Chapter 11

E velyn set out the next morning, not long after the sun rose. Archie was still gone, so she left one of the windows at the back of the shop cracked and drew a crude map on a spare leaf of parchment, indicating the farmland and woods just beyond the harbor's wall, should he return and wonder where she'd gone off to. In Benenfar, he knew her routines and patterns so well such methods hadn't been necessary, but they were both still getting used to their new surroundings, and she knew he'd be cranky if she didn't at least make an effort to keep him informed.

As she set about her first day of truly trying to lift the blight, she felt the weight of her task on her shoulders, and adding a surly owl to her growing list of problems wouldn't help.

Despite the early hour, Evelyn stepped out into a world already humming with activity. As she joined the flow of people and wagons and carts heading toward the docks, she wondered if it was market day. She was curious to see what the open-air market looked like on this side of the city wall, but left that to be discovered another day, and kept to her original plan.

The shops on Sailcloth Row were open, and smoke spiraled from the chimneys of the shabby boarding houses, sending the aroma of cooked breakfast meats and fresh baked bread streaming into the streets. A merchant with a cart was positioned at the end of the street. At the head of the cart stood a rotund pony chewing on a mouthful of green straw while its owner sold small hand pies.

"Fresh eggs and cheese in a flaky crust!" the man called, thrusting one of the pies toward Evelyn as she passed. To his credit, the golden-brown crust did look mouth watering. "Or maybe you'd like something sweet, instead?" he suggested, changing one pie for another. "This one has the first of the season's strawberries!"

Evelyn stopped and fished into her small coin purse. "How much?" she asked.

"Three fernels for the berry, five for the egg and cheese, my good lady." The man held up one of each. "And for you… seven, if you'd like one of each!"

The pony snuffled and swatted a fly with a swipe of its tail. He'd seen this tactic before, it appeared.

Evelyn smiled and handed the eager man seven copper fernels. "Sold."

They completed the exchange and the man wrapped the pies in waxed parchment. Evelyn was surprised to find them still hot, and wondered how he'd managed to keep them warm. "Do you make them yourself?" she asked.

The man nodded. "Well, with some help from my husband, that is. He runs the bakery on Pear Street. Have you been, miss?"

"Pear Street? Is that near the plaza with the two-headed fish?"

The man nodded. "Yes!"

Evelyn smiled. "Then, in fact, I have. A lovely woman sold me a delicious roll and a blackberry tart. Both of which were wonderful."

The man hooked his thumbs under his suspenders and beamed with pride.

"Now, you said these were the season's first strawberries," she added, keeping her tone casual as she poked at the flaky crust on the one dusted with a sprinkle of coarse sugar crystals. "Do you grow them yourself?"

If the man thought the series of questions odd, it didn't show on his face. Evelyn thought him to be around her age, perhaps a bit older, with only the hints of crow's feet showing at the corners of his hazel eyes. His skin was tanned to a sun-kissed bronze, the bits of hair poking from under his knit cap the color of a raven's wing. "Oh, I wish I could take credit for them. They were little beauties!" He smiled. "But it's been hard to get good berries around here, and they don't travel well, so no one bothers to send them by ship, either. But I do a fair bit of traveling, bringing Bernard the various ingredients he needs for the bakery, and I found these in a market in Aranmore." He gestured toward it. "Go ahead, give it a try."

Evelyn did so, and the filling burst across her tongue with the sweetness of the ripe fruit as well as a hint of brown sugar. She gestured her approval and took another bite before continuing her questions. "So, the berries used to grow here? Near the harbor?"

The man nodded and fussed with the rest of the pastries in the basket. "Some say the soil's turned. Others say it's a blight. And some even say it's some sort of witch's curse."

Evelyn nearly choked on her third bite. Her eyes widened and the merchant mistook her expression for fear. "Oh, not that I believe that!" he hurried to say. "It's probably just something seasonal. I don't know. I'm not much of a farmer. I was a soldier before I met my Bernard."

There were more questions Evelyn wanted to ask, but a stream of dock workers and sailors poured out from one of the nearby boarding houses and made a beeline for the man and his stall, coins at the ready.

The man smiled and grabbed the pies still tucked in a basket, and a bit of steam escaped. "Good morning, folks! There's plenty for everyone," he called. "So, step right up. "

Evelyn nodded her thanks and took her own meal, then stepped out of the way.

Archie swooped overhead as she turned onto the main thoroughfare, and quickly came to land on her shoulder. "Are you not going to offer me so much as a sample?"

With a roll of her eyes, she held up what was left of the strawberry pie. "I assumed you would not be interested, seeing as how there is nary a citrus fruit in sight."

The owl pecked curiously at the edges, smearing his beak with the sticky red fruit. "Hmm. I suppose it will do."

Evelyn let him have his fill, then tucked into the egg and cheese pie as she continued on her way toward the city gate.

She crossed through and wandered down the slope, following the winding stone pathway until the stones grew further and further apart and then faded altogether, leaving a simple dirt road that hugged the dense woods where she'd spent her first night in Shieglas. As she wandered, she sorted through the information she'd gathered from the merchant. She'd wanted to ask when things had changed, when the berries stopped growing, and what other types of crops were no longer available because of it.

But most of all, a single word rolled through her mind: curse.

"What's going on in that head of yours?" Archie finally asked.

"Oh, it's just something that man told me," she replied. "He said some people say the blight is the result of a witch's curse."

Archie scoffed, swaying slightly on her shoulder. "What kind of curse could inflict such a terrible thing? I've certainly never heard of such magic."

In truth, Evelyn hadn't either, but the world was a big place, and she was not too proud to admit there were many things she did not know.

Archie on the other hand…

"A blight is one thing," Evelyn said. "It could have a lot of causes, and while none of them would be easy to remedy, at least I'd have a chance. A curse, though…?" Her thought trailed off.

She stopped abruptly at the place where the woods met the back half of the large orchard she'd noticed on her first visit to the farming community. She removed her satchel and kneeled down in the dirt. Archie hopped down from her shoulder and marched around in a circle while Evelyn pulled half a dozen empty glass vials from inside it, setting them carefully in the grass before digging around for one more item. The final vial was not empty, but was filled with a fine silver powder, almost like bits of fairy dust.

Archie gave a low hoot and leaned in closer. "What's that one?"

"It's a revealing powder," Evelyn replied. "It can show things—magic—that are invisible to the naked eye."

Straightening, she considered the fruit trees and winced. The back of the orchard looked even worse than the section planted along the road, with far more withered trees than healthy ones.

Evelyn took the vial of silver powder and one empty vial to the base of the nearest tree, its limbs black and twisted. She squatted down and sprinkled some of the silver powder on the ground, then whispered an incantation. The powder vanished as the magic from it seeped into the ground, and for a moment, nothing changed. Then, at once, the brown dirt flashed silver, revealing swaths of black soil, stretching out as far as she'd sprinkled the powder. Embedded in the black soil were deep purple vines, lined with sharp nettles, that ensnared the tree's roots and pierced the bark. She reached out and tried to stroke the nettle, only for her finger to pass through, as if it was not truly there at all.

With a gasp, Evelyn recoiled.

This was no mere blight.

It was a witch's curse.

Evelyn worked quickly to fill her empty glass jars with samples of the soil from the woods, from other places in the orchard, and from a farm on the opposite side of the road. When her last glass vial was full, she returned to her new home, her head so busy with thoughts and worry it felt as though a colony of anxious bees had built a hive between her ears. It wasn't until she neared Sailcloth Row, the midday sun shining on her back, that she looked up and realized someone was standing outside her shop.

Someone with their nose pressed against the boards, their hands cupped around the sides of their face to get a good look.

"Oi!" she called, picking up her pace.

The slender figure jolted and spun around, with all the grace of a newborn colt, and Evelyn stopped short as the face of the freckled boy sparked recognition.

"Erwin? What are you doing?"

The boy's pale skin went bright pink as he removed his simple wool cap and twisted it nervously with his long fingers. "Uh, hello, Ms. Evelyn, I was—uh, well, I was looking for you."

Evelyn shifted her weight. "I can see that," she replied, making a gesture toward the window he'd been smashed against only moments ago.

"Oh, right." The pink tinge turned another shade darker. "Well, last night you mentioned needing some furniture for the shop. Um, that is, if you still wanted me to help."

"Oh." Evelyn blinked, then rocked back onto her heels. "Right, of course."

Archie leaned in, his eyes narrowed.

Erwin jammed his cap back onto his nest of messy red curls. "I'm only an apprentice, but my employer says I do good work. And he lets me practice with the scraps from his big jobs. The wood's not always the best, so there might be knots or slight cracks, but I promise anything I make will be sound!"

Evelyn smiled at his eagerness. "I assure you, I'm not picky. I would be most grateful for your help, and willing to pay for your time."

Erwin smiled wide enough to make his eyes crinkle. "I could come back tomorrow and take some measurements."

"That sounds wonderful. Thank you, Erwin. I'll be here."

"Okay, then, goodbye for now!" he said, before scampering down the street.

Archie puffed out his feathered chest. "That one's as flighty as a hummingbird, isn't he?"

Evelyn laughed softly and went to her door, already fishing the key from her pocket. "Maybe so, but he means well, and any measure of skill with a hammer and nails will be worlds above what I could do on my own. I could have him take these boards down, too, and let some more light into the place. Although I may need to ask Sio who could repair that crack in the glass."

Sweeping inside, she closed the door and set about lining up the soil samples on the windowsill, which only served to emphasize the need for a proper table.

She took a step back and considered the six bottles. Without the revealing powder's magic, they looked like nothing menacing or even strange. But the memory of those piercing nettles sent a shiver skittering up Evelyn's back.

"What am I going to do, Archie?" she said, her teeth worrying at her lower lip. "I've never even created a curse. How am I to figure out how to break one? Especially one this strong."

Archie peered at her, his expression solemn. "In that case, I think you know what you have to do."

Evelyn's heart sank, even as a protest rose to her lips.

"I know," the owl added. "But think of what's at stake."

To get the one thing she wanted the most, she'd have to break the one promise she'd made to herself.