Chapter 16

A s a seventh sheaf of parchment was balled up and tossed to the floor, Evelyn also dropped her pen to the table and buried her face in her hands. The letter writing was going about as well as her initial experiments with the contaminated soil.

Her first version had been too angry. Too much of her bitterness bled into the words. The second was only better by a margin. By the third attempt, she'd softened her approach, but the end result read like a list, rather than a letter.

On and on and on, until the discarded drafts littered her floor.

What she needed was a cup of tea. And perhaps a biscuit. Yes, that would sort her out and get her head right. She was midway through heating the water when a knock sounded on the door. Archie had gone out to hunt and wasn't there to play castle guard, so Evelyn crept toward the window, hoping not to find the menacing healer on the other side.

Instead, she found Erwin. The young man stood wringing his hands and bobbing up onto the balls of his feet as he waited for an answer.

With a smile, Evelyn opened the door. "You have perfect timing, Erwin. I was just making a cup of tea. Would you like to come in and join me?"

"Oh!" He blinked. "Well, that does sound nice, but actually, I'm here on account of Maeve. She wanted me to invite you over for dinner. She says she's made entirely too much of her famous wayfarer's stew for two people, and she needs help finishing it off before her whole shop smells like rotting fish heads." The way the boy's eyes rolled up toward the sky made Evelyn think he was doing his best to recite the cobbler's instructions verbatim. Satisfied, he gave a nod and smiled. "So, what do you think? The part about the fish heads makes it sound a little iffy, but I've had it before, and I promise it's quite good."

Evelyn laughed. "You know, that sounds even better than tea. Fish heads and all."

Erwin chuckled. "Good. I'll tell her you'll be over soon, then?" He peered past Evelyn, to the pile of scattered wads of parchment, but straightened a moment later, not giving voice to the flicker of a question in his eyes.

"Thank you, Erwin. I'll be right over."

He left and she closed the door, then made her way to the hearth and snuffed out the flames licking at the bottom of the copper kettle. She brushed her hands off on her skirt and glanced around the shop, hoping to find something worth taking to add to the meal, but came up short. She probably should have gone to the market after all, if not to ask Coren some of her questions, then at least to buy a bit of food.

In the end, she grabbed what was left of the jar of apple butter and bustled over next door. She'd barely rapped her knuckles against the door before it flew open and Maeve's smiling face greeted her. The cobbler grabbed her by the wrist and tugged her inside. "You came!"

"I said she would," Erwin muttered quietly from his place at the table, where he sat opposite Trudy, an arrangement of playing cards spread between them. The old elf offered a grunt of acknowledgement, but did not look up from her hand.

Sio chuckled from the other side of the room, minding a large pot of stew as it bubbled away in the hearth. "Evening, Evelyn."

Lorcan sat near the rear window, stroking the black cat, Smudge, who sat perched on the wide sill. He glanced up and offered Evelyn a smile. "Good to see you again."

"You, too."

"Come in, come in," Maeve said, closing the door behind her to block out the chill. The rain had stopped sometime in the afternoon, but as twilight fell, a chilly wind had taken its place .

"I brought this to share," Evelyn said, extending the jar toward Maeve.

"What is it?" Maeve asked, already unscrewing the lid. She breathed deeply and gave an approving smile. "Mmm. It reminds me of the solstice!"

"It's called apple butter." A thrill of satisfaction ran through Evelyn at having chosen the right gift. "I got it from a vendor at the night market. It's quite nice on toasted bread. It gets soft with the heat and tastes a bit like an apple tart."

Maeve closed the jar, then reached out to squeeze Evelyn's shoulder. "Thank you. We'll have to have some after dinner."

"Speaking of which," Sio interjected, a ladle poised beneath her nose, "I'd say we're about ready to dish up."

Maeve scurried across the room to sample her creation, while Lorcan lumbered to his feet, careful not to bump his head on the lowered ceiling where the loft extended overhead. Smudge dropped to the bench to take the place of the large goblinkin, no doubt soaking in the warmth left in the upholstered seat.

"It smells delicious, Maeve," Evelyn said, stepping deeper into the shop. "Is it your own recipe, then?"

"My mother's," Maeve replied with a nod. She gave the stew a final sprinkle of salt, stirred, then dished up as Sio passed her wooden bowls. "When you live on a ship, you get quite creative with the various ways to cook fish."

"I can imagine," Evelyn replied with a chuckle.

Trudy and Erwin cleared their game from the table, the old woman crowing about her victory while Erwin sulked. Sio passed out the bowls after Maeve filled them, and Lorcan got cups of water or wine for anyone who wanted one. They crowded around the table and tucked into the meal, sending a flurry of compliments in Maeve's direction after the first bite or two.

The stew was simple enough, consisting of hunks of a soft, white fish, a medley of vegetables, and wild rice, but the flavors of the caramelized onion and roasted garlic layered with the herbs in a most pleasing way. Evelyn picked out the flavor of lemongrass, white pepper, and even a touch of basil.

"What makes it so creamy?" Evelyn asked, still trying to identify the flavors.

"Coconut milk," Maeve replied. "Coconuts don't grow around here, of course, but they travel well enough. A shipment just came in from one of the southern isles, and I knew I had to whip up a batch!"

Everyone cleared their first bowl and went back for a second scoop, which delighted Maeve, and soon enough, the room was filled with the sounds of slurping and another round of compliments.

"I'm glad to see you smiling today, Evelyn," Maeve commented as she finished off her second bowl. "We were worried about you after last night's unpleasantness."

Erwin perked up, looking to Lorcan, who shrugged and tipped his bowl to his lips to get every last bit of the remains.

"Jarvis followed her here after the night market and yelled at her in the street," Trudy explained to the boy.

Lorcan lowered his bowl. "He what?"

Evelyn shrank inwardly, toying with her spoon.

"Don't worry," Trudy told Lorcan. "We set him straight, and told him not to mess with one of our own."

Lorcan looked unconvinced.

"That sounds scary, Evelyn," Erwin said. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine, thank you," Evelyn replied, offering the young man a soft smile. "Though it was a bit startling."

"What's got him all twisted up?" Lorcan asked, his wide brow still furrowed.

"He doesn't want a witch in town," Evelyn replied. "I don't think it's personal, so much as a general distrust. I've gathered there are at least a few here in the harbor who don't care for witches."

Erwin cleared his throat and stared into his bowl, scraping at the sides in an effort to scoop the last bite of carrot. Trudy slid the boy a look, though Evelyn couldn't decipher the meaning.

"Is it because of the blight?" Evelyn asked the table, searching for an answer and looking at each person.

Maeve and Sio exchanged a look. "I suppose so," Maeve replied as Sio dabbed her lips with a linen napkin. "Though, that's quite ridiculous, if you ask me. It's like saying if one cobbler ruined your best pair of boots, you ought to never trust one again! And then where would you be?"

"Well, in this case, it would be a cobbler ruining an entire town's boots," Sio added, her voice low.

"My point stands," Maeve replied. "And we don't even know if this whole mess was because of a witch. That could merely be town gossip."

"The blight is the work of a curse," Evelyn confirmed. "And I want to help set it right."

Maeve met her gaze, and the lines at the corners of her dark, doe eyes softened. "Oh, Evelyn. No one expects you to be able to fix it just because you're a witch. No one thinks you should be the one held responsible."

Evelyn's brow arched, and Maeve winced. "Well, most folks don't, anyway."

Trudy dropped her napkin to the table. "If you ask me, Jarvis is more upset over you stealing his customers than anything else. He doesn't care about the farmers. He's too busy up in the hilltop district, or out at the mountain pass, where Lord Greymairn is building that fortress of his. It's no secret Lord Greymairn passes out coins to get things done. Jarvis is probably taking coins from those who can afford it, and ignoring the rest."

"That's—that's awful!" Evelyn exclaimed, more passionately than she'd meant to.

"Maybe so, girl, but that's the way the world works. Don't go listening to anyone who tells you different. "

Maeve cut a glance at the old woman. "Oh, Trudy, don't be so cynical."

Trudy's thin lips pursed together, but she didn't take back her words.

"But then wouldn't Jarvis want the help of someone else who could step in to fill the gap?" Evelyn asked.

"It's a wound to his pride," Maeve replied.

Trudy tucked her chin, agreeing to the point. "He's lost a lot of respect among those in old town. You being here has only shone a light on his greed and indifference, and he doesn't want that."

"You're doing good work here, Evelyn," Sio said, offering a reassuring smile before getting up to start clearing the table.

Lorcan followed suit, grabbing empty bowls and spoons and passing them to Sio's waiting hands.

"But what will happen to the town if the blight isn't fixed?" Evelyn asked. "Is that why Lord Greymairn is building a new settlement? I wouldn't think the mountain would be the best place to establish new farms, though."

"No." Maeve's eyes flashed. "That's for himself. Apparently the hilltop district is not enough. He wants a palace."

"I've heard there are talks to cut deeper into the forest and create new farming land," Lorcan said, looking to the others for confirmation.

Sio bobbed her head once, her gaze falling back to the washing. She stood over a basin of clean water and scrubbed the bowls and spoons clean, before passing them back to Lorcan's enormous hands. "There are some who want to expand, but others believe Caele would send a curse of her own if the woods were disturbed."

Everyone looked to Evelyn.

"I cannot say for sure," she replied, her words a bit shaky. "The Four have moved on from this realm, into that of stardust and memory, leaving the covens to tend to their work. But that's not to say their will cannot still be done here in this realm. It is a great mystery how it works, one the witches do not even fully understand."

Sio nodded, accepting the reply, though it was vague. "The farms provide the majority of the harbor's exports. Without the vineyards and fields of golden barley, there would be no wine or ale, and without the herds of sheep and goats and alpacas, there would be no wool, or the products made from it. The same with bread and preserves and pickled food, made to survive long winters. The merchants would have a hard time convincing ships to come here if there was nothing to send along to the next port. They get paid to send cargo from one port to another. Coming all this way and not being able to fill their hull before setting off again would be a waste of their time, and the merchants would not be willing to spend enough to make it worth their while."

Sio looked at Maeve. "And without dock workers, sailors, and farmers, there wouldn't be much cobbling work." She heaved a sigh, her broad shoulders slumping. " I don't want to leave the harbor, but it may not be up to me."

"What about the craftspeople? Like you, Sio, with your glassworks. Couldn't you start selling to other ports? Or… I don't know, baskets, pottery, building materials. It seems there must be something worth selling and trading with the other port cities."

Evelyn quite liked the idea of a city of artisans.

"Possibly," Sio replied, her tone measured, "but it would take a lot of time and training. As it stands, I don't make enough money to keep an employee around the shop. I couldn't single-handedly produce enough to fill the hull of a ship with glasswares, and even if I could hire and train some displaced farmers, I wouldn't know the first thing about where to go to find customers."

"Well, the merchants could help with that, I would think." Evelyn quickly glanced around the table to see if she'd said something foolish.

"Perhaps," Maeve said, offering Evelyn a kindly smile. "But for now, let's set all of this aside. We need not borrow trouble, especially on such a nice evening." She rose to her feet and headed for her cramped kitchen area. "Now, Evelyn, you said the apple butter goes well with toasted bread, is that right?"

Evelyn nodded, though she was only halfway paying attention. Her thoughts spun in tight circles, like a hound chasing its own tail, whirling faster and faster. She barely tasted her dessert, as Maeve handed out slices of toasted bread, smothered in the spiced preserves, and she fell silent as the others tried to return to a more uplifting topic of conversation.

When the fire began to dwindle, Evelyn thanked Maeve for the meal and bade everyone a good night. She shuffled into the street and let herself into her own shop, and suddenly the words she'd searched for all afternoon presented themselves. She stepped inside, kicked off her boots, and by the flickering light of a candle, sat down to write.