Chapter 9 #3
“I see.” The teacup rattles as Juniper sets it on the saucer. “I suppose there is only one thing a Fae soldier would want with a renowned mortal healer.”
She stands and shuffles out of the room. I rise and follow, frowning when she kneels on the floor by the fireplace. Her joints crack.
“Juniper?” I rush forward. “What are you doing?”
“Getting you information.” She takes the fire poker and, with a grunt, wedges it between two planks tucked against the wall.
My jaw drops when one of the planks pops free with a sudden snap.
I lean over her shoulder and gape at the dusty opening. “What is that?”
“Don’t tell me you’re surprised I have secrets.” She looks at me with a twinkle in her eyes, then reaches into the mysterious hole.
My mind is thrown back in time to when I first began studying the healing arts. How Juniper would grin and nod encouragingly as I brewed medicines from her recipes—how her eyes would sparkle when my blossoming magic trickled out when she brought me along to visit her patients.
The woman who raised me didn’t fear magic like others in Verdanthia. She encouraged me and Ferria to practice our powers. She called us miracles.
When I think about it, she’s right; I shouldn’t be surprised she has secrets. Gods know she’s an expert at keeping them.
Juniper removes a dingy brown sack the size of my palm from the hole in the floor and sets it down with care. Then she reaches back in and pulls out a thick, dusty tome. She wipes the surface with her apron.
Her arms tremble as she holds out the book. “I believe this may help you.”
My skin prickles as I take the book, holding Juniper’s gaze. Her expression is relaxed, but her eyes… There’s something she’s not saying. Some expectation she carries.
I look at the cover. Gold filigree adorns the leather, reminiscent of the fairy tales Lev smuggled out of his family’s private library for me and Ferria to read as kids. I trace the lovely scrawl, then run my fingers over the text embossed in the center.
The words are in a language I’ve never seen, and I immediately know why.
I whip my head up and find Juniper standing, watching me with a sly grin.
I gasp. “How?”
“Your parents.”
My chest tightens.
Juniper rarely talks about my parents. The man and woman who gave Ferria and me life left us in Juniper’s care just after our fourth birthday. They were on the run from humans who had discovered their magic, and they feared for our safety.
How they managed to avoid leading them to their friend in Verdanthia, I’ll never know. I don’t even know how they and Juniper knew each other.
But I do know that less than a moon cycle later, word reached town that soldiers had caught and executed two known magic users hiding in the Forbidden Forest. Ferria and I have lived with Juniper ever since.
But now Juniper has handed me a forbidden Fae text and mentioned my dead parents in the same breath. And the reality I’ve come to know shifts beneath me.
My heart thrums. “What is this?”
“That, I do not know.” She glances at the tome, lips pursed. “I cannot read it.”
I bite the inside of my cheek and balance the book in one hand. Holding my breath, I lift the front cover. The pages are thick, made of quality parchment. The unknown number of years under the floorboard has not marred the pristine, vivid ink spread across each page.
I scan the unfamiliar words, take in the vibrant images of sprawling homes, stunning crests, until, finally, I reach a page that renews my fading hope.
A golden, leafy plant. One leaf in a mortar and pestle. A flask over an open flame. It’s a recipe of some kind.
For what? I don’t know. I don’t even recognize the plant. But whatever I need to help the cursed Fae wouldn’t be something I recognize.
A smile crawls across my face.
Juniper hums.
I look up and see her smiling at me. “There’s my resilient girl.”
I close the book and hold it against my chest. “Why would my parents leave this book with you?”
“They didn’t. They left it with you and your sister.”
I grip the book tighter. “And you have no idea why?”
She shakes her head. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”
I shove the disappointment down before it can take root. “That’s okay. I’ll figure it out.”
Her smile returns, soft and encouraging. “I know you will.”
I huff a weak laugh, the sound hollow even to my own ears. “I just need to figure out how to read it first.”
“Given that the Fae want your help, I’m sure they’d be willing to translate it,” she says.
I shift my feet, feeling the hard floor press through the thin soles of my worn flats. “Maybe.”
But a louder, insistent voice inside me demands I keep this tome a secret.
I’ll take a day or two to try and read the book on my own. If I fail, then I’ll ask the Fae for help. Jaxon, most likely. He’s the least terrifying of the males camped out in the Forbidden Forest.
Magic tingles in my palms in silent approval.
Juniper uses the fire poker to slide the wooden plank back into place and presses her foot on the edge to make it flat.
“What is that?” I nod at the small bag remaining on the floor.
“An heirloom I’ve been meaning to have cleaned.” She grunts and hunches to grab the bag.
She straightens and tucks the sack into her apron pocket.
I follow her back to the kitchen table, where she sits with a relieved groan.
My forehead furrows. “Do you need more willowsbark?”
The pain-relieving root is hard to come by these days, but it’s the only treatment that manages to numb the discomfort in Juniper’s joints.
“I have plenty.” She waves a dismissive hand. “Do not worry about me.”
“Impossible.” I walk over and press a kiss to her head. “Thank you for the book.”
She takes my hand. “Of course. I hope it helps you with your predicament.”
“Me too.” I squeeze her hand gently. “I should go home. Try to study before the Fae come for me again.”
“Go.” She drops my hand. “But take care about who sees that book. The Elders won’t be pleased to learn you have such a text in your possession.”
At the end of the Shadow Wars, the Fae king demanded that humans destroy all records of Fae. In a desperate bid to avoid invoking the Shadow King’s wrath, Verdanthians complied with frightening obedience.
“I will,” I vow, backing toward the door. “I’ll come back as soon as I can.”
“Good luck, my dear.”
I take a spare shawl from the hook by the front door and wrap it around the book before tucking the forbidden item under my arm.
Excitement lightens my steps as I hop the stepping stones down Juniper’s path.
Pictures are worth a thousand words. Even if I can only decipher the book's images, I’m sure to learn a plethora of new information—information that could not only help me fulfill my debt with the Fae, but might also help me treat my neighbors with new herbs or remedies.
The possibilities are endless. The Gods are smiling on me.
I must visit the temple soon. I’ve never been devout, but I will utter words of praise and thanks to all six Gods if there’s a chance their blessings will help me save Verdanthia.
I’m halfway home when a sudden weight drapes over my shoulders like an unnatural cloak. I freeze, my spine stiffening, and snap my head toward the tree line. My heart thunders.
Nothing moves. There’s no sound. But I know something watches me.
Something. Not someone.
A chill dances over my skin as the presence sharpens. Its attention slides over me—lingering, curious—before the pressure settles on my arm clutching the tome.
I suck in a breath and spin around to flee.
Behind me, a soft, taunting chuckle ripples through the air, and it haunts me all the way home.