over and touched Aoibh’s arm. “Your tarasque failed you too?”

Aoibh smiled bitterly, all her focus on the cake she was spreading with white frosting. “Oh, he more than failed us, Maigred. Do you know what a tarasque is? He’s not quite human, not quite wyrm; he’s closer to being…a caterpillar, really.”

Maigred blinked. She frowned. “Closer to a what?”

Aoibh set the cake down and gave Maigred her full attention. “You see, a tarasque can live as a human if he’s connected to a source of earth and water, but if he embraces his own fire and wind with nothing to temper him, he becomes a wyrm. It was our own tarasque that destroyed us.”

Maigred stared at Aoibh in horror.

Aoibh went back to spreading frosting again. “The wyrm had killed almost everyone before Finten and his men came. They took anyone who would go with them, when there were no hearth maidens left alive to claim their connection to the land, it fell to the wyrm. It became a place of fire and wind. A place of death.”

Maigred stared at Aoibh in horror. “Your own tarasque destroyed you?”

“Yes.”

“What…happened to him?”

“Finten and his men killed him.”

Maigred was feeling light headed. She went to the corner and sat in the chair there. “Does…do all tarasques who have no connection to the land become wyrms?” She asked in a small voice.

Aoibh turned to look at her. “No. It depends on what they embrace. That’s why if a tarasque refuses courtship, a hearth maiden will use her magic to kill him or ban him from her land.”

Maigred swallowed.

“Finten isn’t going to turn, Maigred. He’s chosen to deny his fire, to keep us alive, until the wyrm’s doom comes.”

Maigred looked up at Aoibh. “What’s the wyrm’s doom?”

Aoibh shrugged. “When a wyrm kills a hearth maiden, it gives her the ability to put a curse on him. The earth sister, and the fire brother, will make sure it happens. That’s the wyrm’s doom.”

Maigred stared at Aoibh in horror. Lady Caevah’s last words had never made sense to her, but now she understood.

Her mind traveled back to that moment, thirteen years ago.

Lady Caevah had pushed Maigred behind the heavy drapes in her room before the wyrm’s men could burst through her bedroom door. Caevah met them, standing tall and composed in the center of the room, her hands hanging relaxed and still by her sides.

The men had grabbed Caevah’s arms, forced her to her knees. Then Alvie had entered, holding a knife with a bright, naked blade in her hand. She grinned at Caevah. “You said I wasn’t fit to hold power, but now I hold the power of fire. I hold power over you, your land, your people, your family. My wyrm sends death to you through my hands, while he takes the life of your weak tarasque husband on the battlefield.

“You and your spawn will die alone and unprotected here. Your husband will die alone and powerless, far from your lands. Who holds the power now, bitch?”

Caevah’s lips curled contemptuously. “You hold power? You’ve become a tool in the hands of a wyrm. You lost all power the moment you knelt to him.”

Rage twisted Alvie’s face. She screamed and plunged the blade into Caevah’s chest.

Caevah’s head had jerked forward, her mouth gaping open, a breathless groan of agony deflating her lungs. After a moment her head slowly lifted again. Blood was streaming down her chin. Her mouth moved, she could barely force the words past her trembling lips.

“Doom through love, love for his child.”