70. Seventy - Matchthistle
Seventy - Matchthistle
Ana
My mother’s grip on my arm might leave a bruise behind. But she is so happy, I can’t find it in me to make her let go. The ring is safely tucked away in my pocket so we don’t have to have that fight right now.
The statue is in place. In the broad light of day, I can at least say the craftsmanship is exquisite.
I don’t want to know how much she paid to place it here, in the center of everything.
“I love it!” She sighs and drops her head to my shoulder as she turns me away. I’ve given her the whole day because I have neglected her recently.
We’ve gone berry picking and had lunch at the tavern—no one wanted to try their luck against her—but now, she yawns and I am tired too.
We wander home and her good mood boosts my own, despite our many struggles of late.
“Will you get the tea together,” she asks. “I’ll get the fire going, and we can spend a lazy afternoon, like we used to.
It sounds nice, honestly.
She goes to the wood box and I go to the kitchen.
Filling up the kettle, I set it on the counter and open the cupboard to retrieve the canister of tea.
It’s lighter than I expected.
“It sounds like we’re going to need more—”
Lifting the tea free, I freeze in place.
I can’t take my eyes off the jar that was hidden behind it.
“What is this?” I ask, even though I already know the answer.
The jar is full of what looks like saffron mixed with beetle husks... but they’re attached—a single flower pod—and they’re incredibly hard to find.
I should know.
My mother comes in and tries to take the jar, but I snatch it away before she can.
Rolling her eyes, she waves my concern away. “That’s nothing, dear.”
“Matchthistle isn’t nothing. ” I throw open all of the cupboards, scouring them and leaving a mess in my wake.
She follows after me, insisting I am overreacting, but I find one more jar in her nightstand, and another, smaller container in her bag.
I know I’ve found them all when she starts to fight to take them back.
“There’s a vampire living here now, you can’t blame me for wanting to protect myself.”
“Wanting to…” Matchthistle isn’t used for protection. Ever. “This could kill him.”
“If I need to use it, he’ll deserve to die.”
My whole being stills. The calm surety with which she said that…
She believes it completely.
“I am getting rid of this.” I say, bundling it into one of the string bags we hang by the door.
“I’ll just get more.”
“You will not.”
She stands up straighter, her jaw set in a scowl. “You forget your place. I am your mother. You do not tell me what to do.”
“I’m marrying them.”
Her face blanks, like her mind has been wiped clean. “No.”
“Yes.”
“How could you do this to me?” She’s so quiet, I almost don’t hear it.
“Children grow up. They move out and move on. I’m not doing this to you.”
She reaches for the chair, her hand patting at the air until she finds it. Her eyes are open, staring at me, but I don’t think she sees anything.
“I love them, mother.”
“Love.” She chokes the word out bitterly. “Love is a lie they tell you to make you comply. Love is a trap and a burden.” Eyes shifting searching for something that isn’t there, she turns, going back to her room.
She pulls the door closed and I hear it lock from the other side.
I take the half heart from my pocket, setting it on the table and exhaling deeply.
I can hear her weeping and I almost go to her, but when I take a step, the jars clack together and the sound sickens me.
I hold Dorrian’s hand tightly as I pull it from my pocket.
There’s no one waiting to greet me. They all knew of my earlier plans. And I’m not surprised when my arrival in the kitchen causes a stir.
“I need a large bowl you won’t mind losing, a bottle of vinegar, and sand.
They look back and forth between each other and I hold up the bag and its jars. “I have matchthistle I need to get rid of.”
There’s a collective gasp and they hurry to get me what I’ve asked for.
They all know how dangerous what I hold is.
Touching only what they hand me, and keeping a fair distance, I set the bowl on the ground and dump the jar’s contents into it. Then I drown the vile things in the vinegar. As soon as the liquid touches the red tendrils, it catches flame. Smoke pools low and I only let it burn for a few seconds before I turn the sand over onto it.
The flames are low, but they’re so hot, the sand turns to glass as it smothers them, sealing the matchthistle inside.
When it’s done, we all stare at the lump of glass and the misshapen bowl it’s melted to.
“What do we do now?” Deanna asks.
“We put it in the lake. We drown it.”
“Is it safe to touch?” Blicks asks.
“Yes, but I would still use gloves.
“I will take it straight away.”
“Thank you.”
He nods. “We have night fairy in the cellar.”
I pull the bottle from my pocket. “This will be enough for now.”
Looking at Yenna, I say, “will you come help me?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Bring gloves.”
She opens all the doors, so I don’t have to touch anything. I don’t have to ask her to draw the bath when we get to my room, but I do tell her, “As hot as you can make it, please.”
She hesitates, but nods. “I’ll make it as hot as I can stand. We don’t want to boil off your skin.”
“You’re back early.” Viggo starts across the room and I hold up my hand.
“Do not come near me. I am not safe.”
His brow creases and he takes a step back. “What’s going on?”
“My mother—my mother —was stockpiling matchthistle.”
He shifts uneasily as I get my dress off, turning my ring and Dorrian’s hand out of my pocket, onto the table before handing it to Yenna. “Burn that.”
“Are you sure?” She looks at the fabric and I hate that it has to be done, too.
“Yes. I don’t trust it.”
She hurries out while I take the lid off my bottle of night fairy and dump the dark blue powder in.
Stirring it with my hand, I climb in, wincing at how hot Yenna was able to get the water.
The hotter the water, the better night fairy works.
Once I’ve submerged myself, Viggo comes to sit beside me. “Are you sure you’re not being overly cautious?”
“I refuse to risk burning you, even slightly.”
“Do you have to stay in the water until you turn blue too?”
If I wasn’t so mad, I might laugh. I shake my head instead.
“It appears that we all have a family member who is against us,” he says.
I look at Viggo. “Kirra wasn’t happy?”
“No.”
“She loves you.”
“I know.”
Penny comes to us before I say anything else. “Blicks told me what happened. Are you alright?”
“Yes, but I need to go find Mina and tell her not to go home…” I sag back into the water. “Can she stay here tonight?”
“Of course.” Penny hands me a towel. “Do you know where she is?”
“She’ll either be at the tea shop or the inn.”
“I’ll go fetch her.”