This turned into a huge, multipart Tale of the Navel: The Shadow Forest about Leiwell. This is the final part...
He wiped his forehead, focusing on the sweat upon his brown. Such little details grounded him, kept him solid.
He looked up to meet sharp, hazel eyes, assessing him, measuring him from the rounded cheeks, flushed face, and deceptively human countenance of the woman in front of him. All of this seemed like part of a mask, an illusion of reality as fragile as his own existence in the solid world.
“You seem like a nice lad, whatever else you might be.” Magdalena nodded in a slow, thoughtful maner. “Take this as a friendly warming.” She pointed a chapped finger at his master. “Don’t trust that one. Everything from his appearance to the double meanings of his words is deceptive.”
“My master never lies.” Leiwell refused to look away from that doubting, cynical gaze, nor to glance behind his shoulder at the man behind him. Either could be a betrayal of that man. “He always tells the truth, no matter how painful it might be.”
“Once again your master has attracted the unwavering devotion of the innocent.” Magdalena twitched her mouth into what might have been a smile, but looked more like a grimace. “You’ll find he has a way of twisting the truth to his advantage, even if it twists you as well.” She dropped her finger. “Mark this well. He’s presented himself to you as a master. No a friend, father figure or lover, but a master. This means what he requires is loyalty and obedience. Not love.”
These words struck him like scalding water, burning inside his chest and blistering on his hands. Perhaps they wouldn’t have hurt so much if they weren’t on the threshold of the Shadow Forest.
Or perhaps it was simply she voiced his own doubts.
He still struggled to stare straight into the face of this attack, to take the blow. “No, he doesn’t require my love.” He met those angry hazel eyes. “It’s a gift.”
His master’s fingers spasmed on his shoulders, even as they tightened. “Which I accept with all my heart.”
The promise lingered in the air, clearing the discord.
“Do you now?” Magdalena gave his master and himself critical looks, but it didn’t matter. Her words no longer had power over Leiwell. “You’re quite gracious about accepting gifts. Here’s hoping no one regrets giving them.”
With that parting shot, she stepped back in the direction of the carved door, only to pause. “Oh, and little Leiwell?”
He tensed at the sound of his name, but the strange woman offered him a smile. “No need to look so scared. I no longer bite…much.” Her sharp gaze softened, relaxing her entire face into something more friendly. “The next time we meet, go ahead and call me Maggie.”
Such sudden smiles were unexpected, enough to make Leiwell recoil. “Are you offering me your nickname as a gift?”
“Or I’m asking you for a gift.” She chuckled. “I have a feeling your master’s life is going to be a lot more interesting with you around.”
After delivering this almost compliment, Magdalena…Maggie…stepped through the door, disappearing into the wood as if it was air.
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