Chapter 46
Anxiety ricochets in my stomach as the carriage driver drops me off outside Nettlerock. I have no idea how my reunion with my family will go. Will they forgive me for leaving? Will they take one look and sense the guilt thrashing inside of me like an insatiable beast?
Maybe I won’t have to feel guilty. Desmond might get away. Eldon might be a better ruler than Orla. Probably not, but one can hope.
As I pass the first cluster of thatched houses, a part of me screams to turn around. I’m a bug sinking into a web. Once I’m entangled, I’ll never escape again.
Upon seeing Evie crouched in the field, sweat upon her beautiful brow and lips pursed in concentration, the dread dissipates. A smile spreads across my face, even with the flies buzzing and the stench of manure, because it’s her. It feels like I haven’t seen my sister in a lifetime.
She pauses at the sound of my footfall. She’s alone; Mom must be busy salting meat in the cellar, and Dad must be on his monthly patrol shift.
Evie turns around. Her spade drops, and her face lights up like fireflies over a meadow. “Cynthia!” Her arms fly wide as she sprints to me. I laugh, dropping my pack to take her sweaty body into a hug. She nuzzles into my shoulder. “You came back.” And then she bursts into tears.
“Of course I came back.” I stroke the back of her head. It’s not the midday sun warming me—it’s her. My sister is my sunshine. Tears run down my cheeks as I spin her.
She laughs. “Put me down! I’m still healing from the stitches.”
I set her down. “Are you alright?”
She curls water from a bucket, sloshing it across her hands to clean them. “I’m fine, other than my sister leaving me with all her chores!” The water whips my shoulder.
“Hey!” I laugh despite it drenching my sleeve. “I promise I’ve more than made up for it. Would you like a tiara, Princess Evangeline?”
She puts her hand on her hip. “A tiara? We’re too old for flower crowns.”
“Try sapphires.” I wink as I pull out the gleaming pink tiara from my rucksack.
Evie’s lips part in awe. “That’s. . . That can’t be real!”
I place it atop her mussed hair and curtsey. “You’re beautiful as always, my lady.”
First, she touches it, as if she has to convince herself it’s not an illusion. Then her gaze darts to my rucksack. I reach in, pulling out the silk cloths, then an emerald cabochon that sparkles like dappled leaves in sunlight. “Where did you get all that?” she squeaks.
“It’s better if you don’t know. Now help me take it inside before the whole village sees.” Everyone would beg for a share, but I’m determined to keep it all for my family. They deserve every last coin.
We hurry into the house and dump the bag out on the kitchen table.
Sheathed daggers clink against gemstones as they scatter into a pile that would make a dragon envious.
An ovular rock the size of my fist shimmers purple-green and rolls with a wobble until it stops against an embroidered napkin. “What is that?” Evie asks me.
I pick it up. It’s surprisingly light and warm like it’s been sitting in sunlight. “I don’t know.” I set it back down.
Evie fishes out a ruby-studded bracelet and spins it. Red refractions dance across her cheeks and along the walls. “This is unbelievable. What will we do with it all?”
“Sell it. Most of it, anyway. You and Mom can keep your favorites. Don’t wear any of it until you move to Mythos. People here would ask too many questions.”
“Move to Mythos.” She snorts, but it’s an endearing snort that befits a lady. “We can’t farm in the city. There would be nowhere to pickle the produce or skin the chickens. I don’t imagine people there have gardens.”
I’m exasperated that she still doesn’t understand.
“We don’t need to farm anymore. You can do anything you want, court anyone you want.
You can take up embroidery and gossip into the night with the noblewomen.
Think of the balls you’d be invited to. Maybe you’ll even dance with Prince Ronan.
” I wiggle my brows, eliciting a giggle from her.
“I don’t know, Cyn.” I can tell she’s warming up to the idea as she scoops up a handful of antiquated gold marks, her brown eyes blooming wide with hope. “We’d have to leave everything we’ve ever known behind.”
“And isn’t that exciting?” I take her hands and spin her around the room as if waltzing, even though I’ve never learned one. “You’ll be safe there. I won’t have to worry anymore.”
“Worry about what?”
My feet falter, but she doesn’t notice. “About how you’re doing when I travel.”
Evie freezes, the hurt raw on her face. “You just got back, and you want to leave again?”
“No, not immediately. But I’ve always wanted to see the world. You can come with me.” To be honest, that’s not an idea I had in mind, but if bringing her along would make her happy, I’d do it. “I want to help you choose a manor. And I’d visit often.”
If she asks me to define often, I don’t know if she’ll like the answer. But I won’t forget about home. I hope she knows that.
“Cynthia,” she whines. “We aren’t strong enough to travel the continent. We have Average magic, barely any weapon proficiency, and our parents would be lost without us.”
The daggers on the table unsheathe and lift into the air. I spin them in a perfect arc, ignoring the headache that reminds me I’m still recovering. “I’ve trained. Average Gifts aren’t weak, if you learn how to use them.” It took me long enough to learn that lesson from Desmond.
Evie looks impressed, but it subsides into anxiety again. “You can’t convince me you got any of this legally.”
“Does it matter?”
She hesitates. “I do really like the tiara. And if you sold some of this, could I commission a gown to match?”
“Anything you want. Even a brocade bodice.”
Then a wave of guilt consumes me. The bodice.
“What?” Evie asks as my face pales.
I swallow. “We can travel to heal your scar.”
With everything else on my mind, I had forgotten about it. Gods, that makes me feel so selfish. She’s wearing a shawl up to her jaw that hides the blackened veins in her neck. Is she ashamed of it? The thought makes me want to throw up with guilt.
“We can afford the best healers now. And wherever those healers are, I’ll take you there.”
She stares down at her chest. “Oh. I suppose we can. I think I’d like that.” Then she smiles, and everything feels right again, even if that means staying home for longer.
“Want to go find Mom?” I ask her.
“I didn’t finish my chores!”
“Forget chores! We never have to do them again!”
My words must’ve sounded harsh when I meant them to be encouraging, because she pulls away from me.
“I’m sorry, Evie. It’s just been a long few weeks.”
She nods, too forgiving for me to deserve. “Maybe you can tell me about it?”
“Later.” I shove most of the treasure back into the rucksack. “This much at once will be too much of a shock for our parents.” Gods only know how Mom would react. She’d probably want to donate half of it to Elowyn’s temple or distribute it through the village.
“They might think it’s a fae trick,” Evie adds.
Right. The fae.
I hide the pack under our bed. Evie reluctantly takes off the tiara, too.
Then we walk arm-in-arm to find Mom, everything so familiar and yet so strange.
Neighbors call out to me that they’re glad I’m alright.
I wave back. Birds chirp in the trees, hoes break ground to bury garlic, and the scent of damp soil wafts around us.
Mom is in the cellar, lunging for a hen that evades her. It darts behind a barrel before Mom can grab it.
“Mom,” Evie calls out.
“Yes? I’m a little occupied with this rascal.” The hen flaps up onto a shelf. Mom wrestles it into her arms. “You can’t be finished raking already,” she says through gritted teeth as the hen fights. “Not when you’re doing Cynthia’s share, too.”
“That’s why we’re here,” Evie says.
“We’re?” Mom finally turns. Her eyes find me.
The hen escapes in a flurry of feathers and clucks as Mom’s arms fall limp.
Mom doesn’t run, but she lifts her skirt and apron to walk faster, faster, until I’m wrapped between her arms. “You worried us sick, Cynthia. You are alright, aren’t you?” She pushes me back to arm’s length and looks me over.
“I’m fine!” I grab her weathered hands and squeeze them. “I’m not hurt, or being compelled, or blackmailed. I’m perfectly safe.”
Satisfied, Mom’s worry becomes a scoff. “Then what’s your excuse for running off?”
“Cynthia made us rich!” Evie blurts.
“Maybe not so loud,” I murmur with a smile. “Join us in the house.”
Mom tuts. “I’m relieved to see you, but you must know I’ve got work to finish. And you’ve got to apologize to your poor father.”
I’m not the first farmer’s child to disappear for a month-long romp, and I won’t be the last. Anyone who does leave always returns once they run out of coin, as though an unbreakable string ties us here.
“This will be quick,” I assure her. As she follows us out of the cellar, there’s not much time to prepare her, but I have to try. “When I was at the docks getting the bezoar for Evie, someone made a business proposition with me. A lucrative one.”
“Lucrative?” Mom narrows her eyes. “In what way, exactly?”
“Just see for yourself.” I usher her inside, closing the door after the three of us enter.
Mom’s jaw drops. She slowly approaches the kitchen table, her hands trembling as she grabs a pair of diamond earrings. “These are glass, right? They must be glass.”
I can’t suppress my smile. No goblin is cheating me for them this time.
“I’ll get some more!” Evie shouts. She sprints up the stairs before I can stop her, and returns with an armful of silk cloths, necklaces, and a cane with an emerald top wedged under her armpit. She dumps it all on the table like a pile of hides.
Mom guffaws.
“Before you ask, I didn’t steal any of it.” Not by my own standards, anyway. “It was payment for the job I completed.” Also, not technically a lie. “No one will come looking for it, and none of it’s cursed.”