3
Six Months Later
With a basket filled with dried herbs, I set out for the apothecary.
“Move,” Ari warns. “We are being followed and you need to get somewhere full of people.
As I cross by a stand selling roasted chestnuts, my attention is caught by a shadowy figure in black who seems to be tailing me.
Damn it, she’s right.
Looking out of the corner of my eye, I observe a man cloaked in shadows.
Great, I think sarcastically.
The nasally voice of a maiden catches my attention. “Word from my sister is that the Pythia have yet to find the girl.” The tone of her voice gives me pause. “They still believe it was meant to be Celeste but there’s too much unpredictability to be certain. Apparently, they have a whole list of people who’ll be potentially taken.” The young girl’s face pales when she sees me brushing past. Pointing, she whispers to her friend.
“Shush!” A brown haired girl hushed her companion.
“Did you see her eyes? I bet the god will take her.” Another maiden whispers as I cross their path.
Doubt it.I think snottily to myself. Mocking the maiden’s nasally tone. Even Apollo would surely see right through me. I’m a jinx. The world knows it. I know it.
Mortals like her would probably prefer it was me. Someone who is disposable. A forgettable soul who is dispensable.
As two women pass, I snap my focus back on the man tailing me.
But he was gone.
Shadows stood in his wake.
Pushing past the girls, I try to ignore them and the shadow lurking stranger.
I close the short distance to town with my skeleton key to the shop and my basket of herbs. My sour mood must have been obvious to the other town members and festival goers who were giving me a wide berth in the enclosed streets.
As I reached the apothecary, my heart felt warm.
I’m welcomed by the wide-open doors propped for customers. This was more of my home than my family dwelling. Herbs in various stages of drying hang along the ceiling. Candles flicker around the shop. The familiar smell of sandalwood rolled over me. Agatha sat slightly swaying in the weathered rocking chair in the corner.
The logs in the hearth crackled off to my right. The light smell of smoke and incense brings a smile to my lips.
“Evening Agatha, I brought some more herbs for the shop. I noticed that we needed some more to dry.” Placing the large pile of herbs on the counter, I slipped past Agatha and gave her a quick hug.
Agatha pulled me close as she stared at me with nervous eyes, yanking me close and greeting me with a cheek kiss. “Someone came here asking for you.”
Watching Agatha, I knew something was off. Her face stared gravely at me. Like she couldn’t speak freely. With a tense jaw, Agatha observes the shop. I follow her eyes around. Spotting no one.
Shooting her a crooked grin, I laugh. “Someone’s come to express their undying love for me? Which one of my many suitors could it have been?”
“That’s not funny.” Agatha glares at me. Her demeanor is so different from her normal playful energy. “Pandora, listen to me. This is serious, I have seen this man but once before in this village,” her quavering voice is frightened. Eyes wide, her hands shake slightly.
Agatha is odd but not this odd.
I raise an incredulous eyebrow as I sort the foliage on the counter. Taking care to bind the bundles with twine before hanging them on the ropes strung across the ceiling. “Yeah? There are a lot of men in town, aren’t there?” I question. “He is probably in town for the festival.”
As one of the largest mortal towns in the area, Karpathos is the hub for many of the festivals.
“Pandora, watch out tonight,” Agatha’s voice was a hair above an inaudible whisper. “Be with a guarded heart.”
With a slightly forced confused smile, I cock my head. “Okay Agatha. I promise to be safe.” Even though I”m not in danger.
The matron nods, visibly taking a moment to collect herself by glancing over the shelves upon shelves of her wares.
Agatha requests, “Would you start a new batch of healing tinctures?”
“Sure thing.”
Scooping out lavender essence, valerian root and other ingredients to create our home-made draught, Agatha states, “You’re such a dear. My hands aren”t as steady as they once were.”
Grasping the metal stirring rod, I blink.
Not again, I groan.
The dark worn wooden fixtures of the apothecary fade into a bright airy marble apothecary. Extravagant enough to be a palace.
“Pay attention to that healing tonic,” a deep voice warns. “Wait, don’t stir yet!”
Whipping around, I stared up at the bare chest facing me. Towering above me, a middle-aged man stands above me. Long curly brown locks are half tossed into a bun while the rest drapes loosely around his shoulders. Dark eyes focused on the mixing bowl. Gripping my arm he reaches over me, knocking the metal utensil from my grasp. “No metal!”
Both wrists are bound in shackles. Broken and no longer tethered. the memory of what was once bound. I question, “Why do you still wear shackles? Don’t they interfere with brewing?”
“No, they have no effect on my ability to brew. My shackles serve as a reminder of mortals and their hatred of species that are unlike their own,” he prattles, not paying much mind to his response. “Especially Centaurs and the other ‘beasts.’”
The half man, half horse stands beside and mostly behind me. Watching my movements intently.
Chiron, that”s his name. But I don’t know I know this but I’m certain it’s him.
“Wood only for this tincture,” he instructs.
“What?” I ask, now confused.
Chuckling softly, he explains, “Healing draughts are fickle. Metal can make the potion inert.” Who is this man? He feels familiar and even his laughter doesn’t feel like he is doing it out of ill will. “Keep up the stirring, my lady. The mixture looks superb. The lilac sheen is precisely where it needs to be at this stage.”
The tapping brings me out of my daydream.
“Dear, are you feeling quite alright? Have you run out of your medicine,” Agatha whispers.
Not only am I marked by death, but I hear and see things others can’t. If the town knew… I’d probably be forced into the ranks of the Pythian Priestesses.
“Nearly,” I meekly replied. “Is it noticeable? I have been taking a third of what I”m supposed to.” Biting my lip, I shift nervously.
She shrugs. “Only to those who care enough to look.”
Nodding, I drop my metal stick for a wooden spoon.
After spending two hours on the mixture, I finally completed it. Stretching, I clean my table and begin sweeping, dusting, and tending to customers. Agatha hobbles up behind the counter, watching me work. “Maybe you should go out and enjoy the evening.” She gripped my arm as I passed by.
“It’s okay Agatha, it has been such a busy night already. I wouldn’t want to abandon you and the shop.” Plus, I love it here. As the only bookshop and apothecary in the area, the business is always booming on holiday evenings. Bringing people in from all over.
Agatha began untying my shop apron as she chided, “Come on child, please go and enjoy your night on behalf of this old lady.” She flicks my apron off and brushes hair out of my face. “Afterall you never know how much time you have left.”
Her face is pale. Almost as gray as her hair.
“Are you okay, Aggie?” Scanning the area, I glance around the shop for anything.
“Oh, it’s nothing. Just got carried away in my thoughts,” she grimaces.
I could feel this was not the entire truth. “Mhmm,” I reply with a voice that oozes with suspicion.
She taps my hand once again before hobbling to the money box beneath the counter before grabbing out a small bag of gold and tosses it to me. “Please humor this old lady and enjoy your night.”
I caught the bag. This was not like Aggie, but I chose not to press her. “Okay, Aggie.”
As I snatch my rucksack from behind the counter, Agatha pulls me into a deep warm hug. Her voice hovering a hair above a hushed tone. “Be wary of any strangers tonight but make sure to have fun.” She looks off into the distance at our sole lone customer in the shop. “Mischief is afoot tonight.”
“I promise to be careful.” I smile at my friend and grab a broom. After a quick sweep, I will leave for the night.
“Tonight isn’t like other nights. I can feel it deep in my bones.” Her voice wavers as the lone customer comes up to the counter. Agatha grips the counter firmly.
“It’s probably arthritis,” the massive man sneers. Easily a foot taller than me. He tosses the crystals toward Agatha as well as the payment. He hardly looks at Agatha. Instead, he stares at me with an air of arrogance.
“Run,” Ari whispers. “Don’t let him find you. Remain unseen.”
Too late for that,I think to myself.
I shake my broom at him threateningly. Well, as threatening as a broom could be. “Look here you arrogant malaka! You don’t get to come in here and disrespect Agatha.”
Looking me up and down he smiles at me predatorily, “Oh, what’s this? A feisty little mouse?”
I raise my eyebrow before narrowing my eyes. My temper flares. “That”s it, you”re done. This mouse will be putting your ass out.” I smack the man with the broom and shoo him out of the door.
The man with the golden eyes widened. Watching me in horror, he snaps, “Oi, I”m buying some crystals, and I”m not done here.”
Gritting my teeth, I glare at the man. “Too bad. Learn some respect and maybe you can come back.” I turn back to the man who stares down at me with a slackened jaw. “Leave!” I flick him firmly in the ass with the bramble broom.
The man tumbles out onto the busy streets. His anger is self-evident, but I don’t care. Even though he is irate, there was something else there. Maybe confusion?
“What? Not used to being told what to do by a mouse?” I give him a fake pouty face.” His smoky golden eyes narrow at me.
Just as he opens his mouth, I throw the door shut behind me to check on Agatha. She remains as still as a statue. Brushing off her behavior to the customer’s rude remarks, I snagged the money from the counter and opened the door again to toss them to the man.
He looks at me and stammers to get words out, but I throw the door closed behind me.
“Ugh! I hate arrogant asshole men.” Smoothing out my clothes and taking a moment to breathe. “Back to our conversation. May I at least borrow a book in case I get bored?” People my own age were so hard to relate with or even talk to. Books are so much easier to socialize with. I read them when I’m up for it and toss them to the side on my terms. No strings or commitments attached.
“Fine. One book and you better not go right into reading. Dance a bit, get some wine, maybe – I don’t know– socialize with people?” Agatha chides as she peaks out the curtains at the man in the street.
Sighing loudly, I reply, “Promise.”
“Why don’t I believe you?” plays Agatha.
“Thanks Agatha.” I snatched a herbology book from the shelf.
The lady gives a loud groan when she spots my pick. “See! You grab the thickest book from my shelf.”
I shrug. “Old habits die hard.”
She and I share a round of giggles.
“Have a good night, dear.” Her voice and gaze softened.
Nodding to her, I say, “See you in the morning, Agatha.”