Chapter 3
‘Rose! Where were you? I was worried.’
So much for hoping Kay would sleep through my third and final night outing. I open my mouth, a lie already forming on my tongue.
‘I take it you also heard the screaming?’ she says. ‘It was Evelina, next door, wasn’t it? I saw the cloaks going in there this morning. I fear the worst.’
It’s the middle of the night, and she likely barely slept, yet my sister is still the most exquisitely beautiful young woman I’ve ever seen.
Even with starvation hollowing her cheeks and the same white-blonde hair that we share, she’s radiant.
But her beauty is more than skin deep. With all that we’ve lost and the hateful lies spewed about our family, you’d expect her to be bitter.
But she’s still so innocent. So hopeful.
It’s why I give over half the brews I make to Rula and her protection racket – to make sure Kay stays like that.
‘I’ll take a tonic round to Evelina,’ I reply, relieved to have dodged an interrogation.
I walk over to the small stove to retrieve a pan of the pain-relieving brew I left simmering before I left and decant it into five meagre vials.
I suppress a sigh. If I give one vial of the elixir to Evelina and two to Rula, that only leaves two for sale on the black market.
The good news is that prices are high at the moment; the bad news is that it’s because people are dying.
And given that the people who are forced to pay the high prices have as little as we do, I can’t – won’t – ask them to pay any more than usual.
So two vials aren’t going to garner anywhere near enough to buy the type of weapon I’ll need to survive the Retterheld if Etta accepts me.
‘By the Mother!’ Kay gasps as her gaze suddenly narrows on me. ‘What’s happened to your hand?’
My pulse soars. Did I not do a good enough job of cleaning my fingers? Has she spied a speck of black ash on my skin? But then she grabs me by the wrist and twists so that my palm is facing up, revealing the deep cut.
‘It’s nothing,’ I lie. ‘I was just careless.’ I hurriedly take my hand back, just in case she notes the remnants of ash beneath my nails. ‘The edge of the pan was sharper than I thought.’
Her frown remains in place a moment longer.
‘It’s not nothing,’ she says finally. ‘It needs stitches.’
‘Later. I need to get this tonic to Evelina, and you need to get some sleep. You’re working tomorrow, right?’
It’s difficult for anyone to get work in the slums, but Kay’s job is part of the agreement I have with Rula. I keep giving Rula tonics for free, and Kay spends her days looking after children in the fifth ring, thinking that scoring her job was a stroke of luck, allowing us to land on our feet.
Landing on our feet. It’s enough to make me cry. Were we still living in the High Hold, she would be fighting off proposals from dukes, lords, and maybe even a prince. Instead, we live in utter squalor.
The gifting is the only chance I have to return her to the life she truly deserves.
‘I think there will be six children tomorrow,’ Kay replies. ‘And Losarah said she will pay me with flour from the mill. We usually get far more that way than when she pays me in loaves, so we’ll eat well tomorrow.’
My stomach growls. Eating well isn’t something I can recall doing since my father died, but for once we might not have to go to bed to the sound of our hollow stomachs crying out.
Kay sets a hand on her hip. ‘Stop trying to distract me,’ she scolds. ‘You’re not going anywhere until that wound is stitched up. And if you don’t do it, I will.’
This time I take her threat seriously. Though she’s talented at many things, her sewing’s even worse than her brewing.
If I let her do it, I won’t be able to use that hand for days, if not weeks, and from the satisfied smile tugging at her lips, she knows I know it.
Luckily, the cut is on my non-dominant hand.
Ten teeth-gritting minutes later, the wound is stitched and covered in a salve of my own creation. I show her my neat repair work and she nods, finally happy to let me go.
‘Make sure you block the door properly when I’m gone,’ I say over my shoulder.
She rolls her eyes. ‘I will, Rose. Give Evelina my love, won’t you? And ask if there’s anything else we can do for them.’
‘Of course.’ Though, truthfully, we could offer little more than what they already had. At least there’s equality in the slums, where we’re all equally fucked.
The night air somehow feels even colder now than it did when I arrived home. Frost creaks underneath my feet while clouds of smoke rise from those houses lucky enough to have fires burning inside.
I head out down the narrow pathway, and when I reach Evelina’s, I knock once, only to find the action is enough to push the door open. My chest tightens. That’s not a good omen. Leaving your door open in the slums is a sign that you have nothing left for people to take.
The room is larger than ours, although space comes at the cost of warmth.
My breath swells into soft plumes even after I’ve stepped inside.
The bed is in the corner, next to the tiny fire, and thick layers of fur and wool rise and fall softly.
Corem is sitting with his body bent over his wife, so hunched that all I can see is a small slice of his back.
The sound of muffled sobbing reaches my ears and my stomach twists.
‘Corem?’ My voice is soft, barely a whisper. ‘I brought a tonic for Evelina. Kay told me the priestesses were here today. I trust they eased her suffering?’
Corem’s back straightens and his hands move to his cheeks, wiping away tears.
‘Rose?’ He faces me, forcing a smile that only succeeds in highlighting the weariness and despair in his eyes. ‘Thank you. Yes, the cloaks came. Three of the sisters.’
Three being one of the holy numbers, the cloaks always came in threes if they could.
‘And?’ I don’t know why I say the word expectantly.
Like I’m hoping he will tell me Evelina’s fever will pass, that the priestesses wove their tendrils of magic around her body and lifted the sickness straight from her soul.
Because I already know that isn’t what he will say.
Our wretched souls don’t get the same treatment as those at the High Hold.
‘Tomorrow, they will take her.’ His voice breaks. ‘Cleanse her body for the burning.’
‘There is nothing more that can be done?’ I try to hide the shock that shoots through me. ‘You do not wish to wait longer? Wait until…?’ Until she dies. The words don’t leave my lips because they don’t have to. We both know death is all that’s left for Evelina.
Corem shakes his head. ‘They said it is best for her to be in the temple when she passes. Her soul will be in less pain that way.’ His bottom lip trembles. ‘I don’t want her to be in pain anymore.’
He’s not the first person I’ve heard say such a thing, and yet, for my mother’s sake, I pray it isn’t true.
She died in the home that we shared in the fifth ring after our fall from grace, our hands clasping hers as she drew her last breath.
We even burned her together. Dinah was the only priestess with us.
The only adult who stayed. My father had already left, choosing drink over duty before the pyre was even lit.
With effort, I quash my rising vitriol towards the man I once held in such high esteem.
‘Here.’ I stretch out my hand to offer him the vial of tonic, trying to shake away the weight of the past. ‘It will bring her some peace as she sleeps.’
Corem hesitates. ‘I cannot pay you what it is worth.’
‘I do not ask for payment,’ I say softly.
He falters a moment longer, then takes it. ‘Thank you.’ He pockets the vial before he stands and walks across the room to retrieve a bowl. ‘Here. The cloaks brought these. Take a couple. For you and Acacia. It’s all I can offer.’
Bread rolls. My stomach growls even more loudly than it did when Kay mentioned food earlier.
Every part of my body wants me to reach out and grab them, but I pause, staring at the basket.
If I take two, there’ll be just one left, meaning he and Evelina will have to share.
I’m not even sure she can eat, but if she can, I will not rob her of her last meal.
‘Thank you, but I will just take one for Acacia. I’ve eaten already,’ I lie.
Relief flashes across his face.
I want to offer to stay with him until morning, until the priestesses come, or offer to return when they take the body. But I already know he’ll refuse.
Instead, I cross to Evelina, brushing her dark, sweat-soaked hair back from her forehead. ‘Acacia sends her love,’ I murmur, but she does not stir. ‘As do I. Rest easy, Evelina.’
Her chest rattles as she breathes.
No, she does not have long now.
I silently nod to Corem as I leave. I already know there are no true words of comfort to offer the grieving.
I open the door and disappear into the frigid night, trying to fight the sting of tears behind my eyes. But it is a losing battle.
Because if there is one thing this life has taught me, it is that there is always time for more tears.