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“Could you hush! The whole town will hear you!” Marian hissed at her brother. She knew this would happen the moment the twins decided to come along, it was just like them to ruin everything!
“I am hushing, stop being so dramatic all the time!” Carver said, balancing the vial of potion on his knuckles.
“Put that away! You’re just going to drop it again!”
“Am not!” he replied hotly before it rolled of his fingers, again, and he caught it by noisily slapping his palms together. He’s been playing with that stupid vial of Rock Armour potion ever since he won it from Peter Haigins in a bet. Apparently he was saving it for his next big fight.
Boys…!
“That doesn’t count!” he quickly said, and wisely chose to return it to his pocket instead of his knuckles when he saw her withering look.
Marian blew out a breath. Right. Patience, she could do this. Dad said part of being a good mage is mastering patience. No problem. She could ignore the most annoying eight-year-old in the world. Just another trial to make her better. She was practically an adult, so rising above a kid was no problem. No problem at all.
“Besides, you’re wearing so much of Mum’s scented oil, people will smell you all over town before they hear us. It’s no use smelling pretty, you’re still an ugly ol—”
That’s it, she thought as she unceremoniously grabbed him by the back of the neck and tried to rub his face in the dirt. She just needed him to eat dirt a little!
“Let go!” he struggled, bracing with his arms against the ground while trying to get a side kick in where they were all crouched behind the low fence.
It was the sound of Bethy noisily biting into an apple that had them both freeze mid scuffle, his dirty foot firmly pushing into her stomach to get some distance between them. Even though Marian had six years on Carver, the little knobhead was far stronger than he had any right to be!
“Are you… Eating an apple?!”
“Yep,” Bethy said, biting into the apple again. It was big, and red, and if the crunching noises were any indication, the sweetest thing this side of town.
“Where did you get it?”
“From the tree,” Bethy said nonchalantly, pointing at the tree they’ve all been staring at for the last ten minutes.
“What!? You just went and got it from the tree!? We don’t even have a plan yet! Why do you think we’ve been sitting here for all this time?! What if Mr Dodsen saw you?!”
“He didn’t.”
“What if he did?!”
“You were taking too long, and I’m hungry!”
“I want one too!” Carver said, rising from his perched position. Marian yanked him down by the back of his shirt, making it choke him a little. Good!
“This is exactly why I didn’t want you to come! You are such…. children!”
The twins looked at each other, and then at her.
“Yes,” they said together.
“Look, we need at least twenty for all the jam we want to make, and Mr Dodsen is a real miser, we need to be careful!”
“I don’t think he’s home,” Bethy said, throwing away the empty core. “Rigby’s not in his stable.”
“Great! Can I go now?” Carver asked Marian, dodging her hands and hopping over the fence anyway. Bethy was close on his heels, leaving Marian to reluctantly follow behind them. Why did they have to come? This was her gift to Dad, and they were ruining it!
Leaves cascaded from above as the twins raced to the higher branches, and Marian took a last wary look in the direction of the house. Circling below, she started pointing out all the good specimens that caught her eye. It was Dad’s birthday next week, and he loved apple jam more than anything, and with him being away on a job, this was the perfect time to make some without him noticing.
“Hold the bag, Mar!” Carver whisper-yelled from above, and she held it open for him as it started raining apples from above.
“Ouw!” she said angrily as one hit her on the head. She knew he had better aim than that!
“Sorry!” he sang from above, just as another apple missed her nose.
“Carver, I swear, if one m—”
“Hey, Mar, come this way!” Bethy called from the other side, where she straddled a branch. Marian moved over quickly. At least she knew Bethy wouldn’t aim for her head.
“We need about three more good ones,” she said, looking at their haul.
“There’s none near me that looks nice enough,” Bethy said. “But there is over there, above Carver, I’ll get it!” she said, eagerly, as she started to move to his branch.
“Bethy, wait!” Marian said, alarmed. “I don’t think it’s strong enough to hold both of you!”
“It’s fine, look!” her sister said as she lifted to her toes, holding on to the branches around her to steady herself. Grunting, she reached her price and dropped two more while Carver sidled closer to her to help keep her steady.
“Carver, you’re adding to much weight to it!” Marian warned, watching the branch where the twins now stood next to each other.
“Mar, can you stop complaining? You sound like Mum!”
“I do not!”
“Look!” he said, gently bouncing up and down on the branch, causing Bethy to giggle as she grabbed onto a side branch for balance. “We’re fine!”
“Carver, don’t!” Bethy squealed, her warning diminished by the laughter that accompanied it.
“I’m leaving!” Marian huffed, tightening her grip on the bag of apples as she turned to go. They could do what they wanted, at least she got the stupid apples.
She didn’t get very far before a loud crack made her whip back around, eyes flying up to where both twins were now watching her, white-faced, frozen in place.
Before she could react, the back door to the house slammed opened and Mr Dodsen came barreling out. Normally, at this point, she would just run. He was old and slow and likely hadn’t recognised her yet. But this wasn’t a normal situation, the tree agreed, as another slow crack snapped through the air.
Mr Dodsen was too upset to notice. “I got you now, you little thief! Don’t move!” he yelled.
Shit! Shitshitshitshitshitshit….
The long list of consequences and dire warnings of what could happen if someone saw her using magic in town all flitted through her mind. It would serve them right, they’d only get what they deserved, they never listened to her, ever! She could still run, just run and… what?
Frustrated anger, more towards herself than them, welled up inside her. They could get in trouble until the cows came home for all she cared, but she knew she could never willfully let them get hurt. Taking a deep breath and praying to Andraste herself for help, she started weaving a spell. Dad hadn’t shown her what to do when trees with your siblings in started breaking above your head, but if she could just push against the branch, surely she could hold it up.
How wonderful for Mr Dodsen, having his thief just standing there frozen like an idiot, watching him wide-eyed and panicked, clutching the bag of stolen apples. If there was a way to look more guilty, she didn’t know it.
“You’re Malcolm Hawke’s kid!” he yelled triumphantly, coming closer.
“I’m… I’m…” Marian stammered, for once in her life, completely and utterly without words. The weight of the branch with the two idiots on it was pushing back against her mind, grinding into her very spine, as if she was trying to hold it up with her brain. She supposed that she was. The twins were still frozen in fright, not knowing if they should move and draw the man’s attention, or just keep still and hide.
There could still be a way to talk herself out of this.
“Well, nothing to say for yourself?!” he barked angrily.
She swallowed. “I heard someone yelling, and when I came to look, I found… I found…” she faltered, spots starting to swim in front of her eyes. So much for talking then… So much for thinking, her brain was too full!
“Bah! You don’t expect me to believe that, do you!”
Marian felt herself swaying. “I’m…” she shook her head, cold sweat erupting on her forehead. “I don’t feel good… Mr Dodsen… was going… apothecary…” she gasped, dropping to her knees with the effort of holding the spell in place. At least it wasn’t all a lie, she thought, holding on for dear life. The extra burden of handling the man in front of her at the same time was double the agony.
“Hey, girl, are you… Adelle!” he yelled over his shoulder towards the house. “Adelle, come help!” He turned back to Marian. “Oh Maker's beard, your nose is bleeding!”
Mrs Dodsen came rushing out of the house, and as they helped her into the kitchen, she felt the spell slip from her grasp, fighting to drag her consciousness with it. She could only pray that the twins had used the time to get out of trouble.
Her ears were ringing too much to hear if there were any more cracks or fallen branches, no matter how hard she listened.
“Dear child, whatever is the matter? Here, take this handkerchief! Let me get you some sugar water!”
Pressing the fabric to her nose, she gratefully closed her eyes, trying to get the world to assert itself. Were the twins alright? They had to be, surely Mr Dodsen would’ve heard if they fell with the broken branch! What if he was so busy helping her that he didn’t even notice? She was going to kill them, they had better be alright!
Struggling, she sat up, shaking her head, forcing the cold sweat away so that she could go and see for herself.
“What did you do to the girl? Did you scare her? I told you not to yell at the kids like that!”
“Me! This wasn’t my fault, I caught her stealing apples!”
“Apples?! Hank! We’ve got enough apples!”
“It’s the last of the season!”
“Wasn’t me…” Marian mumbled, through the cloth, accepting the glass of water Mrs Dodsen was handing her with a shaking hand.
“What?!” Mr Dodsen exploded, I caught you red-handed! “I can prove it! Where’s the bag? I’ll get it!” he said eagerly to his wife, hobbling out of the kitchen as fast as his cane would allow.
Mrs Dodsen sighed, turning her attention to Marian again. “Don’t mind him, dear, he’s just an old carmudgeon. Always has been, there’s no changing it now, I’m afraid.”
“It’s gone!” the old carmudgeon said, storming back into the room. “Someone took it!”
“Took what, dear?”
“The evidence! The apples! Someone took it!!”
“See,” Marian said, demurely. “It wasn’t me. I just found the bag like that. Whoever done it must’ve been hiding somewhere.”
“Do you take me for a—”
“Dear, she’s not feeling well! Stop pestering the girl.”
“What were you doing outside then?”
“Just passing on my way to the apothecary, sir. On account of not feeling well.”
“She is awfully white, Hank. Just look at the poor thing!”
“Thank you, Mistress,” Marian said, trying to look as poorly as she could while taking another glass of sugar water from the woman. It was kind of nice. Her head felt funny, empty almost, like it had been stuffed full of something that had been yanked out again, and now there were all of these echoing, extra spaces that hadn’t been there before. At least the spots were gone, though it almost felt like she was looking through her eyes from the wrong place. Like her whole self on the inside had moved two inches to the left and didn’t quite fit her whole self that was on the outside anymore. She wasn’t particularly fond of the feeling, to be honest.
Though Mrs Dodsen was patting her hand. Marian couldn’t feel relieved. She still had to get out of this mess! Mr Dodsen could still get her into heaps of trouble; he certainly seemed determined to! She didn’t exactly need Dad to know where the apples came from. She doubted if he’d be happy to know they… borrowed it.
At least she was pretty sure her siblings were alright. If they did fall Mr Dodsen would’ve seen them going outside. Plus, the apples were gone. Smart move, she thought begrudgingly.
Must’ve been Bethy’s idea.
“I don’t buy it,” Mr Dodsen said, angrily crossing his arms, while his wife rolled her eyes at him. “I’ll send for your father, hear what he has to say.”
“He’s out of town, Sir.”
“A likely story!”
Before she could proclaim her innocence any further, there was a knock at the door. When it became clear that her husband wasn’t going to move from where he was staring daggers at his suspect, Mrs Dodsen sighed and got up to go open it.
Marian refused to break eye-contact with him, even though all she wanted to do was put her head on her arms until things moved back where they were supposed to go. What she wouldn’t give for an elfroot potion right about now…
“Oh, my dears!” she could hear Mrs Dodsen in the distance. “Can I help you?”
There was some mumbled voices too far to hear, and then Marian was forced to look away from Mr Dodsen as her siblings were ushered into the kitchen by his wife.
“Mar! There you are!” Bethy said a little to jovially, her manner stilted by slight panic. Hopefully, it wouldn’t be too obvious to the older couple.
“A-ha!” Mr Dodsen said, swinging his cane triumphantly in the twins’ direction, making Marian hastily lean back to avoid a collision with her already taxed head. “Accomplices! Returned to the scene of the crime, are you?!”
“Uh…”
“Hank, stop scaring the children!”
“What are you doing here?” the carmudgeon demanded.
“We… uh… just… needed to give our sister some… potion,” Bethy stammered.
“We ran ahead to the apothecary, but when we came back, she wasn’t outside anymore,” Carver said, defiantly staring at Mr Dodsen.
“Oh, how nice! Such a loving family,” Mrs Dodsen cooed.
“Thank you for the water, Mistress. We’d better go,” Marian said, getting up.
“Let’s see it then!”
The twins froze.
“See what?”
“This medicine you went and got!”
“No,” Carver said automatically. Because really, what else would he say?
“A-ha! I knew it! Guilty!”
“Oh, Hank—”
“I am not! Look then!” Carver said defensively and removed the potion he’d been playing with earlier from his pocket.
Marian’s heart dropped in her shoes. Shit. Shitshitshitshitshitshit… There realy was only one thing that could possibly happen now.
*******
“You owe me a Rock Armour potion,” Carver grumbled angrily as they walked down the overgrown path to their house.
Well, her siblings walked, she… waddled. Who knew that a potion meant to turn your body to rock, quite literally turned your body to rock!
“Shut up, and help me!” she sighed, warily looking at the narrow lane between the trees they had to squeeze through on their shortcut home. She couldn’t even shake her head in dismay as they each grabbed a rock-hard arm, turning her sideways and starting to wiggle her through, all the while arguing about who's way was better.