Two
Ywena abandoned me for the woods, preferring the quiet of the forest over the hustle and bustle of the town.
That left Vora and me to stroll down the main road ourselves.
We waved to townsfolk as they headed for market.
They were chatting happily among themselves, their laughter and conversations carrying easily in the quiet air.
The deeper into town we got, the more crammed the buildings became.
But the structures did little to block the sharp fall breeze that had come into Willowfell with us, and I buried my hands in the pockets of my overcoat.
If Vora was cold, she didn’t show it. Her gaze was focused on the winding road leading to the center of town where market was held.
Where the arch stood tall and proud, just waiting for Evers to tap into the invisible ley line and appear from seemingly thin air.
Our town was small, but more and more traveling vendors had begun to find their way to Willowfell. So when someone I didn’t know joined the boisterous throng for market, I hardly took notice. Except this time, when a woman with deeply bronzed skin knocked her elbow into my side.
“My apologies,” she said beneath her breath, a coy lilt to her words. She kept moving, allowing for only the most furtive of glances in my direction.
With a scowl, I tracked her back through the crowd until she paused at the milliner’s table. She didn’t turn to face me, but I made note of her unique hairstyle—a voluminous, textured quaff with the sides shorn close to the scalp—so I could return the gesture if I accidentally slipped later.
“Coming, Edira?” Vora called over her shoulder.
“Right behind you,” I said, abandoning the woman and my thoughts of well-placed elbow jabs.
We maneuvered through the throng of people to find Noam stationed behind a table toward the back near Lysa’s Confectionary.
There were certainly better tables to choose, but we’d grown accustomed to this one for a variety of reasons. Namely, Noam’s relationship with Lysa.
“You took your sweet time getting here. I was starting to worry,” he said.
His black overcoat was clean, his tousled hair effortlessly brushed to the side so it fell in slight waves about his dimpled face.
Since he’d started courting Lysa, there’d been a notable uptick in his desire to look presentable.
“That so?” I asked with a smirk as Vora set the cases on the table.
“I’m sure you were entirely concerned about our arrival and not at all distracted with Lysa.
” My gaze slanted to the storefront at his back, where Lysa was arranging desserts on silver platters so she could wander the crowd selling her goods.
Her honey curls were pulled back in a loose ponytail, and her periwinkle eyes lit with joy as she spied me through the window.
She gave an emphatic wave before returning her focus to her pastries.
Noam’s boyish grin said it all. “Had to bide the time somehow. Actually . . .” His words softened to a whisper as he dipped his head to my ear. “I need your eyes. Let Vora take the first shift at the table.”
My brows crept toward my hairline, but I nodded. “I doubt she’d mind taking the whole day over if I asked.”
After quickly unlatching my cases and letting Vora know I was going to browse the market with Noam, Vora happily took over the table. Noam gave her a tight hug, and then she shooed us away, a wide smile on her face.
“I hope she never leaves,” Noam said with a sigh.
“I hope she does,” I said, shaking my head. “I want her to do something more than take care of others.”
Noam chuckled. “A bit of a projection, I think.”
I opened my mouth to argue, but he draped his arm over my shoulders and steered me into the thick of the market.
Rows of tables were arranged in perfect circles around the arch, rippling outward in waves with a variety of wares.
I was both shocked and pleased to see a few tables dotted with glittering gems that had obviously been drudged up from the mine—and were being sold by the miners themselves instead of immediately being handed over to the town elders.
A few people had even gone as far as to try their hand at jewelry making, and I marveled at the polished silver and gold rings and necklaces cradling the precious stones.
I’d heard rumors that Rorik had put a stop to gem collection altogether.
Before, Orin had acted as Willowfell’s oppressive mine baron, forcing less fortunate townsfolk to dig in the perilous depths of our surrounding mountains for garnets and sapphires.
But the main prize was everjewels, a rare stone seemingly made of pure moonlight.
While they had no effect on humans, they granted Evers their immortality and were coveted by their kind.
Noam and Nohr used to pray they’d find one for the Ferngloves, so they’d be rewarded with enough coin to quit their work in the blight-infested surroundings altogether.
“What are we doing, exactly?” I asked, nudging him in the side.
Noam stalled before one of the tables littered with jewelry, and his fingers ghosted above a gold ring with a marquise diamond center stone.
It was surrounded by a halo of smaller diamonds and a few accent sapphires, and it sparkled brilliantly in the sun.
“I want to get Lysa something. A promise for our future.”
My jaw fell open. “Are you going to ask Lysa to be your wife?”
“Yes,” he said, his exhale a shaky mixture of excitement and nerves. “I’ve been eyeing this ring for weeks, but I wanted to show it to you first.”
“Noam.” I threw my arms around his wide torso and buried my face into his chest. “I’m so happy for you.”
Tears pricked at the backs of my eyes. For so long I’d fought to keep both him and Nohr safe and happy.
I’d practically raised them and worked myself to the bone to do it.
To see them both finding their own versions of happiness .
. . it was all I had ever wanted. I would do anything for them. I nearly died for them.
And I’d do it all again without question if I ever had to.
“Love you,” I murmured as I stood on my tiptoes and planted a quick kiss on Noam’s cheek.
He squeezed me tighter before releasing me.
Then he offered a dazzling smile to the jewelry merchant as he pointed to the ring and offered a sack full of gold pieces in exchange.
Noam carefully cupped the piece in its small, velvety box and stared at his gift.
“Don’t say anything yet. I still need to plan the proposal. ”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” I’d never seen Noam like this. It filled me to the brim with a sense of relief, knowing that if Death did come calling tomorrow, at least he’d have someone else to lean on. Someone else to make him smile.
But the longer I stared at that box, at the promise of Noam’s future, a mixture of grief and jealousy panged my heart.
I thought I had found bliss like that with Orin.
I’d been so unbelievably wrong, and I was left with a peculiar hollowness in my chest that seemed to grow when I witnessed other people in love.
I’d never have what Noam had. I’d never cared before, but I couldn’t deny the sliver of want that now stirred within me.
“You go back to Lysa and Vora,” I said as I batted his arm. “I’m going to browse for a minute.”
“Oh, grab some of those candles Vora likes. She burned the last one down to the wick the other day and hasn’t replaced it.” Noam shoved his ring into his coat pocket.
“Will do.” I waved and he did the same, turning back the way we came. Back toward his bride-to-be.
Maybe one day . . . But no, it was foolish to think like that.
Not with so few of my threads left. I walked slowly through the crowd and a few townsfolk offered heartfelt greetings as they passed, but I was mostly left to my own thoughts.
It wasn’t until I hit the candle stand that I saw her: the woman from earlier, lingering a few tables down and inspecting medicines outside of Milton’s Apothecary.
This time when her gaze swung toward me, she didn’t look away. I found myself rooted in place.
Ever. She had to be. I’d never seen a more stunning woman in all my life.
Her eyes were the color of storm clouds before they broke, perfectly complementing the warm tone of her bronzed skin.
Her hair was a rich, dark brown so deep it bordered on black.
Her button nose was pierced on either side, and a thin silver lip ring cupped her full lower lip.
As she held my gaze, she grazed her chin with delicate fingers that ended in pointed black nails.
But what was most eye-catching was the tattoo wrapping the length of her slender neck.
It looked like an upside-down pine tree forest, with spindly, delicate roots twining toward her jaw and tiered branches heavy with leaves dipping toward her collarbone.
She tilted her chin upward by way of acknowledgment as a group of townsfolk passed in front of her, and then she was gone.
Ringing crested in my ears as I straightened.
She wasn’t a Waterstone or Starglen, that much I knew.
My mind whirred as I imagined the sprawling lineage chart included in Fable or Fact: A History of Evers.
It’d been months since I’d read it, and there had been so many Ever families.
Which one did she belong to? And why was she here? Unease trickled through my limbs.
My gaze never left the spot where the Ever had appeared, but she didn’t return.
There hadn’t even been a whisper of magic in the air, but I doubt I would have been able to detect even the faintest aroma with the array of candles perfuming the space before me.
The veil underneath the arch hadn’t activated, either.
A dull ache simmered behind my eyes, and I rubbed my temples.
Hallucination? She’d seemed so real. But then again, so had Death earlier that morning.
Sighing, I tipped my head back toward the sky.
The nettling chill was a welcome reprieve, and I prayed it chased away the early foothold this headache was trying to find.
Whatever the case, the Ever—if she even existed at all—was gone now.
I made quick work of selecting some candles for Vora and then headed back to our stall. Noam had stepped away to help Lysa pass out treats, but they were already on their way back, empty platters in hand.
“Finished already?” I asked with a nod toward her hands.
“Yes, thanks to this one,” she said as Noam held out his own gleaming tray, which was empty save for a few errant crumbs.
“Happy to help.” Noam beamed. “Speaking of, Vora, Edira, need me to do anything for the table?”
My headache throbbed, and I rubbed my temples. “Actually, I think I might call it early.”
Vora immediately stiffened. “Did something happen?”
“No, no.” I waved her off. “Just haven’t been able to shake this headache all morning.”
She sucked on her teeth as she leveled me with a look of disapproval. “And you still insisted on market? Edira, you’ll be the death of me.”
“I thought the fresh air would help. Consider me properly chastised.”
Vora waited for a full three breaths so I would be forced to endure the weight of her stare, and then she relented with a sigh. “I’ll pack up. Let’s get you home.”
“I’ve got to stay open for a few more hours, but maybe we could all have dinner together once I’m off?” Lysa glanced between us. “I’ll help Vora prepare the food. You won’t have to lift a finger, Edira.”
I couldn’t help but bristle. “I can—”
“That’s so kind of you, Lysa,” Vora said, cutting me off with a look as she latched the cases shut. “Maybe you could bring some pastries to go along with coffee after.”
“Of course,” she said with a smile.
Noam slung his arm around her waist and pulled her close, nuzzling the top of her head with his nose. “I’ll be back to pick you up when you’re done.”
A faint blush bloomed across her cheeks, and she playfully swatted at his chest. “Great.”
She tipped her head toward him. Noam pinned her chin with his forefinger and thumb and gave her a chaste kiss.
Again, a flicker of longing twined through me, but I chased it away with an eye roll.
Noam grabbed the cases from Vora, and then we were off.
Market was far from winding down, and there were still plenty of patrons milling among the booths.
Vora and Noam bantered with each other about the weight of my cases, Noam pretending to be burdened by their load while Vora laughed at his antics.
I trailed a few feet behind them, thankful for the part they made in the crowd.
Once we reached the main road veering away from market, I cast one last look at the stalls and Milton’s Apothecary.
There, twirling a slender vial of some mystery medication between her fingers with practiced ease, stood the Ever woman.
Her grin nearly split her face in half, and she winked.
I stilled as a chill raced down my back.
This time when a group of patrons passed her, I kept my eyes peeled for any trace of magic.
My heart hammered in my ears as I waited, and like before, she seemingly disappeared into thin air.
In her place was a gruff man with dark hair haggling with Milton over a remedy in his hands.
There and gone, like an apparition or a hallucination that refused to be ignored.
My stomach knotted, and I quickly scoured the diminishing crowd only to come up empty-handed.
The headache that had been creeping around my hairline fully spread down to the base of my spine, and I blew out a harsh sigh.
I needed to get home and rest. But as I turned on my heel, I couldn’t shake the feeling that she was more than an illusion, and no amount of sleep or remedies would chase her out of my life.