Chapter 22
Chapter
Twenty-Two
Sweeping has never been my favourite thing to do. In fact, I find it quite tiresome, really, and somehow you can never quite get everything, always finding specks of dirt left in a spot you’ve gone over dozens of times.
But it is exponentially worse now that I'm sweeping up glass and what is left of any of my dry mixtures rather than simply dirt and dust from my shoes.
“I still can’t believe they could do this,” Cedar says, shaking her head as she tries to put the ripped pages of my notepad back together. “They can’t keep just ransacking people’s businesses or soon there will be nothing left.”
I shrug, resigned to the truth that the shields may act as they please. There is no one here who can tell them not to. “I think that is precisely the point.”
They’re determined to weaken the threads that are holding this town together. First, rattling Thorley, and now tearing apart my shop. They want to cut me down. It’s a pattern, one that might not be obvious to an ignorant eye, but it’s there.
They wanted to scare me, to show me that they can tear me down on a mere whim. And they did—they scared me. But they won’t tear me down, not that easily.
“I’m going away for a couple of days,” I say.
Cedar whips her gaze in my direction, her eyes laced with confusion. I can’t blame her. This might be the worst time to leave, to not know what is going on here, but I have to go. It might look to those shields like I am running, like I am indeed crumbling.
But in truth, I’m rebuilding.
“Where?” Cedar asks.
“There’s an apothecary north of Lenthara, right on the border of Tarragon and Rynwood. She’s someone Finnick knew, and perhaps one of the most knowledgeable apothecaries in the entire province. She will have medicine, things that I can’t forage for this time of year.”
Her chest falls on a heavy exhale. “You have no idea what it’s going to be like out there. What if she’s not even there?”
I roll my lips into my mouth. “There is only one way to find out.” Moreover, considering what Finnick revealed about her, I find it unlikely she would be one to flee.
“It could be dangerous, Everleigh.” Her skin dips between her furrowed brows.
“I know, but I can only do my job if I have something to work with. They took that from me, but that doesn’t mean I can't get it back.”
An invisible force picks at the corner of her mouth as her eyes search mine. “I swear to the gods, you are fiercer than you look, aren’t you?”
The ghost of a smile finds it way to my lips. “I need you to look after something for me.” I reach into my pockets and carefully pull out the vials. Cedar’s expression turns when she sees them. “I know you’ll keep them somewhere safe while I'm gone.”
She nods as I hold them out to her. “I will. I give you my word.” I nod in return, knowing Cedar’s word is like an oath. “You don’t think this knowledgeable apothecary might know something about them, do you?”
“She might, but I don't want to risk losing them.” They're all I’ve got left. “I will inquire with her anyhow, see what she knows, if anything at all.”
“See if who knows anything about what?” Silas appears in the doorway, and as I whirl around I see his eyes wandering over the empty space. “Oh, Everleigh.”
Cedar swiftly hides her hands behind her back, the vials encased in her grasp.
For a second I wonder if Silas caught a glimpse of the mysterious blue liquid, but his sorry gaze is caught on me.
I haven’t seen him since the day he escaped my cabin after our kiss.
I don’t have the slightest idea of where we stand.
“I’ll be going,” Cedar says, her light eyes assuring me with one look of everything she’s not saying aloud. “Come and find me when you get back.”
I nod. “I will.” And then she slips out the doorway.
Silas’s gaze follows her out the still-crooked door before he turns back to face me. “Get back from where?”
I reach into the corner cupboard searching for my satchel. “I am going away for a few days.”
He leans his palms on the worktable. “You’re leaving?”
I catch sight of it tucked away in the dark, and I have to reach until my shoulder is inside the cupboard before my fingers close around the strap. “I’ll be back,” I say. “I just need to get some things to get me back on my feet so I can get back to work as soon as I return.”
“You’re going to continue working? Even after this?”
I stand up, placing the satchel on the table between us. “Yes, Silas.”
His face contorts into a frown. “Shouldn’t you take this as some kind of warning?” he says. “Because that’s exactly what this is, Evie.”
“I am well aware of that, Silas, thank you.” Frustration seeps into my words. He disappears for days, and now he suddenly decides to show up and patronise me without a word of explanation.
I shove the pouch of silver I keep under the floorboards of my cabin into the bag, followed by two of my mother’s journals that I'm hoping Silas mistakes for the healer’s journals I told him about.
“Then why aren’t you heeding it?” When I don't respond, he reaches over the table. “Everleigh.”
I sigh as I meet his gaze. “What do you think would happen if I heeded it, Silas? What would Hazel and Thorley do when they ran out of supplies? What will anyone in this town do if they fall ill, if they get injured? How do you think that would end? Because all I see is tragedy, and the gods know we don’t need any more of that. ”
He takes hold of my hand, rounds the table and pulls me into him. “Okay,” he whispers, cradling my head against his chest. “I understand. I’m sorry.”
At those words, my arms wrap around his middle. I’ve needed this. Things between Silas and me…they’ve changed. I’m not entirely sure what we are to each other anymore, but I will always find comfort in the familiarity of his embrace.
“You’re always looking out for everyone else,” he whispers over my head. “When are you going to let someone take care of you?”
My heart squeezes tight in my chest, and my lungs beg for air as I hold my breath.
“I want to let you,” I whisper into his chest. I want him to be the person I can tell everything to, but I can’t. He just holds me closer.
“Be careful,” he says after a long moment of silence. “Please.”
I nod against his chest. “I will.”
After Silas left, I decided to hide the rest of my mother’s journals under the loose floorboard in my bedchamber. I don’t exactly trust the king's guards not to pay my place another visit, especially if they find out I left town.
I replace the floorboard and raid my kitchen for anything I can take with me. I find the jerky I bought in town moons ago now, and a half-eaten stale loaf of bread. It’ll have to do.
I secure the satchel to Merlin’s saddle, fastening everything tight before I head through the forest in the direction of Hazel’s place.
I don’t doubt Cedar would tell her where I’ve gone, but I want to see her before I go.
Merlin snorts as we weave through the trees, and I wonder once more why the shields cut him free. I didn’t expect them to kill the creature, but maybe to take him with them, to use him themselves. But they didn’t.
Perhaps they thought he would run wild, get far away from here, but he was there, waiting.
The rest of the ride to Hazel’s is a blur, my mind lost in thoughts that tumble through my head again and again.
Dark images of horses rushing by. The shield’s taunting voice bouncing off the trees.
I can’t stop replaying that night, can’t stop thinking about how close I was to being caught, but I don't entirely know what for.
Why were they chasing me? And what were they going to do if they did in fact catch me?
You will never have to find out.
Rylan’s words echo in my mind as I slide off of Merlin’s back and drop his lead rope in the grass. I can’t help but wonder where Rylan disappeared to last night after he saved me…again.
“I wasn’t sure if I would see you before you left.” Hazel’s voice floats towards me on a soft breeze as she steps out the front door.
“Cedar passed through?”
“Yes,” she says. “And she reminded me of something. Come in.”
I follow her through the front door and into the kitchen, where a big wooden box of sorts sits atop her table.
“What is that?” I ask. It has buckles holding it together and a handle on top, though it almost looks as if it opens sideways.
“It’s for you.”
My gaze cuts to her as she casually drops into a chair. “What do you mean it’s for me?”
“Open it.” She smirks as she leans back. My eyes narrow even as a smile slides across my face at her anticipation.
I carefully unlatch the buckles and slowly slide the two pieces apart, almost like two doors swinging open to reveal small shelves lined with small bottles and jars adorned with various labels.
Lavender oil. Calendula. Lemon balm. Alcohol. There is bottle after bottle of ingredients and medicines, all of them things that I’ve delivered to Hazel before. Things I would use on a regular basis.
“It’s a medical box,” Hazel says. “So you can have a few things for your trip, just in case you come across the need for them.”
I lift my gaze to see a small smile lighting up her brown eyes. “Hazel,” I breathe. “This is incredible.”
“I traded for it years ago when I was travelling through Sunridge. Another healer sold it to me when I saw it at her practice.”
“It’s beautiful,” I say, taking in the perfect woodwork. “I can’t possibly accept this.”
“You can, and you will.” She raises her brows, leaving no room for argument.
“I never paid attention to it before today,” she adds.
“But there’s a signature carved into the side there.
” She leans forward, pointing at a spot on the back of the box.
I spin it around to see A. Greene inscribed in the wood.
My heart nearly stops. A. Greene. As in Ambrose Greene? It’s nearly impossible.
“My father made this?” I ask as I run my hands over his signature.
Hazel nods. “Somehow it got all the way from here up to north Sunridge before I brought it back here when I decided to stay.”
I look at the box with more attention to the details. My father’s precision was unmatched. It still is, and I can see it so clearly in this.
I swipe at the tear that begins to slide down my cheek before reaching for Hazel’s hand. “Thank you.”
She squeezes my hand. “Travel safe, will you?”
I nod, another tear falling from my eyelashes. “I’ll be taking the forest road, staying as out of sight as possible.”
She smiles softly. “Good.”
“And if there comes a time when someone finds me,” I say, closing the case and holding it by the small handle, “Merlin loves to run.”