Chapter 32
Chapter
Thirty-Two
“Thorley?” I call out as I step through the doors to her practice. “Thorley, are you here?”
Merlin snorts from where I left him tied up outside, as if he is displeased at being left alone. That horse has an unhealthy attachment to me.
I look around the muddled kitchen, taking note of the oil lamp that is broken in the corner, and the flour pressed into every crevice—between floorboards, and in the corners of the room, as if while sweeping it up the tiny particles found a home in the tight spaces.
Scuffed footsteps echo down the small hall. “Where else would I be?” she says. But relief doesn’t find me as I see her small frame. She looks frailer than the last time I saw her, her eyes wearier than ever.
“Are you all right?” I ask, and she plonks down into her chair, the wood creaking as she settles in, but she couldn’t look further from comfortable.
“I’m fine, dear.” But I can see the way she rubs her eyes, the way her shoulders slump even further than usual.
I think back to Hazel telling us that the mayor came here, and I wonder if he made any other visits to her. If they’re still threatening her or her practice.
Thorley must see my mind wandering behind my eyes. “Can I help you with something, darling?”
I feel guilty for being here now, for having come to her for answers. But if anyone knows what my brother knew, it could be Thorley. Maybe she told him about the secret room, just like she told me. Though I’m not entirely sure that was intentional.
“That room that you told me about the last time I was here,” I say, and she nods, her eyes narrowing as if she is trying to recall the conversation. “The one where my mother kept all of her things?”
“Mmm,” she replies, nodding tightly.
“Do you know if Finnick knew about it? Had he ever been in there?”
“Oh,” she scoffs, waving a hand in front of her before she presses against the table to stand up. “That boy was always poking his nose in places it didn’t belong. Always getting into things he had no business being a part of.”
I stand, following her as she wanders over to the kitchen counter, mindlessly organising her assortment of jars. “What do you mean? Things like what?”
Thorley simply shakes her head. “He didn’t need to know,” she mutters. “She wasn’t ready to tell him.”
I can only assume she means my mother. “Tell him what?”
Thorley screws her eyes shut, shaking her head as if she is trying to clear it, to shoo away the fog that engulfs her mind sometimes.
“Tell him what, Thorley?” I need to know, need to understand how he knew of that book in the library, unless he knew about all of it.
I cannot stop the way my mind flutters back and forth, memories flashing in my mind, like the conversation with Rylan about Finnick always travelling so far to see Imogen. He asked me if I wondered whether there was any other reason he would go so far…maybe this is why.
“Hm?” She looks over to me, confusion settling into her big brown eyes. “What, dear?”
My eyes fall closed as I let out a defeated breath, knowing this is hopeless. Thorley’s mind is tired, and I don’t want to push her. “Nothing,” I say, flashing her a smile. “Have you got any patients this afternoon?”
She shakes her head. “No.”
I rub a hand between her shoulder blades, guiding her towards the hall. “You should get some rest before anyone shows up. Let your mind rest.”
She smiles at me, though her brow is furrowed. She holds a hand up to my cheek. “You’re always looking out for me,” she says. “Thank you, Esther.”
My breath halts in my lungs. I want to cry—I want to scream in frustration—but I just nod, letting go of her as she wanders down the hall. I close my eyes as my lip quivers, locking my knees so I don’t collapse on them.
I always thought there was no one I knew more than my family, no one I could trust more, no one who could ever be as close to me as they were. But with every passing day, the assured feeling I used to have feels further and further away, and I wonder if I even knew them at all.
My brother wasn’t nosy. He was sweet as sugar on a stick and had the best manners of all of us. Yet, Thorley makes it seem as if he knew something about all of this, that he forced my mother to tell him. That maybe he was involved in all of this too.
My mind whirls as I step out into the long grass. My brother knew something about this—about whatever secrets my mother was keeping. Did he know about the god’s blood? Did he know about Arizaya?
There is only one thing that I do know, and that is that my brother does not lie in the dirt beneath the stone we erected for him. No, he is out there somewhere, and I could bet my life on the fact that wherever he has gone, it has something to do with this.
I pull on the leather reins in my grasp, slowing Merlin to a stop in front of the stables.
I have to talk to Silas. He was even closer to my brother than I was.
He needs to know that Finnick is alive. I’ve always believed it, but for whatever reason, what little Thorley told me has solidified that feeling in my chest.
“Silas?” I yell out as soon as my feet hit the ground. I ignore any odd feelings about our relationship as I stride towards the rickety building.
He appears in an instant, his eyes narrowed in confusion as he sees me.
He doesn’t ask about my trip, or when I got back. He doesn’t even smile when he sees me.
I shake it off as I keep walking, there are more important things right now. “Hey, I need to talk to you,” I say, but he just grabs me by my shoulders, steers me to the outside of the building, and places me up against the rough wall right next to the water trough.
“What in the gods’ names are you doing?” I ask.
“Let’s talk out here,” he says. “You know, breathe in the fresh air.” He lets go of me, placing his hands on his hips in what looks like a forced relaxed state.
“Okay,” I say, ignoring his odd behaviour. “Look, I—” I look up to the sky for help, wondering where to start. I decide to begin with the most pressing matter. “I think Finnick is alive.”
He tips his head, and I can see what he’s about to say before he even parts his lips. “Evie…”
“Don’t—there’s more to it than just a feeling, okay. He—”
Silas places his hands on my shoulders once more. “You need to let this go.” His words feel like a punch straight to my stomach, knocking the breath right out of me.
My face scrunches up. “Let it go?” I ask, shrugging his hands off me. “Let it go? Silas, he is my brother. I thought he was your brother too, and you want me to just move on when there is no proof of anything? No death certificate, no body? He is alive, Silas. I know it. I can feel it in my bones.”
“I know you want him to be alive, Evie. I do too, but we need to accept that he’s never coming back, no matter if he is seven feet deep or not.”
I rear back, my head hitting the wall behind me, but I don’t even notice it, not after the harsh words that just fell from his mouth.
“Unless you found something on this romantic getaway of yours, I don’t know how else to make you understand that he is gone. You’re only hurting yourself by holding out hope.”
I just scoff, looking anywhere but into his eyes. Romantic getaway. He knows exactly why I had to make that journey in the first place, and he is assuming I invited Rylan when that is as far from the truth as you can get.
All of a sudden, I barely recognise the man standing in front of me. I know he’s never been certain, never wanted to have his hopes set high for Finnick coming home, but he’s never been so abrasive about it. Never looked in my eyes and shut me down the way he is right now.
He hugged me before I left, he told me to be careful. I thought we were okay. What changed over the last week? Maybe it was simply his mind.
I was foolish to ever imagine that becoming something more than friends with Silas was the one thing that would make everything feel all right again.
All it has done has distanced us, making me feel further from him than I ever did when I was nothing more than Finnick’s baby sister.
Regardless of anything that might have happened with Rylan.
“I can’t believe you right now.” I shake my head, pushing past him and heading straight for Merlin.
I wanted to tell him everything, but how can I? If this is how he reacts to something that could very well be true, how will he react to the things that have no explanation at all? Like a shining wall, a magical dagger, and three vials of gods’ blood?
I can’t tell him anything—can’t trust him with anything. All I can do is get as far away from here as possible. But I halt when I see a large hand pressed against Merlin’s white nose.
“Ah, Miss Greene,” Mayor Hawthorne says as he eyes me. “Always a pleasure to see you.”
I feel anything but the same. The mayor’s presence alone sets me on edge. I nod my head in faux respect. “And you, sir.”
His eyes narrow, a glint shining in them. As if he can sense my discomfort, as if he’s glad for it. “I heard a rumour you were back in town,” he says, his hand firmly on Merlin.
The horse stamps his foot, pulling his head from the mayor’s grasp. But Hawthorne is unbothered, his gaze stuck on where I stand on the other side of Merlin’s large body. I find myself grateful for the semblance of separation he gives us. “Did you enjoy your wee journey through the province?”
My stomach churns, and I have to force myself not to look over my shoulder at Silas. He is the only person aside from Hazel and Cedar that knew where I was going, the one person who saw me yesterday but didn’t approach me.
“Well,” I say, untying the rope that holds Merlin against the fencepost. “It was enlightening, to say the least.”
A grin spreads across the mayor’s face. The sight of it makes me feel ill.
“Hm,” is all he says before he takes slow, deliberate steps towards me.
“You ought to be careful with that shop of yours,” he warns, his eyes glittering with something sickening.
“You don’t want to end up like the women in the town square now, do you?
” He leaves no room for subtlety as he looks down at me, so close I can feel his hot breath on the bridge of my nose.
“No sir,” is all I can say.
He inhales a sharp breath. “You know, it was just so lovely of you all to give them a wee funeral. The criminals, I mean.”
I take shallow breaths, and my nostrils flare as he cuts his stare to where Silas stands behind me. “I shall let you know if I am in need of your disposal services ever again.”
Disposal services.
He sends me a righteous grin before he gives Merlin a firm slap on his back. I instinctively move towards the horse, soothing him as the mayor walks away from us, but I don’t miss the pointed look he sends over his shoulder. But it’s not directed at me—it’s directed at Silas.
I close my eyes, letting my hands move over Merlin’s coat, giving him a bit of love as he puts his head over my shoulder.
“What was that?” I say, looking over at Silas. His face looks even paler in complexion than usual.
“What was what?” he mutters.
“That look he just gave you.” Silas shakes his head, and fury spears through me. “Do not pretend as if I wasn’t standing right here. You may take me for a fool, but I am not that ignorant.”
His face contorts into a frown. “I do not take you for a fool. I never have, and you know that.”
I just shake my head. “I do not seem to know anything anymore.”
I hike up my skirts and lift myself onto Merlin’s back, not caring for any kind of explanation from him, not right now. Not when I am so confused and upset. I need time, a moment to process everything that I’ve learnt. I haven’t taken more than a second to breathe, and I feel like I might implode.
“Evie, please.”
“I’ll see you at that man’s name-day,” is all I say before I’m kicking my heels into the horse's belly, sending him flying back towards my cabin.
I pull Merlin to a stop in the middle of the clearing where my cabin sits soaking in the afternoon sun. Basking like an animal fresh out of the water.
I slide off his back, not bothering to tie him up before I fall to my knees in the grass. I feel my body rack with a sob that I swallow back.
My mother’s words flood my mind. If you look deep inside, you might find the answers.
“I am searching, Mother,” I whisper. “But I don’t understand.”
My fingers dig into the dirt, the soil slipping beneath my nails as I grip the earth, hanging onto the one thing that is steady, the one thing that hasn’t changed when it feels as if everything else has.
I close my eyes, letting every feeling, every emotion rise to the surface, letting myself feel all of it.
I clench my jaw as my entire body tenses up, like the swell before a wave crashes against the sand. And when I open my eyes, small flecks of gold swarm my hands.
I gasp, pulling my hands away and falling back, the shimmer vanishing into thin air.
My heart is pumping within my chest, all of those emotions swirling into anxiety in the pit of my stomach. What was that?
I shuffle back onto my knees, replacing my hands where they left the grass flattened.
I push into the earth, dragging all of those feelings up once more, attempting to funnel them into the ground.
To let them pulse through my veins and down to my hands.
But when I open my eyes, there is nothing but grass.