5. All I Need is You – Rosemary
All I Need is You
ROSEMARY
Tap. Tap, tap. Tap. TAP!
"Okay, okay!" I muttered, setting my journal and pen down with a quiet sigh. Crossing the room quickly, I noticed Herb perched outside, his beady eyes locked on mine. His blue-black feathers shimmered, capturing the dawn's gentle light.
"Hold on a moment," I said to him as if he could understand me. "I may have some seeds for you."
Herb had shown up several decades after I'd woken in the cottage, and he hadn't left since. The first time I saw him, he was impossible to miss, slamming his little body into the window, his beak tapping frantically at the herbs drying behind the glass. Somehow, he’d broken through. He’d flailed through the hanging herbs, feathers flying, and had crashed into the back bedroom.
His caws had been so loud I’d had to cover my ears as I’d ducked each time he’d swooped by. Pure chaos.
It had taken me two hours to wrangle that damn bird out of the cottage.
That had been forty years ago. In all that time, he’d remained just as unchanged as my slumbering sister.
He'd show up every day, searching for herbs or seeds.
The only way I knew he was the same bird was the spot of white on his beak.
It hadn't taken long for him to develop the name Herb since he damn near destroyed my entire collection of dried herbs. The length of his life far exceeded a normal bird’s lifespan.
I figured he was a familiar who had yet to find his witch.
Or maybe he’d lost her. Poor thing. He'd have to look elsewhere as I barely had enough magic to maintain my healing endeavors.
Besides, the seelie didn't take familiars even if they held enough magic to do so.
To take a familiar was to create a bond that lasted until death.
A seelie bond was a powerful thing, and the death of a familiar was dangerous for a seelie, often fatal.
That was a risk I could not take, not while Briar was trapped in slumber.
Still, Herb remained even without the familiar's bond, and whether he knew it or not, I was secretly grateful for the company.
I stared at his dark brown beady eyes as he cawed a sound that resembled 'no.'
I pressed my lips into a firm line to avoid smiling. "Yes," I insisted, leaning forward as I pushed open the window. "You want your special treat? Then you will eat the good stuff first."
Herb cawed in protest again, his head shaking side-to-side. Stubborn thing.
"Fine then, fly away and come back when you are more agreeable." I turned away from him.
His little talons clicked as he hopped across the windowsill and onto my worktable. I sat back down, pulled open my journal, and let my gaze linger on the page as he stood idly in the center of the worn table.
Caw!
I closed the journal and glared at him. "The seeds then?"
With a frustrated sigh, I pulled a bowl from the cabinet and filled it with seeds, placing it in front of him. As he pecked through the offering, I returned to my seat and picked up where I'd left off.
Like the dozens before it, this journal held every recipe I'd tried in my relentless attempt to wake my sister.
But today's entry was different. It detailed everything I could gather about the daemonacus flower.
On another page, I'd started a list of what I'd need to bring with me to find its petals.
Herb hopped on the tabletop, his little feet tapping against the worn wooden surface as he danced. He opened his wings, flapping to get my attention. The bowl now sat empty.
When I looked to him, he seemed to nod toward the book in my hand. It seemed as if he were asking me what had happened.
"Kasto returned from his journey and brought with him a promising book," I explained, nodding toward the thick tome still open on the table next to my reading chair. "I think I’ve found the missing ingredient. The one thing powerful enough to wake Briar."
As the words filled the room, hope bloomed warmly within my chest. After failure upon failure, I couldn't remember a time when I'd felt any hope at all.
I watched Herb as I spoke, and even he seemed to perk up with my words. Perhaps he could sense my hope in some preternatural way only nature seemed to offer.
My satchel sat next to my worktable. I hadn't packed everything yet, but I'd started placing clothing into the bottom for the long trek. The crow followed my gaze, his shiny beak pecking at the table before he hopped closer to my pack.
"It means I must leave Briar for a time.
There is no other way. I need to travel deep into the Everland Forest. It is the only place the daemonacus flower can be found.
Time is limited. There is only a single full moon left before the bloom disappears for another ten years' time.
" A heavy sigh fell from me. "I trust that you will keep an eye on things here.
Briar will be safe here for a time without me. I will return as quickly as I can."
The crow seemed wary, or maybe that was just my own wariness.
Yet everything I had spoken was true. Briar would be okay in my absence.
That was the nature of her curse. She would remain asleep, untouched by time.
The only change would be the dust that settled around her.
Except, as my gaze lingered on the doorway to the back bedroom, I couldn’t help but think that wasn’t necessarily true anymore.
Time no longer seemed to be on our side.
I turned from Herb, walking around the room to snuff out the candles one by one, the sunlight now sufficient to light the space.
I prepared a simple breakfast of eggs and toasted bread from the loaf I'd baked two days ago. I tossed Herb a slice of fresh bread before taking my plate to my worktable. I would miss our cozy cottage and simple life, but if there was a chance to wake Briar, I had no choice.
My meal finished, I crossed to the large bedroom tucked into the back of the cottage.
Briar's hair still looked pristine in the braid I'd twisted it into days ago, but I carefully pulled the ribbon from it and combed my fingers through the long length.
Her pale blond hair lay in gentle waves down to her waist when I finished.
More strands had fallen free from it again today.
Something that had only begun happening a few weeks ago. "I'll be right back, Bri."
I grabbed my cloak and stepped into the dawn.
I needed fresh water for my sister's bath, so I made my way to the stream just past the tree line. I filled the bucket to the brim and grunted at its weight as I turned back toward the cottage. My eyes scanned the trees, the uneasy feeling of being watched settling around me. I hoped the unseelie wasn’t lurking in the woods, and for the hundredth time since coming home last night, I hoped he hadn’t followed me.
It had been careless of me to scurry off like that, but I hadn’t the nerve to stand there a moment longer.
Herb followed me all the way back, his movements curt and his beady eyes glaring at me as he angrily cawed at my back. I hurried back home, knowing I would give him more seeds once inside.
Opening the door wide, I waited for Herb to enter before swinging it shut behind him. He settled onto my worktable, his usual place to perch, as he flapped his wings at me impatiently.
I heated water for Briar's bath. Twenty minutes later, she lay smelling like the roses I'd used to create my soap, dressed in her light-yellow dress.
I left her hair in waves around her body.
None of it made up for the lack of attention I'd given her these past days, but it felt good to care for her.
After tidying up, I returned to the kitchen and realized I hadn't opened the window for Herb to leave. I rushed to open it, but Herb stayed put on the worktable. Exasperated, I sank into my chair, sighing with relief.
"For over a century, all I've wanted is to fulfill my promise to my mother, to wake my sister, my best friend, whom I miss dearly.
" My voice faltered, tears burning at the back of my throat.
They stung my eyes, trailing down my cheeks as I sniffled.
My hair framed my face as I hung my head, failure weighing heavily on me.
Herb cawed again, as if he could sense the downward spiral of my thoughts. When I looked up, he shook his head.
"You're right," I murmured, wiping my damp cheeks with my sweater sleeve. "I can't succumb to this way of thinking. I must refuse to let it sink its claws into me. I need to save my sister, and inevitably, my kingdom, no matter how long it takes."
A loud crash sounded from outside as if every one of my buckets and pots had just collapsed. Before I could wonder what had happened, a high-pitched string of curses hit my ears, and my shoulders drooped with recognition.
"Magdalyn!" I shouted, shocked as I rose and hurried toward the door. "It's been over a decade since last you called!"
"Peter's balls! When did you move this here?" she demanded, brushing debris from her legs. A deep frown creased her face, but I couldn't suppress a laugh at her disgruntled antics. Once her pants were mostly cleared of dirt, her wings flitted, lifting her off the ground.
"I always place those there near the end of a growing season. You know that. Where have you been all this time?"
When my mother had sent us away, she’d entrusted our care to this fairy.
Fairies never stayed still for long. Magdalyn visited us occasionally, checking in on 'her girls' as she pleased.
I practically starved my first winter before she decided to check up on us.
After that, I learned not to rely on her help.
"That doesn't matter, dear. What does is this: Are you ready for a magic lesson?" she said, peering at me with her pale blue eyes.
"You mean, the magic lessons I should be having on a daily basis?" I questioned, my brow lifting.