Love Charm

Every woman the Winfields have chosen to marry into the family gets her name written into the register at the family shrine. I waited seven years for Nat Winfield, and today his mother had decided it was my turn.

That day the whole family was happy for us, teasing me as they went:

Once your name's in the register, you're a Winfield.

"That boy Nat really is lucky. Hard to find someone this devoted!"

The elders called Nat over to write my name himself.

I stood there, full of hope, watching him. And on the register he wrote "Gertrude Pruitt." But my name is Ainsley Vaughn!

Everyone froze. Only his little assistant couldn't hold back her delighted little gasp. "Mr. Winfield, are you sure you didn't make a mistake?"

He didn't answer her. He raised his voice instead, explaining. "As everyone knows, Ainsley comes from the ancient lineage. They're skilled with the soul-bound love charm."

"I can't yet be certain whether what I feel for her is real, or the work of a love charm."

"So, Ainsley, once I'm certain, there's no harm in changing the register then."

My heart shattered on the spot. But my mother always said that a real heart won by a love charm is nothing but a reflection in water. Nothing you can hold.

So I have never once used a love charm on Nat Winfield.

The Winfield family had all gone silent. Only his little assistant couldn't wipe the smile off her face.

Just then my index finger twitched, faintly. It was my mother's signal, calling me home to marry!

"If it's real, I'll marry you eventually. There's no need to rush."

Seeing how crushed I looked, Nat turned to comfort me, the way he always did. But I'd lost count of how many times I'd heard that exact line over seven years.

At dinner he seated Gertrude beside him as if it were the most natural thing in the world, then didn't forget to text me an explanation:

"Gertrude's shy around new people, you understand. It's a girl's first time at someone else's house. She's not used to it yet."

"Like the first time I brought you home. Weren't you clinging to me every minute back then?"

"But Nat, does a fiance really have to be treated the same as everyone else?"

I typed it out without thinking. Then I thought about it and deleted it. I never sent it. It didn't matter anymore.

Aunt Brooklyn Winfield sat down beside me and sighed. "Ainsley, go home. Our people never marry out of the village."

"Marry out, and you'll be thrown into the pit of ten thousand insects, to feel the charm-insects burrow into your heart and devour it."

"Going into that pit is nine parts death, one part life."

"Years ago, when Nat's father asked to marry me, he went through the pit of ten thousand insects at my side."

"He was willing to stake his life to marry me. So I was willing to go through it with him."

"But that boy Nat isn't worth this from you. So go home!"

Every child in the mountain village, boy or girl, who marries out or brings an outsider in, is thrown into the pit of ten thousand insects.

Live, and you earn the chance to choose. Die, and you're buried forever in the soil where you were born.

I nodded quietly. Nat's mother is a charm-master of our ancient lineage. She can cast the charm, and she can break it. So, Nat, I won't keep playing along with this game you tell yourself is real.

All through that meal he wiped the little assistant's mouth, picked out dishes for her, fended off the drinks meant for her, tied back her hair. He was as attentive as ever. Only this time the one he was taking care of was someone else.

After the banquet ended, Nat finally remembered me. He pulled me into his arms and teased, "Jealous, are you? My lady, you've been through this yourself. You should understand the spot little Gerty's in."

"All right, all right, don't be angry. I'm going to Harbor City in a few days to close a deal. I'll bring you a gift, all right?"

Gertrude leaned in too, smiling as she comforted me. "Ainsley, don't be angry at Mr. Winfield over me. It's just a name, it means nothing. Even without your name in the register, you're still Mrs. Winfield."

Nat ruffled my hair. "See? A girl fresh out of school understands that much. How is it you still don't?"

"Mr. Winfield, when we're in Harbor City we could go out combing the tide flats. It's romantic, it's fun. And we can bring Ainsley back some colored shells."

"That's the kind of thing you young people like. I'm old now."

"Men only get more attractive with age. And you're not old anyway. Thirty is a man's prime."

Watching the two of them bicker, I suddenly realized how long it had been since Nat and I had shared a moment that warm.

After everyone had gone, I asked him, "You of all people know whether I ever put a charm on you. Why did you say what you said today?"

Nat answered without thinking. "I'm not one of your lineage people. How would I know?"

"But Aunt Brooklyn is a charm-master. If I'd cast a charm on you, do you think she wouldn't see it?"

"Of course my mother takes your side. You're all from the same people. Even if you had charmed me, she'd never tell me."

I wanted to say more, but my whole body, my heart included, was telling me to stop struggling. All I could manage, weakly, was:

"Nat, my mother is calling me home to get married. I'm leaving."

Nat slammed the brakes, tires screeching, and nearly rear-ended the car ahead.

"Stop it, Ainsley. You've already waited seven years. You can't wait a few more months?"

Looking at how worked up he was, I said flatly, "Nat, so you do know I waited seven years?"

"You always told me to wait. Wait until you'd built your business first, then we'd marry. Wait until you had solid footing in Rivergate. Wait until you were financially free... I waited through all of it."

"But Nat, even the warmest heart goes cold if you leave it waiting long enough."

He was quiet for a while. When he finally spoke again, that gentle mask had slipped back into place.

"So this is really about that empty name in the register. When I'm back from Harbor City, I'll change it myself. All right?"

"Ainsley, I love you. Don't say things that leave me unsettled right before a long trip, all right? Be good now."

When we were young, every time he made me angry I'd sulk and threaten to go home and marry someone else and never come back.

He naturally assumed I was throwing another childish tantrum. But I was twenty-nine now.

For the rest of the drive home I didn't say a word. I didn't want to leave him unsettled.

That night, half asleep, I was woken by the sound of Nat laughing.

The light in his study was still on. I wanted to remind him to sleep soon, since he had an early flight.

But then I heard him sigh.

"I haven't laughed like that in a long time. Talking with you young people really is the only thing that lets the pressure out."

"Then call me often, Mr. Winfield. I don't have much to do after work anyway. It gets pretty boring."

"Mm. I just don't want to be a bother."

"You're not a bother. I like talking things through with you too."

"Little Gerty, do you young people envy childhood-sweetheart romances?"

"Hard to say."

Nat's wistful voice carried out of the study and echoed through the silent house.

"All I've ever felt is the weight of it. Ainsley and I have known each other since we were kids. I confessed at eighteen, and we've been together ever since. All these years I've carried this invisible pressure."

"I didn't want to marry so early. But a woman only has so many years of youth, and she'd already waited seven years for me. Honestly, all this pressure to marry has been suffocating me."

My fingers curled in hard, nails pressing shallow crescents into my palm. So all this time I had never been the harbor Nat wanted to reach when he needed to breathe. I was the mountain crushing him.

When I woke the next morning, Nat was already gone. All he'd left was a note on the nightstand.

"Ains, remember to eat on time. Wait for me to come back."

It was a habit he'd kept for all seven years we'd been together.

But those small, offhand bits of warmth had become just another part of his job now.

Not a trace of feeling left in them.

I spent the whole morning packing. There wasn't much. Anything I didn't need I'd already hauled to the dumpster.

The one thing I had to bring back was the wedding dress I'd never once opened.

My mother had stitched it for me, stitch by stitch. She said she hoped to see the day I finally wore it.

I'd hoped for that day toowearing that dress, marrying Nat, then bringing him home for my mother to see.

But when I told Nat, he didn't like the idea. "Everyone wears a white gown now. It'd look strange, you in that thing."

Before I left, I changed into the traditional dress of my people. I was saying goodbye to Nat's city for good, going back to the place that was mine.

Then Aunt Brooklyn called out of nowhere. "Ainsley, let me come back with you this time. It's been years since I visited the village myself."

I said yes, and we agreed to meet at the station.

Going home didn't feel the way it used to. Before, I always dreaded that once I went back my mother would shut me away and I'd never see Nat again.

This time my heart held nothing but the quiet of home.

Even the scenery out the window no longer held me.

My phone started buzzing, message after message. I opened it. Nat.

He'd sent a whole string of photos. He'd reached Harbor City, and he'd gone down to the beach.

He sent me a picture of colored seashells. "Ainsley, Gertrude picked these out just for you. Do you like them?"

I didn't answer. I tapped into his feed instead.

Sure enough, he'd posted. A grid of nine photos in soft blue, and in every one, the backs of him and Gertrude combing the shore.

The center image was a necklace strung with colored shells.

And words scrawled in the sand: "The colored shells belong to Nat. The 'rainbow' belongs to Nat too."

I stayed on his feed a long time. Long enough for him to post againa video this time.

Two shadows in it, a man and a woman, the girl riding on the man's back.

The song over it: "Just want to be a fool for love, just want a home to settle down in."

It was one of those couple videos going viral lately.

Everyone in the comments assumed the girl on his back was me.

"Mr. Winfield, you take your wife along on business trips?"

"Nat, still this crazy about your wife after all these years!"

"Ha, so Mr. Winfield's got a soft side after all. Can't wait for the wedding."

Nat didn't reply to a single one. He let them all believe the woman on his back was me.

Right then, another message came through.

A screenshot of his own post. "Reporting in to the wifeGertrude and I made a little video."

"Ains, don't be jealous, okay? Gertrude's just got a kid's temperament.

I filmed it with her for fun. She says having this video will help her turn down some of the guys chasing her."

"She begged me for ages. I couldn't bring myself to say no, so I agreed. If it bothers you, I'll delete it in a bit."

My eyes stung and my chest sat heavy, but I still wrote back:

"It's fine. Have fun, you two!"

Nat: "Our Ains really has grown up. Not the little girl who used to get jealous over every little thing!"

Nat. There won't be any of that again.

Thirteen hours by car, and I was back on home ground.

The one who came to the station to meet us caught me off guard. It was the man my mother had chosen for me to marry.

His name was Vivian Mann. He was a charm-master too.

After we exchanged greetings, we set off into the mountains.

Our people are among the few whose line still keeps the old rites of the ancient forebears intact.

The signal in the mountains was poor, so all we could do was chat the whole way back.

Vivian was easy to talk to, warm and open. Somewhere along the way, he said he'd seen me once when I was a child.

The year I turned twelve, I was chosen as the sacred maiden. To refuse it, I burned the blood pact in front of everyone and knocked over the covenant potion that had been passed down for generations.

Afterward I was shut away for a month, and the elder ordered that no one was to bring me food.

But every day a pair of small, grubby hands still carried food to me and slipped it through in secret.

I was a little startled. "So that child was you! But after I came out, why did I never see you again?"

"I went down the mountain with my parents to study, and that studying stretched on for more than twenty years. But I always knew I would come back here."

"My roots are here. My people need me. So I came home."

As he said it, he turned his head and smiled at me. The sunlight fell across his face, and he looked so good.

The moment we got home, my mother pulled Aunt Brooklyn aside to talk over old times. The two of them had grown up together, close as sisters.

My mother had chosen to stay in the village. Aunt Brooklyn had chosen the man she loved.

That parting had lasted half a lifetime.

There hadn't been a wedding in the village for a very long time. The quiet, sleepy place came alive as everyone prepared for ours.

The elder cast our fortune himself, and the reading was the most auspicious of all.

Vivian and I exchanged betrothal tokens the way custom demanded.

The token I gave him was a sash I'd worked on through the night. I'd had a sash before, but I'd given that one to Nat.

I never once saw Nat wear it. He always said my people's things were strange, and he didn't want to be looked at like some oddity.

But the moment Vivian received my sash, he couldn't wait to tie it on.

Then, carefully, he took a small crescent-shaped beast fang from his pocket and handed it to me.

Every year my people hold a hunting contest, and this fang

was his prize the year he was thirteen, when he took down a full-grown wild boar on his own.

My mother always said that trading true heart for true heart makes the finest match of all.

Looking at the happy smile on Vivian's face, it finally hit me.

The signal in the village was poor, so after coming back I'd barely touched my phone.

When I finally picked it up, I found that Nat had left a whole string of missed calls.

I called back, and Nat said angrily, "Didn't you say you weren't upset?"

"We were fine just a moment ago, and now you're sulking and not answering the phone?"

"Is something wrong?"

"That sash you gave me. Gertrude took a liking to it. She wants to borrow it for some photos."

"Oh. So did you lend it to her?"

"I did, but I thought it was better to tell you. I remember you had a hard time embroidering it back then."

A hard time? That was the first sash I ever embroidered. Countless nights without sleep, the needle jabbing my fingers raw.

Climbing the mountain to gather all the herbs for dyeing the cloth, breaking my leg in the fall.

Weaving strands of my own hair into the body of it to carry my heart, so it would bind us together and keep him free of sickness and harm.

I was quiet for a moment, then said, "Nat, if there ever comes a day you don't need that sash anymore, give it back to me."

"What nonsense are you talking? I'm only lending it to her."

"Ains, let's do a video call so I can see you. I suddenly find myself missing you a little."

I agreed, and I meant to invite him to the wedding too.

The instant the video connected, fireworks burst behind me, and Nat asked, "Where are you? Why is everything behind you so festive?"