Fisher king. She couldn’t think of him as Sir Ross—or as Lord Tintagos. That would make him too real, her task more pressing. Not yet. He headed east then north, to her relief, away from Igdrasil—away from Avalos. She was about to make the wrong decision, and she didn’t want Kaelyn or Zoelyn to push her to the right one. Everything Igraine knew to be true screamed to her that it was imperative she wyrd away Sir Ross’s memory of her entrance into the baron’s chamber in the form of a pelican. He couldn’t be allowed to retain knowledge of her power of transmogrification. It wasn’t the sort of magic mundane humans could tolerate in another human. That kind of knowledge sparked the fear that gave rise to words like witch and demon and put her to the fire!Igraine knew exactly what Zoelyn would say—and Kaelyn would agree.People like a wyrding woman to cure fevers and make crops grow more robust. In times of sorrow they want the wyrds’ prayers to Brother Sun and Sister Moon, and generally they enjoy the harmless naughtiness of buying a love potion they only partly disbelieve in.
