Chapter 20

A rchie returned to check on Evelyn the following morning, as she was in the middle of packing up the potions and salves she needed to deliver to the farming village. "What is all this mess?" he demanded as he flew through the window and went to what had become his customary perch on the mantel. Evelyn hadn't bothered with a fire, as she'd planned to leave almost immediately upon waking.

"This is everything I need to take to the farms," Evelyn explained as she tugged the window shut and resumed her work. An array of bottles and pots covered the top of her workbench. Her lips twisted to one side. "I'm beginning to worry that someone will realize the impossibility of all this fitting in my satchel."

Archie's golden eyes narrowed. "They already know you're a witch, Evelyn. What difference could it possibly make if they sort out your bag is enchanted?"

She slid a gaze to the bag, hanging with her cloak from the peg the previous tenant had nailed into the wall. "It's just… Well, a bag like that could fetch quite a price. Not to mention, it still holds a fair amount of my belongings, even with the unpacking I've done thus far."

"Ah. I suppose there is one solution. You could focus a little more on breaking the curse, and a little less on playing town healer."

Evelyn shot a glower toward her familiar. This wasn't the way she wanted to start out the day. "Summer is here, Archie. I have one season left before Lady Kilgour sends for me, and tells me to return to Crownvale." A finger of dread played along her spine. She sniffed and straightened her shoulders. "I wrote a reply to Odessa last night, telling her it's not a blight, but a curse. Perhaps one of the other covens will be able to help. In the meantime, I intend to do some good and help the people of Shieglas."

Over the weeks, Lenora had become something of an intercessor on Evelyn's behalf. She took requests from her neighbors in the farming village, and was careful not to promise too much. When she could slip away from her chores, she came to Evelyn's supposed shop and relayed the list, usually bringing a basket of fresh eggs or a bottle of goat's milk with her.

"Perhaps I should have taken Lenora up on her offer when she said she could have her husband build me a wagon of my own."

Evelyn had declined, thinking she would not have need of one permanently. Hauling the cursed soil was meant to be a one-time ordeal, and she hadn't thought to use one for carting her wares around town.

Archie clacked his beak. "So, get the seagull-boy to make one for you."

Evelyn looked up, her expression twisted. "His name is Erwin, and he's just a boy. The gull part is… temporary."

Archie let out a hoot and flapped his wings. "Oh? And I suppose you mean to fix that, too, then? What with all your spare time?!"

Evelyn turned and pinned the owl with a glare. "So what if I do?"

"You can't save everyone, Evelyn," the owl replied, his tone kinder, though the ferocity lingered in his golden eyes. "You were sent here with one task—a near impossible one, at that! Yet somehow, you've spent more time running around, brewing this or that, packing salves into jars, and making deliveries like a common mule!"

Evelyn's fists slammed against her hips. "And what should I be doing? I've tried every spell I know, and nearly knocked myself out on the last attempt! Rona won't reply to my letter. There are no other witches here, or libraries filled with magic books or grimoires. What would you have me do?"

The owl leaned forward. "You're giving up, then? "

Evelyn shook her head, her teeth gnashing together to hold back more angry words. She yanked her satchel down from its peg and began tucking bottles and pots into the enchanted pouch. The magic was eager to help and quickly stowed the vials and bottles into the bag's depths. "That's enough, Archie! If you're not here to help, then perhaps it would be best if you left. I have work to do, whether you deem it important or not."

"Fine!" He hopped to the window and gave her a final scathing look before squeezing through and flying away.

Evelyn released a roar of frustration, her curls shaking wildly as she shook her head and watched the owl disappear.

Evelyn's anger dulled somewhat by the time she reached the crossroads near the farming village, and faded even further to the back of her mind as she was greeted by the big, black dog that had stopped to sniff at the base of the signpost.

"Hello, Nareen!" Evelyn called as the dog trotted over, her tail wagging.

Coren emerged from the woods, pulling his cart behind him as he followed an unmarked path between the tall evergreens. He faltered a step when he spotted her fussing over his beloved companion, and smiled. "I was wondering what she'd gone after in such a hurry," Coren said with a chuckle as he came to a stop.

Nareen circled them, wagging her tail and barking excitedly.

"She makes for quite the welcoming party," Evelyn said with a laugh.

"She's meant to stay where I can see her, but then, I figure she's pretty safe around here. Everyone in the village knows how much she eats, and no one wants to steal a dog with a fathomless pit where her stomach ought to be," he said, chuckling again and stroking the dog's ears as she circled back to his side.

Evelyn laughed at the clear lack of remorse on the hound's face. As her eyes found his, he straightened, one hand going to the back of his neck. "Are you headed into the village, then?"

She nodded. "I have a few deliveries to make. And you?"

"More or less the same," he replied, his hand still absently rubbing the back of his neck. "I suppose we could walk together?"

Nareen looked between them, as though wondering what the hold-up was all about. Then she turned and loped down the dirt road.

"Looks like she wants to lead the way," Evelyn said with a smile .

"More than likely, she caught a whiff of some poor farmer's chicken coop."

Evelyn laughed and they set off side-by-side toward the center of the village. It wasn't a market day, but the dirt square bustled with activity as folks went about their morning chores. Sheep bleated as they passed, chickens scampered out of Nareen's path, and children ran around in the morning sunshine. Evelyn spotted Lenora's youngest boy, Brodie, climbing a tree with two other children in hot pursuit.

The general merriment in the air concealed the very real problem lingering just beneath the surface of the fields and pastures. As they passed the stretch of orchards, Evelyn's stomach clenched at the appearance of half a dozen trees gone withered and limp since her last visit.

A gasp tore from her, and she came to a sudden stop in the middle of the road.

"Evelyn? Are you—" Coren turned to follow her gaze, and winced at the sight of the trees. "Oh."

Evelyn hurried toward the nearest tree, and placed her palm against its trunk where the bark had blackened and gone dry. "There were leaves on this tree three days ago!" she exclaimed.

Nareen came over to give the tree an appraising sniff, then sauntered off to investigate the others.

Evelyn felt the warmth of Coren's body as he came to join her. She turned her head and found his chin over her shoulder, and had the sudden urge to take one more step backward, and let his form envelop her own. He reached for the branch over her head and when his fingers touched one of the ruined shoots, it crumbled as though made of ash. The debris rained down, and he swore as it fell into Evelyn's hair.

She shook her head, her eyes closed, and when she turned and opened them, she found him reaching toward her.

"Gods," he swore again, wiping the pad of his thumb across her cheekbone to swipe away the dirt. Only when it traced to her ear did he stop, realizing how close they were and the way his hand was cradling the side of her face. "Evelyn, I'm?—"

"It's okay," she replied, her voice barely more than a whisper. "I don't mind."

He shifted his body, somehow moving closer while still not touching her but for the place where his thumb lingered. Evelyn's eyes slid closed once more, and she silently willed his hand to move into her hair, tangled though it might be, and tilt her face up to his.

"Oi!"

The snapping of a voice was quickly followed by a sharp bark from Nareen, and Coren and Evelyn sprang apart, whirling toward the sounds.

A man in russet-colored trousers and a linen shirt barreled toward them, a hand plow gripped tightly and raised over his head. He stopped short at the edge of the orchard and a flicker of recognition hit as he looked in Coren's direction. "Oh, it's you, Thorneheart. I thought you were a thief! They've become quite bold in recent days."

Coren's hands thrust into the pockets of his trousers. "Apologies for the start, Gregor."

The man gave Evelyn an up-and-down look, then lifted his chin at Coren. "What are you two doing sneaking around in my orchards?"

Evelyn looked to Coren, as she found herself quite unsure what they had been doing in the orchard. Or, rather, what they might have been about to do.

Her face was still hot, though she hoped the farmer would chalk it up to a day spent in the sun without the proper hat. "I might be mistaken, but did this tree not blossom with the others? I swore it had new growth a few days ago. This whole row did."

The farmer's proud shoulders slumped, his plow lowered to the cursed ground. "It's another one taken by the blight." He strode forward and pointed out the others that now drooped and twisted. "Along with these."

Evelyn winced, imagining the phantom thorns and nettles that would undoubtedly be snaked around the roots of the tree, ensnaring them with vicious magic.

"You said thieves have been stealing the fruit and nuts from the healthy ones?" Coren asked.

The farmer nodded. "They usually come at night, but they're growing more bold, so when I heard voices, I thought the two of you were here to snatch a basket's worth for yourselves."

"You have our apologies," Coren said, ducking his chin respectfully, before reaching out to place a steadying hand at the small of Evelyn's back. He whisked her back to the road, looking back only long enough to whistle for Nareen's attention.

They made their way to Lenora's farm, and Evelyn was not surprised to find her regular customers already gathered in the pathway to the modest cottage's front door, while Lenora stood on her stoop, gesturing at the others. When she looked up and saw Evelyn coming, she beamed. "Now, see," she told the small crowd, "I told you all she'd be here."

Coren glanced at her. "Looks like you'll be needing your own stall at the market soon enough."

"She's a gift from the Four!" Lenora told Coren, still beaming as she came over to get everyone into an orderly line.

Evelyn smiled and did her best to push aside thoughts of the withered orchard. With a nod, she opened the flap of her satchel and withdrew the first potion.

She wasn't powerless when it came to skin blemishes and sore throats and coughs that lingered.

It wasn't enough, but for now, it was all she could do.

The next hour flew by as Evelyn passed potions and salves and poultices into eager hands. She expected Coren to go on his own way, but he stayed, occasionally passing out his own orders as farmers wandered by, or came to investigate the excitement.

There was some chatter about the blight, but Lenora quickly stamped it out and insisted they discuss such unpleasant things another time.

The farmers repaid Evelyn's kindness with that of their own, handing her a basket filled with eggs, bread, sausage, and honey, and even a bundle of colorful wildflowers, tied together with twine.

At Lenora's request, she followed her into the small cottage to have a quick peek at a rather unfortunate insect bite on the woman's midsection. Evelyn dispensed a potion to ease the itching and told her to call on her if it didn't go away within a day or two. When the two women stepped back outside, they found Coren across the yard, kneeling down to speak with Brodie and the two playmates Evelyn had spotted with him earlier. The three wide-eyed children were enamored with Nareen—who relished the attention—and Coren chuckled at something Brodie said, nodding encouragingly as the boy spoke.

"Oh, dear," Lenora said with a quiet chuckle. "Looks like Brodie's telling one of his tales. He'll talk poor Coren's ear off!"

Evelyn smiled. "It doesn't look like he minds."

Coren glanced up, looking past the slim shoulders of two of the children, and his smile tugged a little higher on the right side of his mouth as his eyes found Evelyn's. Her heart tumbled over itself a time or two, until Lenora clucked her tongue. "Oh dear, I know that look! You'd best be careful, Evelyn."

Evelyn tore her gaze from Coren to look at the woman. "What do you mean?"

The woman playfully smacked her arm with one corner of the dry dish towel in her hands, then offered a wink as she leaned in and said, "I have seven children, my dear, and I'd wager most of them began with a look very much like that one."

Laughing, the woman went to collect Brodie and shoo him back toward the barn, where the goats waited to be milked. She said something to Coren as she passed, and Evelyn's cheeks heated, sincerely hoping it was nothing along the lines of what she'd just said to her.