6. Straws to Grasp
Sleep had been fitful after speaking to Eth. That second plan that had begun to form relied too greatly upon chance. My dreaming mind stumbled as it sought to solve the puzzle, like a drunkard failing to lace his boots. Nightmares like skittering things danced around me, never settling, taunting me.
Restless and waking eager to move forward, I stretched my aching limbs, warming myself with movement. Quietly slipping from the room, my walk to the edge of town was invigorating, washing my mind of the dreaming darkness. I greeted the sun as it rose over the sloping fields east of the village; its brilliant reflection on the Maadal Sea just beyond seemed a dying ruby flame, rays bleached white as the orb rose higher in its arc. I waited, hoping the light would illuminate new thoughts as it penetrated my skin. Show me. Show me anything that will help me.
I inhaled a deep breath, the cool air stinging my lungs. This little moment of peace was needed. I dropped my chin as the breath left me, lifting my eyes to the horizon one last time. Time to start the day.
The night”s chill still occupied the small stable where Bordus waited for me to give him his hay, but the warmth of the morning light banished the frost with its touch. While he had his breakfast, I made quick and quiet trips from the inn, packing our sparse belongings into the wagon for the day”s journey.
Gingel had drawn Arit up to her in the cramped bed, and I let them sleep, making no sounds as I gathered armfuls of food and bedding. They looked less than comfortable in the arrangement but slumbered still. My gaze lingered too long, dredging up a host of feelings I”d been ignoring.
It filled my heart with joy to see them together. They both deserved so much more happiness than the world had offered them. I wasn”t jealous of them, but my words with Eth last night had opened the door to a painful chapter of my life. There was a twinge of mourning for the life I should have wanted, should have had, but would never be. I was not yet one and twenty, but there was a solid feeling of certainty that I”d never marry. Never have a family. That thought hadn”t vexed me for some time.
With Bordus” belly filled and the wagon hitched, all that remained was to rouse them. The warm aroma of freshly baked bread flirted with my own empty belly as I entered the tavern once more, and I begged half a loaf from the busy barmaid. Tearing off a small piece to savor, I smiled as I slipped into the room. I could think of no more pleasant method of waking a person than with the delicious smell of food. Waving it over them, I waited as they stirred. I couldn”t help but giggle at the transformation of their sleeping faces when they realized food awaited them.
”Come. You can eat in the wagon. It will take most of the day to reach Slivin, and we need to be off the main road before dark.” I moved to prepare Gingel”s concoction. ”Drink this.”
”How much longer will I need to take this? I don”t like how it makes me feel,” she said as she sat up, drinking with a scowl. I furrowed my brow as I considered telling her the truth about her condition.
Would it cause her too much anxiety, or would she take it as truth and understand what we needed to do?
”Sweet girl, you need to understand that your leg will not heal on its own. It will require the services of a very expensive, experienced healer. It might even be beyond...” I hesitated. She was a delicate soul. I couldn”t see her reacting well to the idea that she might lose the leg below the knee. I didn”t even know if that would save her at this point.
”Beyond what?” Arit asked. The fear in his eyes told me he had guessed it.
”It doesn”t matter. We are going to find the healer, and all will be well. I promise.” The lie came easy and tasted bitter. I rose quickly and made for the door, afraid my face would tell the truth.
”Everything is packed. We have only to depart.”
Restful sleep finally found me on the road south. It shouldn”t have, rough as the road was. But my mind had finally surrendered once Arit had us on our way. I was thankful for the rest, knowing I needed a sharpness of thought to navigate what awaited us in Slivin.
I had been wavering between a certainty of hope and despair. The information I needed seemed like a jeweled ring tossed into a deep pond. It was there. It existed. But I feared bad luck and lack of time might push it out of my reach, rendering it as useless to me as if it never existed in the first place. Still, I was determined to dive into that pond and rake my fingers through the silt to find what I needed.
Taking the reins for the second half of the day, I kept a wary eye on the surroundings. It was easy to feel safe on this road, but I was still on edge. There was less traffic this time of year, everyone making their winter preparations and storing the last of the harvest. My hope was that fewer travelers meant bandits had moved farther south with the merchants.
It was easy to be distracted by the fresh, open feeling out here. Reaped fields and grass pastures formed a wide border to my left, the expanse of the sea barely visible beyond them. To my right, the quick rise of hills and forest shrouded the feet of the eternally snowcapped mountains.
Once we arrived at Slivin, we might be treated to a glimpse of the red glow of the Bergafas at night, beyond the peaks, deep in the west. I remembered seeing smoke from the mountain of fire when we passed through several years ago. I”d been disappointed we didn”t take the time to at least get a peek at the black rock spewing liquid fire, but it would have been an impossibly dangerous detour for two girls on the run.
Passing through a denser stretch of forest near the end of our journey, I set Arit on watch. With the sun tucked behind the peaks now, the shadows wanted to play tricks on my eyes. Bordus hastened his pace, not willing to stay in the space any longer than I did. I thought it strange that there were full stands of untouched moarberries a stone”s throw from the road, but we couldn”t be bothered to stop.
Making the final turn, Arit and I both relaxed as the sprawling township of Slivin lay before us. The wagon lurched forward slightly as its weight shifted downhill. Bordus shook his head as it strained against his harness, his gait slower as he strove to keep a safe pace. From this angle, Slivin appeared as a giant hand, grasping the thin bay that slithered in from the sea. Settlements expanded along the north and south shores eastward, creeping closer to the sea.
There was no healer here who could help us for any amount of money. No, there was something else here, that treasure lost in the pond. Somewhere in that town lived a woman who had cheated death. All my hopes were pinned on finding her.
As before, we stopped first at the most affordable inn we could find on the north end. Arit and Gingel were eager to be stationary, the trip long and taxing. The bed in this room was larger than the last, and I left them to rest. We had nearly exhausted the paupolet, and the hunt was on for an apothecary.
The sun must have set below the horizon behind the mountains; now, the sparse clouds above me had changed from white to shadow. Quickening my pace to the market, I didn”t relish spending more time in this unfamiliar place at night. I believed I had nearly missed my window when the booth came into view. The apothecary, husband and wife partners who could not be more different in appearance, were closing up shop as I approached.
”Please, please, I just need a vial of paupolet. It”s for my sister,” I said, hoping to sound as pathetic as necessary. The short, plump woman turned to me, her flame-red ringlets bouncing over her shoulder. Her face had been kind once. Smile lines don”t lie, but her stare was cold.
”All done for the day, lovey,” she said, exhausted but firm.
”Come now, Evris. There”s no need to be uncharitable.” Her husband, the very definition of tall and thin, produced a small vial from a crate. He looked at me, brushing his straight black hair from his forehead, tucked behind his ear. ”Forgive us. It has been a long day. Everyone is stocking up on remedies before the snow comes.”
I handed him my coin. ”Thank you. I”ve only just arrived in town.”
”What are you treating? You shouldn”t use it for more than a week. She might become addicted to it.”
My eyes were downcast for but a moment, and I couldn”t help but feel like it didn”t matter how long she took it. If I couldn”t find the remedy soon, her addiction would serve only to ease her passing. Her passing. I shook my head.
”I know how to use it. Addiction is the least of my worries. But I appreciate your concern. Good evening to you both.” I smiled and retraced my path back to the inn in haste.
In the darkness, I wondered if I would be able to find the small home I had entered only once, years ago. That house was the first piece of the puzzle. My memory was one of my strongest assets, but time was running out. I couldn”t waste a second. Reduced to only following the plan of action I had plotted in my mind, I feared tomorrow would bring hope or a reluctant acceptance that there was nothing to be done.
Tomorrow, I dive.