Chapter 31
Enid
Isat in bed with Fiona next to me, both of us poring over botany books and reading about the elements of healing in different plant species.
Well, I was reading. Fiona’s book was mostly pictures, which she seemed to be enjoying.
She’d shown up this morning with an armful of books, and some of them actually looked fascinating.
I’d always had a complicated relationship with botany and its medicinal properties, mainly because other than the beauty of their creations, Mother had been most proud of the fact that their plants had the power to heal.
It was also another reason they hated me—because my creations were the opposite of theirs, intended to destroy, not save.
But after I’d watched Nevan use one of my flowers to help someone, I hadn’t been able to get it out of my mind. That had been three weeks ago, and since then, I’d been at the library almost daily, checking out new books on healing with botany.
I’d realized how very wrong my mother had been about everything.
In a short time, I’d helped Nevan create a numbing tincture, a potion that could cut skin open without ever needing a knife, and a salve that warded off creatures because of its smell—all with my plants.
There was so much possibility in this bog, and for the first time ever, I was buzzing with purpose and excitement.
I wasn’t just existing anymore. I was living.
All the facets of healing were fascinating. I understood now how Nevan could lose track of time and stay up late into the night reading his alchemy books. I’d done the same with these botany books several nights in a row.
I shifted as a ray of sun shone in my eye.
Vine picked up the blue book next to me and lifted it in the air.
My excitement quickly soured. “I’ve tried. I really have tried to read that book, but I can’t. It’s so boring.”
Vine opened it up where I’d bookmarked my spot.
I’d read over half of it now, meeting with the book club every week and discussing the chapters.
I enjoyed the company of the women more than anything else, but I was struggling to get through the book.
It wasn’t even very long, more of a novella than a full novel. In fact, we were almost to the end.
“Vine’s right,” Fiona said from my other side, her book splayed open in her lap. “You won’t be prepared for book club tomorrow. And Auntie Harriet said the book is getting really spicy. She sounded excited about it.”
I flicked the little girl in her arm, and she glared at me.
“I don’t think you should be listening in on your aunts’ conversations.” I paused as I saw a pink figure inching up the vine ladder that hung off the ledge of my bedroom.
Morton poked his head into the room.
“Besides,” I said, wiggling my fingers at the bookwyrm, “I have a plan.”
Morton entered my bedroom, spreading his wings out. “What am I doing here, exactly? I got a note that said there was a book emergency. I came as soon as I could.”
I’d gotten to know the little bookwyrm more over the last few weeks, and I’d discovered the perfect way to lure him here to help me.
Vine perked up, and Morton shrieked when he noticed it.
“Does that thing eat wyrms?”
Vine slithered toward Morton, who flapped his wings, barely able to lift off the ground and get himself to the bed.
“Don’t you come near me,” he said to Vine.
Fiona patted Vine’s tail. “I think it just wants to be your friend.”
Morton’s shaggy pink eyebrows shot up. “I make it a point to not be friends with creatures who can eat me.”
I looked up from my book. “That’s actually valid.”
“Vine would never eat you!” Fiona said, a horrified look on her face.
Vine had slithered up into her lap, and she was petting it as it purred. She had absolutely ruined my python vine. It wasn’t remotely as terrifying as it used to be.
“You still haven’t answered my question,” Morton said, now perched on the end of the bed and shooting wary glances at Vine. “What is the emergency?”
I held up the blue book. “I need you to eat this.”
Morton paused a moment, then gasped. Vine shot straight up, shaking its head.
I rolled my eyes. “It’s not cheating, Vine. I’ve read over half the book. I already know they’re going to end up together. All Morton is doing is speeding up the inevitable for me.”
“What’s invetybal?” Fiona asked.
Morton’s mouth dropped open. “You want me to spoil the ending of the book for you? That was your emergency?”
“I have to be ready for book club tomorrow, and I don’t have time to read to the end of this.”
“Then why did you join book club?” Morton asked. “Books are sacred, and I am wholly against spoiling them.”
“Oh, come on.” I dangled it in the air. “I know you’ve been wanting to eat this book.”
Morton licked his lips.
“I’ve seen the way you stare at it during our meetings. It’ll be our little secret.” I shot a look at Fiona. “Right?”
She nodded. “Yeah, I want to see you eat the book!”
Morton huffed, smoke puffing from his nostrils. “Absolutely not.”
I dropped the book on the bed and nudged it toward him with my foot.
“Stop that!”
“Getting hungry?” I asked.
He eyed it for a moment, then let out a strangled groan. “Ugh, fine.”
That was far easier than I’d anticipated. Fiona and I shot each other smiles while Vine just shook its head and slumped to the bed.
Morton slithered forward, jaw hinging open as he approached the book. He tore into it, chomping and crunching loudly, his little body getting bigger and bigger, just like Vine’s did when it ate its prey.
“Whoa,” Fiona said. “Cool.”
Bits of paper and cardboard flew into the air, Morton inhaling every bit.
He finished, letting out a loud belch. We were all silent, waiting and watching to see what happened next. The bulge in his stomach traveled back up and came flying out, all the pieces floating and whirling in the air and putting themselves back together until it was like the book was brand new.
“That was so gross.” Fiona squealed, delighted by that fact.
“So?” I asked. “What happens?”
Morton sighed.
“I know you want to tell me.”
“Where did you leave off?” he asked, voice resigned.
I tapped my chin, trying to remember what had happened up to this point in the story.
“Well, Merry—what a ridiculous name, by the way—arrived in this small village after being on the run because she secretly had magic. She gets to this village and accidentally ruins a huge feast by knocking over the cake. Everyone is upset with her, but one kind innkeeper takes her in because he needs a new scullery maid.”
Vine perked up as I was describing the events of the story. Of course it would like this book.
The story made no sense. If an innkeeper needed a trustworthy scullery maid, he wouldn’t hire some random woman with a mysterious past and let her live in his home. “She started work as a scullery maid, paranoid that her secret would be found out by these people.”
Vine leaned its head forward, listening intently.
“That’s when she discovered there was some threat against the village, and she realized she could secretly use her magic to save them.
So she started putting up wards around the town limits.
The only problem was she had to do this every single night, and the innkeeper got suspicious.
He followed her, and then they had this whole bonding moment, and then he had her pressed up against a tree, and they—”
I stopped abruptly and looked down at Fiona, who was staring at me with wide eyes.
“And they what?” she whispered.
Vine covered her ears, but she tugged it down.
“And they gave each other adult hugs,” I said.
“What’s an adult hug?” Fiona asked.
“Nothing,” I said quickly. “Anyway, after that, Merry decided that if she could befriend the innkeeper, maybe others would accept her too. She started putting herself out there and making friends. But one night she was spending time with the innkeeper and forgot to put up the wards. The town was attacked, and that’s where I left off. ”
Vine poked me in the arm, and I swatted it away. “Not now.” I met Morton’s gaze. “So what happens next?”
Morton sighed. “I can’t believe I’m doing this. I’m going to be an accomplice to your crimes.”
“Oh, please. It’s just a book. I’m not asking you to help me murder someone and get rid of the body.”
Morton’s black eyes shifted toward Fiona, but she just smiled. “Oh, I know all about murder,” she chirped.
I whipped my head in her direction. “What? You’re six years old.”
She scowled. “I’m seven.”
“Same thing.”
“And I know about murder because I’ve overheard Auntie Harriet talk about it. She is head of the royal guard, you know.”
I pinched her nose, and she giggled. “I think someone is doing a little too much overhearing lately.” I turned my attention back to the bookwyrm. “All right, Morton, out with it. How does the book end?”
He huffed, spurts of smoke filling the air before dissipating. “The attackers come back, and this time Merry reveals her magic in order to save everyone. She passes out and wakes up days later in the town jail.”
“What?” I snapped. “She saved them and they arrested her?”
Morton blinked. “Yes, that’s what I just said.”
“Then what?” I leaned forward. “If this ends in her dying, I’m going to throw this book in the bog.”
Morton gasped. “You wouldn’t.”
“I think she would.” Fiona tugged at the end of one of her braids. “She’s got that vein thing going on that happens when she’s angry.”
“It’s a romance.” Exasperation filled Morton’s voice. “Romances end happily. Of course she doesn’t die.”
I settled back against my headboard. “Okay, so what happens then?” I was guessing everyone would realize how wrong they were about Merry and accept her with open arms.
“The innkeeper rescues her and realizes how corrupt the town is, so he runs off with her somewhere new where they can both start again and hide her magic forever.” He slumped. “Can I go now, or are you holding me captive?”
“I didn’t kidnap you.” I sniffed. “You came of your own free will.”
“Under false pretense!”
“Get out of here before I change my mind and decide to let Vine play with you.”
Morton turned with a squeak and quickly slithered away, disappearing down the rope ladder at the edge of my bedroom.
I sat there, staring out into the distance, my mood suddenly sour.
“You should go too,” I said to Fiona. “You can’t keep skipping school and showing up here unannounced.”
She settled back, propping up her botany book. “You always say that.”
“But this time I mean it. I’ll talk to your aunts about it.”
Fiona gasped and her eyes turned glassy. “No, don’t tell them I’m coming here. Please.”
“How has your teacher not said anything?”
Fiona swallowed. “I’ve been sending fake sick notes to her. Besides, she probably doesn’t even notice I’m gone. If you say something, I’ll have to go to school.”
“That’s where you’re supposed to be!” I threw up my hands. “You need to go to school.”
Her chin jutted out, and she crossed her arms.
“Just go, Fiona. And if you come back during school hours, I will be forced to do something about it.”
She stared at me for a minute, then her shoulders slumped. She got off the bed, head hanging as she walked toward the stairs and disappeared. Her little footsteps thumped against the floorboards painfully slowly, then the door creaked open and clicked closed.
Guilt stabbed me, but I wouldn’t go after her. I had this sudden need to be alone, and I wasn’t exactly sure what had caused this change in my mood.
After Fiona disappeared, Vine flicked me in the arm. “Ow. Why did you do that?”
It pointed its tail out the window of my loft toward Fiona, now walking down the main road, head still hanging.
“I wasn’t being mean. I was being a responsible adult. You should be proud of me for not encouraging her to miss school.”
Vine lifted the blue book, dangling it in my face.
I swatted it away. “It’s not about that.”
It laid the book on the bed and flipped it open to the last chapter. My eyes flicked over the page, just enough to read about Merry and the innkeeper fleeing the town that was supposed to be their home.
I snatched the book, stomped to the edge of my room, reared back my arm, and threw it as hard as I could. Niamh would probably kill me and Morton might very well pass out from horror when it found out what I’d done.
I turned to face Vine. “Yes, okay? I’m mad. Livid, actually. And I’m glad I didn’t read the stupid book because that ending was terrible. Merry saved the entire town, and they arrested her. Treated her like a criminal. She didn’t even do anything wrong. She was a nice person, a good person.”
Vine slithered to the end of the bed, up my body, and around my shoulders, giving me a squeeze. Its tail reached up and wiped away a tear I hadn’t realized was there.
“It’s just a dumb book,” I said through tears. “And maybe I was a little hard on Fiona because that ending upset me. But she really does need to be in school. I’m going to get in trouble if someone finds out she’s missing school to come to my cottage.”
And I wasn’t a hero, not like Merry, so I had no chance of being forgiven.
Vine didn’t move or argue, and I was thankful. I didn’t want to think about the book or Fiona anymore.
Except I was going to have to attend that book club tomorrow, was going to have to listen to everyone squeal and gush over how good that ending was, and if I wanted to fit in and earn their votes, I’d have to pretend I liked it too.
Nevan was supposed to come here tonight.
Despite our fake relationship, we hadn’t had many official dates over the last few weeks.
We’d had a lot of stolen moments and quick trysts, but tonight was the first night he was taking off so we could spend it together.
The thought that he might actually spend the night for the first time had made me giddy, knowing that we could take our time with each other and cuddle.
Godwitches. I’d actually been excited to cuddle with him.
But now, thinking about Merry’s story, I felt sick. I grabbed a piece of parchment and a quill from my end table, then stretched it out toward Vine.
Vine grabbed it, curling its tail around the note.
“Tell Nevan I’m sorry,” I said.