Sweet Silius Island Honey: Chapter Two
Owen learns more about his new employer.
Teenage street urchin Owen and witch heiress Wanda venture to the land of the bee people in this 11-chapter fantasy novel.
New to the story? Click either of the following buttons to catch up:
The next day, an elderly cook made breakfast, a white-haired maid served it in the common room, a silver-bearded groundskeeper showed Owen the tool shed, and Owen got to work. He decided to start by clearing out the trash, and as he went along, he noted everything that looked like it needed repair. The old master had been sick for a long time, so the yacht had fallen into major disuse before the brother's family moved in. Fortunately, Owen didn't see anything irreparable, either inside or out. The sails would need to be replaced, though, and the engine needed some new spark plugs and solenoids. But for Owen, it was just like the fishing boats, except that he could work at his own pace, listen to the radio as much as he wanted, and not have to worry about a captain barking orders.
In the evening he told Wanda about the repairs, and she gave him a check book and a train pass so he could go back to town for whatever parts he needed. The next day, that's what he did, asking around at the wharf for recommendations. Captain Novogrod not only suggested some places and products, but was kind enough to lend a truck to load everything and give Owen a ride home.
Some days, Duncan would come out to watch Owen work on the yacht, and Owen would invite him on board to show him around. The kid even helped out by holding tools, holding boards in place, and carrying out the trash. He would always ask Owen about sailing—what all the ropes and poles were for, what his scariest voyage was, the biggest fish he'd ever caught, and so on. On occasion he would also bring out cookies, cupcakes, or even pork chops he'd made.
"Dang, you really are good," Owen said, chewing on a bite of meat. "I was lucky if I could ever eat this well on the fishing boats. You ever enchant this stuff?"
Duncan shook his head. "You have to be a serious chef before you can even think of enchanting it."
"You know, I'll bet if you put Sal's honey on your stuff, you could—"
"Nah," Duncan said. "Grandma and Grandpa don't like Sal."
"Why not?"
Duncan shrugged. "I dunno. They just don't."
Sometimes, when Owen was done working for the day, he didn't go straight back to the servants' quarters. Instead he'd eat a sandwich prepared beforehand and watch night fall over the sea—the darkness turning the water to wine, the stars bejeweling the dome of the sky, the moon sending down its gentle glow. He'd also write the occasional love poem about Wanda and stash it in a drawer on the boat. And some nights, he brought a pillow and blanket from his room and slept in one of the lower decks.
It was on one of those nights that he found himself awoken by a beautiful woman.
"I thought we gave you your own room," she said.
"W-Wanda?!" Owen sat bolt upright. He'd seen her in that solid green robe before, but hadn't recognized her this time without her headscarf. Owen now noticed a small mole near her eye, and it only added to her allure. Was she even allowed to let him see her this way? "What're you doing here?"
"I happened to be awake and looking out my window, when I saw a man skulking toward the yacht. I thought I'd check what was going on, make sure no one had come to steal it. That happens around here, you know."
"Well, look, you don't have to worry about that. I love this job. I just… I like sleeping like this. With the boat rocking under me. I've spent so much of my life at sea, I guess I'm kind of used to it."
Wanda nodded with understanding. "It's all right. No harm done. If you want to sleep here, you have my blessing."
Owen relaxed and bent forward. "Well, that's a relief. What would you have done if it was a robber? You'd be in a lot of danger."
"Don't forget, though." Wanda flicked her nictitating membrane. "I am a witch." She started roaming around the room. "You're doing a very nice job. Especially for just one person." She found the pitcher of iced tea Owen had brought in. "You mind?"
"Go ahead," Owen said. "I've worked on just about every part of a boat at some point in my life. I'm just glad this thing doesn't have a boiler room. Those are literally hell."
"And you've been doing that since you were my son's age." Wanda poured herself a glass and took a sip. "The fact that they work children that young so hard… If that were Duncan… The thought of him alone at sea…" The tea rippled as she shuddered.
"I wasn't alone. I had the rest of the crew. Not that they were all angels. In fact, sometimes they could hit pretty hard." Owen rubbed his jaw. "And that's when they were sober." He gazed up at the ceiling. "Actually, now that I think about it, a lot of them were just assholes." And that didn't include the smugglers and pirates he'd encountered.
"Do you think you'd ever go back to the fishing boats?"
"I don't know." Thinking about the wharf and the fishing nets and the better captains had made him nostalgic on some of the lonelier afternoons. But he hadn't been hit or threatened or cursed at once since he started working here. "You've been too kind to me. A lot of people back in town think the rich folks out here don't care about anybody."
"We haven't always been rich. We know what it's like to struggle." Wanda stepped over to the counter and picked up a bottle. "Sal's honey."
"Yeah, that's mine. I know it's not exactly your family's favorite. Say, just out of curiosity, is that stuff really enchanted?"
She covered her eyes with her membrane, giving them a solid iridescent shine like a beetle's shell. "Definitely. And it's natural."
"Are you sure? I've met a witch who looked at it before, but not everybody believes it."
"I'm sure. The aura's very distinct. This was not altered by a witch or an ascetic." She unscrewed the bottle, dropped a little bit of honey on her fingertip, and gave it a taste. "Wow, that is good. The magic definitely helps."
"That witch said she saw the same aura over at Silius Island from the boat on the way here. Her name was Luka."
"Oh yes, I met Luka! And I saw the same thing. Yes, if I had to guess, this honey came from that island. But I don't know how. To get enchanted honey, you'd need enchanted bees. And from what I know about Silius Island, those would be the least of your problems. I can't believe Sal managed to get his hands on it."
"Duncan told me you guys don't like him that much."
"It's true. We had a chance to meet him after we moved in, and he seemed standoffish in a way he wasn't with the other guests at the banquet."
"Why's that?"
"Part of it goes back to Uncle Verne. Either Sal ripped off Uncle Verne, or Uncle Verne ripped off Sal. I wouldn't put it past either of them, honestly." Wanda placed the bottle back on the countertop. "I think it also has to do with the fact that we used to be Effka."
Owen's fingers clawed into his sheets. "Effka?"
"You sound surprised."
"I—I mean, you're Orlynne. And you and everybody… You're so… nice."
"The Effka reputation strikes again. Some of the kindest people I've ever known have been Effka. But my family converted to the Orlynne."
"I didn't even know you could do that. I thought you were born that way."
"No, of course not. They're simply two different philosophies and styles of witchcraft. My uncle converted first, then my mother and father and I about ten years ago…" She turned her face toward the wall, as if to hide it from Owen. "When I had Duncan."
"You would have been about my age, wouldn't you?" Owen said. "I hope it's not rude to ask, but… who's Duncan's father?"
"I don't mind," Wanda said. "Duncan likes you, and if you're going to live with us, you might as well know who we are. Who he is." She turned back toward Owen and leaned against the counter. "His father was a boy from the local Effka lodge. The son of the priest, actually. We'd been friends since childhood, but as we got older, we also became closer, and we fell in love. Things happened, as they often do between young men and women. And I got pregnant. I'm sure you can imagine how shocked Mother and Father were. But I was lucky—they quickly forgave me and pledged to stand by me and support my child. The rest of the lodge, though…"
"They shunned you, didn't they?" Owen said. "I've always heard they were strict."
"Very much so, to the point where an unwed mother is almost unthinkable. And when I named the priest's own son, well, I might as well have spat in his face. He and his son denied it in no uncertain terms. Called me a liar. A whore. Even a blasphemer. Uncle Verne had joined the Orlynne by then, and Mother and Father had begun to consider going with him, so a rumor spread that I'd been seduced by one of the Orlynne, and accused the son in order to destroy the lodge."
"That's awful." And here Owen had spent whole days fantasizing about getting into bed with her himself.
"It was ridiculous," Wanda said. "Mother and Father were pillars of the community. Our family helped found that lodge! And we were still branded as traitors! Of course we couldn't stay. The Effka left us no choice. So we turned to the Orlynne shortly before Duncan was born. He's always been Orlynne."
"What happened to the boy? The father, I mean?"
"I don't know, and I don't care. We haven't had contact with any Effka since we left the lodge. We lost everything. Jobs. Friends. Even our ancestral home—it was confiscated by the lodge. All our family relics, heirlooms, and archives are in the lodge's hands. My thrice-great-grandfather's ceremonial sword. The family grimoire, with births and deaths going back four hundred years. My grandmother's quilt, passed down to my mother, and then to me. The toys I would have liked to share with my son, and now he's too old for. My brother's grave."
"I can't even imagine losing all that," Owen said, tracing his finger on the floor. "I don't remember ever having a real home. My mom died when I was young, and after that, it was just me and my dad, going from town to town, living off whatever he could get from card games. The longest I've ever lived anywhere was on a fishing boat, and then here. I had no idea. No wonder Sal doesn't like you—he probably thinks you're secretly still Effka."
"Oh no, that's not it at all. It would be so much simpler if it were mere bigotry. If anything, it's the other way around. He seems to be connected to a long-standing Effka family, one with ties to our old lodge. Effka don't readily associate with mundanes, but it's hardly forbidden."
"So he hates you because you're Orlynne?" And yet Owen had met Luka in Sal's Coffee House.
"Not even that. I'm not aware of him having any strong feelings about the Orlynne and Effka divide one way or the other. He just knows who the Hansetts are, and what we are—apostates." She picked up the bottle of honey again. "In fact… If he knows Effka… It might explain how he got this honey off of Silius Island."
"I thought even Effka didn't go there anymore."
"They no longer send anyone, but it's not out of the question for anyone to go by themselves, if only rarely. An unenchanted human couldn't leave the island alive, but an Effka…"
"That would explain it," Owen said. "You know, I once had this idea, right before you hired me, that if I could find where the honey came from, I could get some of my own and get rich competing with Sal."
"Hm. I'll bet you could… If you could get it." Wanda went quiet, still staring at the honey. Then, suddenly, she started chuckling. "If you could find an Effka to escort you…" It soon grew into full-on laughter.
"Okay, so it's a dumb idea. Sorry I suggested it."
"No, that's not why—haha. I was just thinking… Silius Island used to be a test of courage for the Effka. If you could return with one of the golden apples that grow in the valley deep within the island, you were eligible for a leadership position in the lodge council. Of course, other tests were devised eventually, and the requirement was dropped well over a hundred years ago. But imagine… Not only an Effka attempting the test… But a former Effka, one who left the lodge in disgrace… An Orlynne, even! Proving herself as an Effka!" She chuckled further. "Wouldn't that just show that priest a thing or two!" She turned her eyes to Owen. "You could get your honey… And perhaps I could get my family's home back. Our honor. Our pride…"
"That sounds…" Owen thought about it for a moment. "Actually, yeah. With a witch along for the ride…"
"And your sailing knowledge…"
"You really think that could work? I mean, you're still Orlynne."
"My parents managed to keep a few Effka grimoires. We still practice some of the old magic. You never completely leave your old self behind. Besides, they used to send girls as young as fourteen to Silius Island. I'm twenty-five." Wanda was still grinning, almost on the verge of cackling. "Let's not make any firm decisions just yet. We'll sleep on it. You keep working on the boat. Mother and Father are hoping to throw a party soon, and we'd like to take our guests sailing."
"Sure. Yes, Ma'am." Owen saluted her. "I'll start bright and early tomorrow morning as usual."
"Perfect." Wanda stepped toward the door. "You will of course have the good grace not to tell anyone what we discussed?"
"My lips are sealed."
"Let me know if you need anything."
She ran out. Owen felt the boat rock a little under her footsteps. To actually go to Silius Island… Could he actually go through with something like that? Sure, he'd have Wanda, but there was so much that could happen on an island like that.
On the other hand, if he did find the honey… If he did strike it rich… He could have any girl he wanted.
Even one like Wanda.
If you like what you see so far, you can purchase the complete edition at Amazon in both Kindle and paperback format!
