27
S he raised a thick brow. “What do you need that for?”
“Do you have it?”
“Yes.” She looked like she was going to object, but got up from her seat nonetheless to a shelf of spherical terrariums. There was a secret compartment underneath, from which she handed me a folded piece of paper.
“What do you need it for?” she asked again, but I had already crossed the beaded curtain.
Sudden knocking at the front door stopped me in my tracks.
“Open up. Royal business.”
Miriam walked over. She peered out of the narrow slot, then withdrew with a frown. “I really hope this has nothing to do with you.”
I didn’t answer as she opened the door. Soldiers dressed in the purple of the Royal Guard marched in, towering over the witch’s short frame. If Miriam was intimidated, she didn’t show it.
“Hello, gentlemen. May I interest you in some snails? Buy two and get a terrarium free.”
The leader, a man with a very long nose and large feet, motioned for the other guards. Three of them began to search the shop.
“We’re here to look for evidence of witches or witch-related items,” he said, looking down at her. “Meanwhile, I need you to answer some questions. Have you come into contact with any witches recently or in the past few months?”
Miriam gasped. “Witches? My goodness, sir! You don’t expect an old woman like me to meet any witches and survive the encounter,” she said, pulling her shawls tighter around her shoulders. “I merely sell my little pets for a living.”
The guard looked around the room, cringing visibly. No doubt he was thinking the same thoughts I had when I first stepped foot in Miriam’s shop. “I see. Then do you have any useful information about the whereabouts of the Witch Market?”
She pressed her fingers to her lips. “You mean that awful place where curses and poisons are bottled and sold like raspberry jam?”
“That’s right.”
“I assure you, sir, if I knew anything of it, I’d go to the authorities straight away,” Miriam said, looking earnestly at the guard. “I do not sleep easy knowing there are witches out there selling such heinous things.”
The guard grunted and shook his head. “Unfortunately, it is the world we live in, madam,” he said.
I figured why Miriam was made guardian—she was an impeccable actress. As the guard asked her another question, I inched toward the doorway, desperate to leave. I had been gone for longer than I wanted. No doubt Karen already tattled to Narcissa about my absence.
But as I was about to cross the threshold, I came face to face with Ash.
His eyes widened. “What are you doing here?” he said, walking into the shop.
I took a step back, too surprised to talk.
“Your Highness,” the guard said, bowing. “I was questioning this shop owner.” He darted a glance at me. “Er, I will question her next.”
Ash took my arm, his fingers burning through my sleeve. “No need. She’s with me.”
Miriam’s jaw fell as she looked from me to Ash. I avoided her questioning gaze and followed him outside. There were several horses waiting on the cobblestone with another guard. Ash led me to a lamp post, far enough to prevent eavesdropping.
“What are you doing here?” he repeated. The lamp light cast harsh shadows across his features.
“I...I was shopping for a snail,” I said. It was a horrible lie. No one in their right mind would buy anything from Miriam’s shop.
“You’ve been crying.”
I lowered my head. “I haven’t.”
“Amarante.” Ash took my shoulders, forcing me to look at him. “Why won’t you tell me what’s wrong?”
I moved away with a laugh, my cheeks aching from the fraudulence. “Nothing is wrong. I didn’t find a snail I like, that’s all.”
He didn’t smile. “Last night and now this. You’re worrying me.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, turning around. “Listen, I have to go. ”
Ash grabbed my hand, squeezing my knuckles as he did so. I sucked in a breath. My reaction did not go unnoticed.
“What is this?” he said, staring at the welts on the back of my hand. They had not yet healed from yesterday’s raps.
Before I could come up with an excuse, Ash pushed up my sleeve and revealed the angry red scratches I had acquired in the past week.
I yanked my arm away. “It’s nothing. I fell this morning.” The lie came smoothly, but my throat seized at his expression.
“Let me see your other arm,” he said, stepping forward.
I stepped back as he advanced, holding both my arms behind my back. Narcissa’s initials were still scratched on my other hand. I didn’t think Ash would take long to figure out that “NW” didn’t actually stand for northwest.
“I promise it’s nothing,” I said, but Ash looked determined. My back hit a wall of a building.
“If it’s nothing, why are you hiding it?” he demanded.
I didn’t expect the moisture that sprung to my eyes. I wanted to tell Ash that nothing had gone right after my meeting with the duchess. But I knew if I did, he would have no wish to help me. I blinked, feeling hot tears run down my face.
Ash looked taken aback. He stepped away. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you—”
I shook my head. “Can you trust me?”
His eyes softened. “I do trust you.”
“Then understand I have my reasons. I...I want to go home.” My voice broke. I missed Theodora and Rowena and poking fun at our neighbors with Genevieve. I missed when all I worried about was filling up time. I even missed Lydia’s ramblings .
Ash pulled me into a hug. I buried my face into his shoulder and sobbed like a baby. His scent of evergreen and peppermint was a comforting familiarity in a sea of confusion.
“I’ll take you home,” he said.
“No. I’ll take a horse chaise.”
“Fine. But mark my words, I will find out what’s wrong,” he said. After a second, he gently kissed my knuckles and left.
Ash’s words repeated themselves in my head as I rolled down the street in the horse chaise. His kiss burned the back of my hand like a promise—a promise I hoped he wouldn’t keep.
My eyes were swollen when I leaned over and told the driver to switch our route to the palace. He turned the horse around, reentering the outskirts of the city from the opposite side.
It was so late by the time I returned that I didn’t bother to check back in with Karen. The only thing that mattered now was setting things right.
I had to fix Lana’s mistake no matter what it took. She was wrong about humans, especially Ash. He needed my help.
I looked over the recipe Miriam gave me. The directions seemed simple enough, but it would take three days to make. Most of the ingredients could be acquired in an herb garden, but several of them I would have to beg off Miriam.
The next morning, I rose early and stuffed my pockets with sage and rosemary from the cook’s herb garden. Madam Josephine seemed surprised to see me on time as I passed the servants’ hall on the way to Narcissa’s chambers. I did my chores in silence as Karen boasted about her new ring. I wasn’t even upset when Narcissa left me nothing but a few crumbs of bread for dinner.
After dropping off her dishes in the scullery, I picked out a small pot that still had remnants of vegetable stew and smuggled it into my room. The leftovers served as my dinner. I slept easier that night knowing that in a few short days, I’d make the duchess confess her crimes and finally be freed from servitude.
I readied the brick oven in my room with a grate and a few coals I had stolen the next day. For the small pot, I fashioned a wire handle so it could hang like a witch’s cauldron. The day after that, I paid a visit to Miriam.
“You want what?” the witch asked, frowning at me through her gauzy veil.
“Pheender leaves,” I said. “Do you have any?”
Miriam snorted. “You think I have something as expensive as that lying around? And what do you need it for anyway? To make someone vomit?”
More specifically, to make someone vomit words. I suspected she was feigning ignorance. She herself had given me a potion recipe a few days before. After pestering her for half an hour and even offering to purchase a snail, Miriam finally gave in.
“Fine! I’ll get you everything you need,” she said, scowling. “But you owe me an explanation. For everything.”
I sighed. “Only if you promise not to tell anyone,” I said, sinking into a pouf. “The truth potion is for the duchess.”
I explained helping Ash with the case, the framing of Captain Greenwood, and how the duchess found out I was a witch and forced me to be a scullery maid for her daughter.
Miriam threw back her veil when I finished. “All this time you were in trouble and you didn’t say anything?” She looked livid.
“I am now,” I said in a small voice.
She shook her head. “What you need to do is ask your aunt for the manbane antidote.”
“So,” I said with a frown, “you know Lana created manbane.”
Miriam sighed. “I do. And I understand how you must be feeling, but Amarante, your aunt isn’t the same witch she was when she made that potion.”
“She is not my aunt.”
“Fine,” Miriam said after a moment of glaring. “Since you insist on being stubborn, I have something that might postpone the effects of manbane for a few days.”
She rummaged through a hidden compartment underneath a chest of drawers and pulled out a familiar container. It was the general antidote I had given her so many weeks ago, untouched.
“Lana makes the best of the best,” she said when I made a face.
I took it with a sigh. It seemed that I couldn’t escape Lana even if I tried.
That same night, I began making the truth potion, pouring every bit of my focus into it. I lost hours of sleep sitting beside my makeshift potion room, fanning the coals to the right temperature and snuffing out embers before something blew up. My only companions were the occasional mice and roaches that scurried through the poorly patched holes along the walls. I was too tired to be disgusted by them.
My knuckles suffered extra raps the next morning for my lethargy. I told myself that every bruise was worth it as Karen fawned over a new necklace. If things went my way, her jewelry box would never be filled to the brim.
On the third night, I ran into a problem. The recipe required a hair from the person forced to tell the truth.
I had to find a way to acquire a strand of Duchess Wilhelmina’s hair.
MY CHANCE CAME WHEN Karen decided to take advantage of Narcissa’s frequent absences.
“I have an appointment in the city,” she said. She was dressed in a fine gown, adorned with all the jewelry she had earned since I began working. “If you peep a word about it to milady, I will tell her you’ve been careless with your work.”
I was all too glad to see her leave and even wished her a good afternoon. If only mine could be as enjoyable.
I dropped the mop I was using somewhat reluctantly. The duchess’s suite was right beside Narcissa’s, easily accessible through a shared door near the fireplace. Narcissa used it frequently to visit her mother. I knew for a fact it was always unlocked. That made the first part of my job easy.
Now came the difficult part—actually going inside.
The duchess’s schedule was a mystery to me, though I never took her as a woman who lounged among her wealth all day. I pressed my ear against the door and waited. When no sound came, I slipped in. The chamber was empty. I began to search.
Finding a strand of hair in a very large, well-kept suite proved to be a difficult task. There wasn’t a speck of dust on the furniture or a streak of dirt on the floor. I looked under pillows and cushions and rugs .
Not a single hair in sight.
After overturning the living space, I mustered up the courage to enter the duchess’s bedroom. It was ridiculously lavish like everything else in the suite, furnished with a canopied bed, a polished mahogany vanity, and a large armoire with a full-length mirror. The scent of soap in the air told me the bed sheets had been freshly laundered.
I scowled at the pristine pillows and set to work on the vanity drawers. But drawer after drawer was filled with brooches and rouge and powder.
At last, I found a golden hairbrush at the bottom. I nearly crumpled with relief. The bristles were full of brassy red hair. Pulling off a clump, I stuffed it into my pocket.
Just as I celebrated my success, a hiss came from the doorway.
I dropped the hairbrush, sending a perfume bottle crashing to the floor.
Misty stalked into the room, her back arched and tail stiff in the air.
I backed into the vanity.
The cat continued toward me. Her acid green eyes were more unsettling than usual. There was a glint of intelligence in them, right beside the more obvious glint of malevolence.
The corner of the vanity dug into my lower back.
“Good kitty,” I said, trying to shoo her away. My voice was horribly shaky and only seemed to agitate her further. Was my hard work doomed to be destroyed by a cat?
Misty pounced.
Sharp claws pierced through my dress, biting into my shins. I shrieked and tried to shake the feline off, but only kicked drawers open. Glass bottles and jewelry flew out like cannonballs. Misty scrambled up my legs. Before her fangs could sink into my arm, I flung her onto the bed .
She landed amongst the pillows, hissing. Instead of attacking again, she turned her tail up and fled the room.
I stared open-mouthed at the chaos that marred the once immaculate room. Shattered glass bottles glittered from the tiles like hazardous snow, dotted with sapphire necklaces and diamond brooches. A pot of rouge had overturned on the rug, staining the brocade a bright poppy red. A deep dent scarred a drawer I kicked away, the wood splintered.
Sweat pooled into my palms. The duchess would no doubt know someone had intruded.
After making sure the commotion didn’t bring anyone inside, I cleaned up the best I could, shoving the drawers back in and throwing the glass shards out the window. The rest I swept under the rug. I hoped the gardener wouldn’t notice the broken perfume bottles in his pansies.
When I exited, Misty was pacing before the door that led back to Narcissa’s chambers. She arched her back when I took a step toward her. I shuddered, turning to the exit instead. I’d rather risk the short trek down the hallway than another round of feline attack.
I slipped out, noticing too late that I had company. And this time it wasn’t a cat.
“This is the girl I was talking about, Sir Hughes,” Narcissa said, crossing her arms. Behind her were four armed guards and a smug-looking Karen. “She is the thief.”