Chapter 28 #2
“It is not for me to know,” Iris says. “But some things are worth letting go of. Sometimes one has to ease the ache in their soul before things can feel all right again.”
I let her words sink in, let myself digest them like a tonic that is hard to swallow. I don’t know how to let go of any of it.
The door creaks open, and Toren’s tall form crowds the doorway. “I apologise if I am interrupting.”
“Not at all.” Iris smiles at him. “Come in.”
“I just came to see if Everleigh was ready to begin her lessons. The women have finished their work for the day.”
I stand and brush off my skirts. “Of course.” I nod before directing my gaze back at Iris. “If you need anything—”
“I’ll send August,” she says. “Thank you again.” I leave her with a smile as I pick up my medicine box and follow Toren out the door. Breakfast can wait.
“She is still doing all right?” he asks.
“She’s had a remarkable reaction to the treatment,” I say. “The burns will still take time to heal, but things are looking better already.”
He smiles in response as he leads me towards the cave entrance. That little gleam in his eye is all it takes for me to comprehend how much his mother means to him. It makes me wonder if Evander doesn’t feel the same. He hasn’t been to check on Iris even once.
“This is our workroom of sorts,” Toren says, leading me into the cave where a long table is set up with benches filled on either side. It seems almost every woman who calls these hidden caves home is sitting around the table.
“Thank you,” I say, hoping he can see the gratitude in my gaze. He simply nods before leaving me alone with the table full of women staring at me expectantly. My stomach churns with anticipation, but for once, it is the good kind.
“All right, ladies,” I say, placing my medicine box on the wooden table. “Shall we?”
I spend the next few hours teaching the women about basic medicines.
I tell them about ground ivy and willow bark.
I teach them about various teas they can use for fevers and infections.
I try to teach them as much as I can that could be relevant to them, but not so much that they won’t remember any of it in the morning.
At some point I felt a watchful presence, and when I chanced a look behind me, the old apothecary leaned against the wall of the cave. She stayed there for hours watching me as nerves tickled the back of my neck.
“I think that is enough for the day,” I say as the light outside the cave begins to fade. “What do you think?” The women around me murmur, but their faces are alight as they speak to each other, their minds filled with new knowledge.
I find myself smiling. They are excited, intrigued by what I could teach them. These women will hopefully go on to help people who otherwise might have suffered. They can make a difference. I have made a difference.
They filter out of the cave, many of them thanking me as they go, but one person stays.
“You know a lot, girl.” The older woman’s voice echoes through the now empty space. Uneasiness trickles down my spine. This could be the woman I’ve been looking for, or it could be someone else entirely. Even if it is her, I’m uncertain she will help me.
I turn to face her. “It was only the basics,” I say. “I feel as though there are so many things I have yet to learn myself.”
A mischievous smirk creases the corners of her eyes. “You never stop learning, even when you are decrepit.” She is far from decrepit, but I don’t attempt to disagree as she finds a spot on the bench next to me.
Her grey eyes are assessing as she looks at me. I blanch under her gaze, but I don’t look away, not even as her eyes narrow. “You know, you remind me of someone. You have a look in your eyes that I have seen before.”
“I believe you might have known my brother,” I say. “He used to speak of an apothecary by the border who provided him with supplies before he enlisted me to take over the job.”
“The boy,” she says, her voice airy like she is remembering a dream. “He had the same flicker of determination in his eyes that you do—it was impossible to ignore.”
“So it was you?” I breathe, my mind barely able to keep up with the fact that the exact person I was looking for ended up right here. This very place we came to by chance. And a little force. “You knew my brother? Finnick?”
“Finnick.” She smiles. “Indeed, I knew him.”
“He never told me your name, but he spoke of you often,” I ramble.
“Imogen,” she says, her curious eyes staring into mine.
“I came looking for you.” I shake my head in wonder. “I mean…I was on my way to find you when we were brought here.”
Her closed-lip smile spreads across her face. “It seems the gods favour you, my dear.” I nearly draw back at her mention of the gods. I cannot help but wonder if there is some kind of external force that pushed her in our direction. “I only found my way here because August saved me.”
“Saved you?”
“Perhaps I was lucky there were only two of them,” she mutters.
“The shields have been doing more and more patrols, finding their way deeper into Tarragon and keeping a close eye on the border. But that means they must spread themselves thinner than usual.” I think of the way I ran through the forest that night, my heart racing in my chest as I slipped around trees to avoid capture—to avoid death.
“I sent one of them to the ground with my pestle to his temple, but the other slipped his arms around me.” I find myself captivated by her story, her voice drawing me in. “It was only because of August slicing his sword across the back of the shield’s ankles that had him letting go of me.”
My brows raise as I remember how unsure August looked with a blade in his grip. But perhaps he is more competent than I gave him credit for.
“He has been trying to convince me to come here for months,” she adds. “But I didn’t want to run. I didn’t want to hide.” Her defeat sits heavy in the set of her shoulders. “Though after that…I felt I had little choice.”
“Sometimes the right choice isn’t always the one we would have chosen,” I say.
Her inquisitive gaze meets mine, her lips pursing. “You said you were looking for me…why?”
The vials flash in my mind, but I start out with the real reason I made this trip. “The shields back home raided my shop,” I say. “They tore it apart, and I was hoping you had enough for me to restock, at least partially.” I shrug. “I have the silver.”
Imogen’s eyes almost deepen in colour as sympathy crosses her features. “August has set me up in a hut on the other side of the courtyard.” She points across the way. “If you write me a list, I can see what I can spare, and you can collect it after supper.”
“Thank you.” I nod before pulling a piece of parchment and a small quill out of the corner of the medicine box. Hazel thought of everything.
As I write out the list, my mind wanders to the other questions I could ask her. I can barely open my mouth, afraid of what she might say, though she might be one of the few people who might know something about the vials. I cannot let the opportunity to know more slip through my grasp.
“I do have another question for you,” I murmur, my eyes not leaving where I am scribbling ingredients across the parchment. “If it’s not a bother.”
“Go on.”
My heartbeat is like a drum in my ears. Slow and steady, but apprehensive. “Do you know of any tonics or…elixirs of a sort that would be a dark blue hue?” I ask before adding, “Something that might almost shimmer in the moonlight?”
The world around me goes quiet, my senses tuned in to nothing but the sound of her voice, yet she doesn’t utter a word.
I look up, my quill falling still as I see her frozen next to me, her nostrils flared and her eyes wide. “Where did you find them?”
Them. “I—”
“Stop.” She holds her hand up. “Do not tell me—or anyone—that information.”
I find it hard to swallow as her brows pull together. She leans into me and whispers, “You have no idea what they are, do you?”
Her tone sends my pulse racing, and my lungs struggle to keep up. “No, I don’t.”
She lets out a sharp breath and looks away for a moment before she swings her attention back to me. “Wherever you found those vials, put them back.”
“Put them back?” My eyebrows knit together. “Why? What are they—”
“They are something you should never have found.” She brings her fingers to her lips as she shakes her head. “Put them back and pretend you never saw them.”
She’s shaken, as if the knowledge of the vials alone has sent her mind to faraway places.
“You should never have come here,” she mutters before checking our surroundings.
I nearly rear back. “I mean no harm,” I say. “Imogen, please.”
She stands, shaking her head as she looks down at me. “Nowhere is safe for you if anyone finds out what you have. Do yourself a favour and destroy them.”
And then she takes the piece of parchment from me and rushes out of the cave.