Chapter 27

O nce inside the shop, Evelyn dropped her cloak and satchel onto their respective pegs, and hurried to check the cauldron. The clarifying potion had cooled to a tepid green color that reminded her of the fat lily pads that covered the surface of her favorite pond back at Crownvale Castle, and she hoped that Odessa had taken up feeding the small fish and ducks that lived there in her stead.

She quickly pushed the notion aside. Thoughts of Crownvale, and even of Odessa, were unwelcome reminders of what was at stake should the potion fail.

Coren lingered in the doorway, while Nareen marched inside and made herself quite comfortable on the rug Evelyn had bought from one of the farmers. It was woven from alpaca hair and dyed a soft purple. Coren had handed over the ill-gotten bone, and she set about gnawing on it.

Evelyn watched Nareen for a moment, wishing she could harness a mere fraction of the dog's serenity and clarity of mind. She thought one could learn a lot from a happy hound.

"You don't have to come to the dinner tonight," she said, looking up at Coren. "If you don't want to."

Coren frowned. "Why wouldn't I?"

Evelyn ran her teeth over her lower lip, and wished the buzzing in her head would quiet down so she could make some sense of her own thoughts. A pressure was building inside her chest, and she didn't know how to find the words to make it stop.

"Evelyn?" Coren stepped closer. "If you've changed your mind, you're always welcome to come back to the cottage, and take more time to sort out?—"

"I'm not who you think I am." The words escaped her lips before she could stop them, though she desperately wished she could reel them back as she watched a riptide of emotions roll through Coren's eyes.

It was too late now, though.

"I-I didn't come here, to Shieglas, to open a potion shop. I didn't come here of my own volition at all." Tears sprang to her eyes, hot and bitter, but she tamped them down and lifted her chin.

"What?" Coren reached for her hands, but stopped himself short of taking them. "What are you talking about? You're saying someone forced you to come here?"

She met his gaze. "I came from Benenfar. I live at Crownvale Castle."

Coren's eyes narrowed, then went wide as the truth of it hit him.

"I am one of the four royal witches, bound in service to the crown for a term of seven years."

Coren shook his head, his lips forming words, but unable to voice them. The one Evelyn could clearly read was why .

"The king's advisor, Catriona Kilgour, sent me here to cure the blight. The merchants and nobles have been sending petitions to the castle for some time now, pleading for aid. With everything going on, King Ayren has been… distracted, but Lady Kilgour thought I might be able to come on my own and earn him some much-needed goodwill if I could reverse the blight in time for the harvest."

Coren dug a hand through his hair. "Why didn't you say something sooner? Why make up the story about the potion shop?"

Evelyn faltered. "I was sworn to secrecy. If my efforts failed, I was to return to the castle and not say anything to anyone. The potion shop was only a convenient story at the time. A way for me to get information, mainly."

Slowly, Coren turned away and stared out the window at the back of the shop, his hand kneading the back of his neck in time with the flexing of his jaw. "If you never meant to stay, then what was this? With us?" He looked back at her, the pain in his eyes making them look all the more gray and dull. "Was last night just something to pass the time?"

"No! Of course not."

He didn't believe her. She could see the disbelief etched into every line on his face.

She wanted to convince him she was telling the truth. She wanted to wrap her arms around him and hold fast, as he seemed the only thing stable amidst the ground shifting beneath her feet. But she also knew that if she reached for him and he turned away, she'd shatter.

And she couldn't let that happen.

Not again. It had taken far too long to put the pieces back together when her world shattered the first time.

"If I can lift the blight, I will be granted my freedom," she said, her voice thick. "For the first time in my life I won't have to answer to the coven or the crown. I can make my own choices, and Coren, I choose you. I want you."

He turned back at that, his expression still guarded, but something in his eyes gave Evelyn a burst of hope. "What about your coven?" he asked. "You said you do not wish to go back to Everspring Glade, but surely they would expect you to, after such a task is completed. Would they not want to celebrate your valiant return? "

A dry snort squeezed through Evelyn's nostrils. "Definitely not."

Coren arched his brows, but kept quiet, leaving her space to elaborate.

Evelyn fussed with her hair, gathering it into her fist before pulling it over one shoulder and twisting the ends. "What I told you before, it was all true. My mother passed away four years ago. But she was sick even before I was sent to the king. The coven leaders knew she would likely not survive long enough to see me home again in seven years' time, and they sent me anyway."

Coren grimaced. "That seems cruel."

"It was… agony," Evelyn agreed, fresh sparks of pain flaring up. "When she was reaching the very end of her journey through this realm, I petitioned King Ayren—I threw myself at his feet and begged him to let me go back, so I could see her one last time and say goodbye—" Her voice caught. She swallowed hard, shaking her head. "He refused."

Coren took a step toward her. "Evelyn?—"

"I wrote to Rona, the head of the five coven leaders. I thought maybe if she wrote to the king on my behalf, it would carry more weight. She holds power and a connection to Caele, and the king, for all his many faults, is a deeply superstitious man. I knew he would not risk angering any of the Four."

"Did she write?" Coren asked, though the pained look in his eyes told Evelyn he'd already worked out the answer for himself.

She shook her head, her hands balling into tight fists at her sides. "She wrote me back and told me I was not to ask her for such a thing, that I need only do my work and please the king." Evelyn fell silent, her eyes welling with old tears. "Three months later, I received another letter, again from Rona, telling me my mother was dead."

She drew in a shaky breath and lifted her chin. "So, no. I do not care to ever return to Everspring."

Coren reached for Evelyn's hands and ran his thumbs over the angry pink lines in her palms, where her nails had dug in. "I'm sorry, Evelyn."

"To answer your question," she continued, knowing if she stopped speaking she would dissolve into tears. "I didn't have a plan for what came next. I did not dare to let myself get that far ahead. I never imagined I would consider staying beyond the time needed for my task. But then I met you, and Maeve, and Sio and Trudy and Erwin and Lorcan, and Lenora and the farmers, and—" A soft laugh mingled with a strangled sob, and a tear slipped free. "I never expected any of this to happen, Coren. It felt like a dream to me."

Her smile slipped and she looked down at their hands, the red marks soothed away, though Coren's thumb continued brushing over the tender skin of her palm.

"When I first got here, I was afraid of failing the task because it would mean going back to Benenfar—to the king. But somewhere along the way, it changed, and I started to fear failing the task because it would mean losing all of you. And now, I fear I may lose you all anyway."

"You haven't lost me, Evelyn." Warm, calloused fingertips found her chin, guiding her gaze up, where storm-cloud eyes looked down at her, their edges lined with the silver promise of daylight breaking through. "I'm right here."

"Coren, you don't have to?—"

"I know something of what it's like to carry such a secret," he said, gently interjecting, his eyes never straying from hers. "I spend time among the farmers, many of them are my friends, but I hear their whispers. I know many of them find it suspicious that my own crops haven't suffered since this terrible blight began. I want to tell them the truth, but I can't. It's too much of a risk. I want to help them all, but I haven't found a way to do that, either. So, instead, I found myself withdrawing a bit more and more, over time. And then you came to town and turned that all on its head. Suddenly I found myself eager to leave the cottage, to go into the village or into town, just to see if I could catch a glimpse of you. To see what you might say." He paused, tracing her lips with his eyes before bringing them back to meet her gaze. His eyes soft and hopeful. "I don't want to lose you, Evelyn. I don't want things to go back to the way they were before you were here, not just in my life, but in Shieglas. "

Evelyn rose up to the balls of her feet, closing the remaining space between them, and kissed him.

A sharp bark broke them apart, and Nareen got to her feet as the door burst open. Maeve sauntered in, wielding some sort of sharp tool for what purpose Evelyn could only imagine. "Oi, Evelyn, do you have any more of those green onions?" She stopped short and cracked a grin. "Oh, shall I come back later?"

Coren frowned. "I guess I should have locked that…"

Maeve gave an impish shrug and waved the pointed tool around. "I'm not sure how much good that would have done. I grew up on a pirate ship, after all. I learned how to pick a lock with my mother's hairpins before I finished growing my milk teeth."

Evelyn gave a helpless laugh, shaking her head at the woman who was more force of nature than mortal.

Maeve looked at her and her smile faded. "Are you crying, Evelyn?" Her dark eyes narrowed and flicked toward Coren. "All right, what did you do? I didn't peg you as the type of man to abandon ship after getting what he wants from a woman."

"What?" Coren and Evelyn said in horrified unison.

Before Coren could defend his own honor, the rustle of wings sounded, and Nareen offered another rumbling bark as Archie flew inside the shop. "What's all this?" he exclaimed, zipping high over the dog's head with a startled screech .

Maeve gestured with the sharp tool. "Coren made Evelyn cry!"

Archie swung around in a circle, his golden eyes blazing as his talons reached out toward Coren. "I knew you were trouble—I oughta?—"

"Archie!" Evelyn yelped. "Stop! Coren didn't do anything wrong."

Archie stopped short of his attack and turned in a tight circle to land on his usual perch on the mantel. He leaned forward and kept a wary eye on Coren.

Evelyn sighed. "Listen, Maeve, there's something I need to tell you. All of you."

Archie clacked his beak. "What's this, Evelyn?"

Evelyn ignored him. There would be time to explain once Maeve was gone. "Will everyone be at dinner tonight? Sio, Lorcan, Trudy, Erwin?"

Maeve nodded. "Should be. Sio's a given, and the other three never miss one of my meals."

"Good. We'll be there, and I'll explain everything."

Maeve shifted a curious look toward Coren. "And you're sure you're all right?"

"Yes! Please, Maeve, I only want to say it once, so it will be easier if I can wait until everyone is together."

"Okay, okay." The cobbler backtracked, but stopped in the doorway and glanced over her shoulder. "Oh, and about those onions…?"

"I hope you know what you're doing," Archie said, still riled up long after Maeve left and Evelyn explained everything to him.

Coren had also gone, as he needed to see to his deliveries, but he'd promised to return the moment he was finished. With the shop quiet, it gave Evelyn the space to tell Archie everything she'd kept from him, too.

"I'm tired of living a lie, Archie. And I think we can both agree I need as many allies as I can get."

"I suppose that's true." He shuffled along the mantel. "I still don't see why you kept me in the dark."

"I'm sorry, Archie. Truly, I am. It's not much of an excuse, but I was trying to protect you. I didn't want you going after Jarvis or that innkeeper, and winding up hurt, or worse."

The owl bristled, his feathers ruffling around his neck, but he quickly relaxed and smoothed them out. "Still… there will be no more of this in the future, you hear?"

Evelyn smiled, suddenly reminded of childhood days spent in a stifling cottage, gathered with the other young witches as they learned how to read and write and cast their first spells. Their instructor was a severe witch who rarely smiled and had a low voice that she used to great effect when barking out orders and corrections. Archie was nearly a mirror image.

"I promise, Archie. No more secrets."

Seemingly contented, the owl fell silent but for an occasional muttering, and Evelyn set to finishing the clarifying potion. It would be better to wait until the moon was high in the sky, but as she bottled up the batch, she couldn't help feeling a bit twitchy.

As promised, Coren returned in the late afternoon, his brow beaded with sweat for the day had grown quite warm, and he'd undoubtedly been in a hurry. Nareen wandered inside and resumed chewing on her bone, as comfortable as if she'd lived in the shop all her life.

When twilight fell, Coren and Evelyn walked next door, their hands interlaced. Archie came to rest on her shoulder as Coren stepped forward to knock on the door.

The smell of Maeve's stew filled the shop, drowning out the usual scents of polish and smoke and leather. Sio stood in the doorway of the back entrance, enjoying the evening air as it swept into the shop and banished some of the heat. Erwin was at the table, shuffling through the playing cards, and glancing expectantly at Trudy's back as the elf bustled around the kitchen. Lorcan stood by the back window, petting Smudge, who arched under the goblinkin's touch.

Maeve welcomed them inside. "Everyone's here," she said with a nervous smile. "So, um, should we eat before or after your news, Evelyn? "

"News?" Sio repeated.

The others turned to look at her, and Archie gently squeezed her shoulder with his talons. "I'll probably feel better if I can just get this all out now," she replied.

Maeve nodded. "All right, everyone listen up. Evelyn has something she needs to tell us before we eat."

"My bread will get cold," Trudy muttered. "It's better when it's still warm."

Sio grimaced. "I think we'll be all right, Trudy."

The elf woman frowned. "Hmph. Well, then, what is it, girl?"

Maeve poked her elbow into the woman's soft side, and gave a slight shake of her head. Sio stood stoic, her head tilted slightly to one side as she awaited Evelyn's next words. Lorcan continued stroking the cat, while Erwin set down his cards and looked around nervously, gauging everyone else's expressions.

Coren placed a reassuring hand on her back, and offered a quiet smile.

Evelyn cleared her throat and told them most of what she'd explained to Coren that morning. She left out the parts about Rona and the coven and her mother's death, choosing to focus only on the blight and her status as one of the royal witches. She faltered in places, as the surprise registered, but her voice was more steady than when she'd told Coren.

"I hope you all can believe me when I say I did not want to keep these secrets from you," she concluded, her hands laced together in front of herself, to keep from fidgeting with the braid she'd draped over one shoulder. "And I hope you will all agree not to share this with anyone else. At least, not until I've managed to break the curse."

"Curse?" Trudy interjected. "You're sure it's a curse?"

Evelyn blinked, surprised that was the woman's first question. "Yes. I have a powder that can reveal the effect of magic, and when I heard the rumor the blight was caused by a witch, I used it. You can't see them, or even feel them, but there are barbs and nettles embedded in the ground, and they're snaked around the plants that are being choked out by the blight."

Erwin's eyes widened. "Do you think it was her?"

Everyone turned to look at him. "Her who?" Maeve asked.

"The witch who turned the poor boy into a gull," Trudy interjected, almost impatient. "And there's no telling, boy. Not that it would matter much anyway. She's long gone by now."

"Oh." Maeve's brows lifted.

"But you can break this curse?" Sio asked, her dark eyes shifting back to Evelyn.

"I—I'm going to try. The head leader of my coven sent me some blessed soil, gathered near the monolith dedicated to Caele. The ground there is sacred, as it's where Caele herself once resided when she and the other goddesses were still in this realm. I believe if I apply a cleansing potion to the blessed soil, I can use it as a channel to cleanse the curse."

"And you have this potion now?" Trudy asked.

Evelyn nodded. "Yes. I finished it this afternoon."

"Well, then what are we all doing standing around in here?" the elf asked, already bustling toward the door. "Let's go break this curse!"

"Wait—" Evelyn said, her brow furrowed as the others roused into motion. "You aren't upset with me?"

Maeve and Sio laced their hands together. "Why would we be upset?" Maeve asked.

"Because I've been lying to you all. Talking about opening a potion shop, and?—"

"Listen, Evelyn, it doesn't sound like you had much of a choice, and I imagine there's some risk in trusting us now."

"I—I suppose that's true."

Maeve consulted the others with a meaningful look, then hitched one shoulder as she turned back to Evelyn. "We've all seen the work you've done to help the people of Shieglas. From what you've said, that part was all of your own choosing. Was it not?"

"It—it was, but?—"

Erwin flashed a quick smile. "As my gran used to say, you're a good bean, Evelyn."

For the second time that day, Evelyn felt tears brimming in her eyes .

"Oh, now, there is certainly no time for that ," Trudy exclaimed, tossing her hands into the air.

Everyone laughed softly, and Maeve scooped Evelyn into a quick embrace. "You're all right, Evelyn. We're still on your side." She tossed her a wink and steered her toward the door. "Now, let's go and break this blasted curse!"