Chapter 4

" A re you a healer, miss?" the woman asked, as all eyes in the room swiveled toward Evelyn.

She licked her lips as Lady Kilgour's directive pierced through scattered thoughts. For a moment, she considered calling herself a healer and leaving the witch part out of it. But what if they asked where she'd studied? Or for the exact properties of her remedies? There were natural ingredients, things she could easily list off, but that wasn't the full extent of it. There was also magic. Still… saying she was a traveling healer might be safer if she hoped to keep her secret.

Unfortunately, she'd never been very good at lying.

"My name is Evelyn Rosewood. I am a Sister of Caele," she said, then quickly added, "I have a tincture that helps with fever. "

Archie gave a mournful hoot.

Several looks were exchanged, though most went past Evelyn, and she did not turn to see how they were received. The plump woman in the clothing of a kitchen maid lunged forward, desperation gleaming in her round brown eyes. "I suppose that's good enough for me," she said, breathless, as she snagged Evelyn's wrist and tugged hard enough to nearly send the witch sideways.

Voices stirred at Evelyn's back, but the maid held her arm fast and hauled her from the inn into the bustling street before she could make sense of what anyone was saying. A mule pulling a rickety wooden cart brayed in distress as the woman surged into the cross-traffic. The cart's owner shouted out a nasty swear, but the woman paid them no mind.

Archie hooted loudly as Evelyn was dragged into the fray, and Evelyn shot her feathered familiar a wary look as he flapped his wings to keep pace.

"I'm Paulette," the woman huffed, not so much as noticing the small owl. Her breath was short as they scurried up the hill, weaving between rows of buildings whenever the road became too congested to quickly pass. They moved too fast for Evelyn to fully absorb the variety of the various shops, and she worried she might not be able to find her way back to the inn when the work was done.

"I've served the Dunlas family all my life, you see. My mother was a governess before me," the woman continued, leading Evelyn around a corner and past a large plaza featuring a fountain in the shape of a strange two-headed fish, with only the barest trickle of water streaming from one of its open mouths.

That, at least, would be a landmark Evelyn wouldn't soon forget.

"You're a governess, then?" Evelyn asked, weaving past a pair of women in cloaks, baskets filled with bright purple berries dangling from their arms.

"No," the woman replied, skirting past a pair of merchants carrying rolled-up rugs on their backs, the colors of the weaving like that of the sea. "I wouldn't know what to teach the poor dears, I'm afraid. My mother tried to give me an education, of course, but it never took. Numbers and letters get all tangled up in my head. So I work in the kitchens, mainly."

"It's good work," she continued, her breathing coming in shorter pants as the road pitched a bit steeper.

They surged across a busy thoroughfare toward an open gate in the stone wall that encircled the highest reach of the city. The wall itself was smaller in stature than the city wall, and without towers, but a pair of guards stood outside it all the same. The woman escorted Evelyn past them, offering a passing nod to the man on the right, who stood leaning against the staff of a halberd.

"Is this part of the old city?" Evelyn asked, catching a glimpse of Archie as he sailed over the wall.

"The new," the woman corrected. "The original settlement was nearer to the water. Most folks call that old town. This district here is more recent." The woman cast a cautious glance at Evelyn, seeming to slow just long enough to take her in fully, and notice the details embroidered into her cloak. "The harbor can grow a bit… restless, after dark, you see. They close the gate here at night, to keep out any riffraff."

The woman picked up her pace again, a much easier feat in this section of the city, as the road was wider, its cobblestones smoother and more evenly placed. Carriages rolled by at a leisurely pace, and unlike in other parts of the city, there were no signs of livestock or flocks of birds here, rendering the air a bit sweeter. Even the narrow alleyways were paved with smooth, flat stones rather than dirt, adding to the overall charm of this section of the city.

Unlit lanterns filled with fairy moss hung beside every door and at every corner. At night, when water was poured onto the moss to set it to glowing, this section of the city would shine like a hillside beacon, Evelyn thought, leaving far fewer opportunities for unsavory behavior and crime. The homes were larger, most with two levels, their exteriors crafted of fine timber and stone, with arched roofs, detailed trim work, and solid wood doors embellished with copper-and-gold-plated hardware. Only the most wealthy of the court had homes like these in Benenfar.

The grandest of them all stood like a great hall, with two large stained-glass windows flanking a pair of curved doors, taller than the gate they'd passed through.

"Is this a temple?" Evelyn asked, still following closely on the woman's heels. The near-jog up the hill was an effort for the kitchen maid, but after years spent climbing the blasted steps to her quarters at the royal castle, Evelyn was barely winded from the journey.

Paulette hurried onward at an even quicker pace, her eyes fixed on the looming building ahead. "That is my mistress's home."

Evelyn swallowed hard. "And it is your mistress's daughter that is ill?"

Paulette nearly stumbled as her head snapped in Evelyn's direction, her eyes wild. "Yes. You can heal her, can't you?"

Evelyn hoped she could, because she knew what those with power and money were capable of when they did not get what they were promised.

"I will do my best," Evelyn replied.

Paulette hesitated, then gave a firm nod, though her hands twisted the fabric of her full skirt. She turned away and barreled up the final stretch. A man stood off to the side of the path leading to the impressive front doors of the home, and though Evelyn could not see an obvious weapon on his person, he gave off the menacing look of a hired guard, willing to do whatever it took to protect the astonishing house at his back. When he saw Paulette, he sprang into motion and pushed open one side of the enormous door. "Where is Jarvis?" he asked, eyeing Evelyn with a frown.

"This way," Paulette declared, pointedly ignoring the man's question as she hoisted her skirts a bit higher and ascended the front steps.

Evelyn did the same, keeping her feet from tangling in her long cloak. Her mind was already mentally sorting through the contents of her satchel, hoping what she had on hand would be enough to begin to help the girl.

She faltered for a moment, turning to see if Archie would be allowed to follow. While the owl contained no magical talent of his own—save for being a witch's familiar—he had listened to Evelyn's rambling enough to have an extensive knowledge of magic, and could serve as something of an apprentice if needed.

But when she glanced back, she saw he'd perched himself on the stone wall encircling the home's front garden, tucked beneath the branches of a flowering tree. He lowered his head and a silent understanding passed between them. Evelyn supposed he was right—he often was—she was already bursting into a home fit for a noble wearing wrinkled clothing and a cloak trimmed with ancient runes, and carrying a dirt-splattered satchel. Adding a talking owl would perhaps be too much.

Paulette motioned for Evelyn to follow her deeper into the home, past a line of silent servants who gathered along one side of a wide hallway, concern evident in the lines around their mouths and eyes .

If there was time, Evelyn would have relished the opportunity to wander through the stately home. To study the many paintings on the walls, run her finger over the intricately carved wooden trim work and doors, or admire the way the late afternoon sun streamed through the stained-glass windows and painted a rainbow of colors upon the gleaming wooden floors.

"This way!" Paulette declared as she came to a stop outside a door—carved, like all the others—and beckoned for Evelyn to hurry.

Evelyn pushed aside her cluttered thoughts and stepped into the room, immediately followed by Paulette. A large canopy bed dominated the room, feeling all the larger when Evelyn glimpsed the form of a small girl sunk into its center. A woman, a dark braid hanging over one shoulder, sat on the edge of the bed, speaking softly to the girl.

Evelyn knew the look of a mother whose child was in pain, for it was unmistakable.

Memories of her own mother threatened to engulf her, and Evelyn exhaled slowly through thinned lips. She couldn't go there. Not now.

A young man, perhaps ten years younger than Evelyn's own thirty-two, stood a few paces from the bed, his long fingers clasped behind his back. He turned at the sound of their footsteps, his dark eyes going first to Evelyn, then to Paulette.

"Where is Jarvis?" he asked. He looked too young to be the girl's father, perhaps a brother, Evelyn thought.

"I looked everywhere," Paulette explained, still catching her breath now that the race through town and up the hill had ended. "Some said he might have gone to the settlement in the mountains."

The young man shook his head. "He needs to stay here, in Shieglas, where he belongs," he huffed.

"Hush, James," the woman said, raising her head only for a moment to acknowledge Paulette and Evelyn. "There will be time for that later."

Paulette steered Evelyn forward, passing the still-fuming James. "Ma'am, this here is Evelyn, she's a Sister of Caele and she says she has medicine to break the fever."

The lady of the house, Dora Dunlas, examined Evelyn with a cautious stare, though desperation shone in her glossy eyes. "You can heal my Odette?"

"I will do my best," Evelyn said, nerves trembling as she tugged at her satchel and opened the leather flap. "How long has she had the fever?"

The woman exchanged a glance with Paulette before turning her face back to Evelyn. She was quite striking, even with the dark circles under her eyes and the hollow anguish etched into her features. Her high cheekbones and angled jawline lent a sense of regality, even dressed in a simple linen nightgown and without a single glittering jewel. "This is the third day. It started on Gealamorn. We hosted a meal for some of our neighbors and family, and I thought it strange when Odette refused dessert and went to bed long before the party ended. But she'd been playing outside with her cousins most of the day, so it was not entirely unexpected to find her so exhausted. But in the night, she came to me in bed, her skin slick with sweat, complaining of a stomach pain. We had her drink a bit of the willow bark tea that Jarvis uses for these sorts of things?—"

Evelyn frowned. Willow bark could slightly reduce a fever, but it would not cure what caused the fever to begin with, and would do nothing for stomach pain.

"—and sent her to bed," Dora continued. "But it was not better by morning. If anything, it was worse." She paused to chew nervously at her lower lip, and Evelyn noted the skin peeled raw at the corners of her rosebud mouth. Before she left, she would offer her a simple salve to heal the tender skin.

"Has there been any vomiting?" Evelyn asked.

Dora shook her head. "Only this fever and a terrible pain. She said it felt like—like her bones themselves were on fire." Her voice broke and a tear slid over her cheek as she clutched for her daughter's small hand. "Please—Evelyn—you must do something."

Evelyn glanced up briefly, looking at everyone in the room, and the strained, worried faces peering in through the open doorway. Beside her, Paulette wrung the corners of her apron.

As Evelyn leaned over the sleeping girl's form, she felt the shifting of the thin vial tucked beneath her dress and undergarments, and wondered if perhaps she might need a bit of fortune before the night was over.

With the history provided, Evelyn did an examination of the girl, stirring her momentarily from sleep to get more of an understanding of the pain. No sooner had she finished speaking to her than the girl drifted back to sleep, her hand still clasping her mother's. Dora swallowed down a sob and ran her fingers over her daughter's damp forehead.

"I believe she has an infection," Evelyn declared, her voice quiet but firm. "I have a potion she can take that will help her body heal, and break the fever. It is quite potent, and due to her size, she will need small doses every day until next Talimorn."

"Does it contain willow bark?" Dora asked. "Because we've already tried that?—"

Evelyn reached into her satchel and pressed her fingers along the sides of the supple leather pocket running down its center. The magic channeled from her fingertips into the bag, and she momentarily closed her eyes, extending her will. Something wriggled free, and she opened her eyes once more to find a small glass bottle sitting inside the pocket.

"This is different," she told Dora, handing her the bottle.

Dora considered the opaque potion, swirling it gently as she held it to the rays of fading light streaming through the picture window along the opposite wall. She met Evelyn's eyes, then gave a small nod and leaned over her daughter. Gently, she lifted the girl and roused her long enough to get a sip of the potion past her lips.

Evelyn was confident in the potion, but did not immediately depart. Instead, she waited and continued to check on the girl as dusk turned to night. At one point, Evelyn excused herself to go outside and get some fresh air. In truth, she wanted to check on Archie and let him know what was going on. She lingered a bit, after the owl flew off to chase down his own supper, and as she stood along the outskirts of the front garden, watching the stars poke tiny silver holes in the night sky, Paulette came bounding over to her, a wide smile stretching her face. "You've done it!"

Evelyn followed the maid back inside and found Odette sitting up in bed, her brother, James, now seated on the other side of the bed. "Next time you need some attention, can you just ask, Odie? You gave Mother a terrible fright," he teased the girl, ruffling her unbound hair.

Odette laughed softly. She wasn't at full strength, that would come in time, but she would be all right.

Evelyn breathed a grateful sigh and sent a silent word of gratitude to Caele.

"Oh, Evelyn! Thank you!" Dora exclaimed, jumping up from the bed to rush over and embrace her. She clutched her tightly enough Evelyn could feel her ribs groan, but she smiled all the same. "Thank you, thank you," the woman choked out through happy tears.

"You have been blessed by Caele," Evelyn said, offering a dip of a nod when Dora released her.

" You are the blessing," the woman corrected.

Evelyn knew not to argue.

"James, run and fetch a reward for Evelyn!" Dora said, snapping her fingers to get his attention as he was busy teasing his little sister with one of her stuffed toys, both siblings laughing at the silly game.

He sprang into action at his mother's command, and strode from the room, still grinning widely. He returned with a leather pouch, and presented it first to his mother. When she nodded, he cinched it closed and handed it to Evelyn with a bow of his head. "Thank you, good lady. You have our deepest gratitude."

Evelyn blinked in disbelief as the full weight of the purse came to rest in her open hand. Through the gap in the top of the purse, where the cord bunched the leather together, she caught a glimmer of gold coin .

Sunmarks? Surely not more than one or two, and even that was more than generous?—

It was filled with them.

"This is too much—" she argued, knowing it was rude to count them, and yet, almost unable to stop herself from trying all the same.

She poked into the bag, her eyes growing even wider. "You can't—I cannot?—"

"Oh, hush," Dora said with a laugh. "I'll hear none of that. Now, tell us, will you be staying in Shieglas? Or are you passing through? Paulette mentioned she found you at one of the inns in old town."

"The Silver Fin," Paulette interjected helpfully.

"I—I'm—" Evelyn could not stop staring at the coins. She forced the bag closed and dropped it into her satchel. "I'm only visiting, though I am not sure for how long."

Dora looked almost disappointed, but she nodded. "Well, we certainly wish you the best on your journey, wherever it may lead. If, however, you should find yourself wanting to stay, know you would have plenty of work here in the hilltop district. There are many families who would be quite relieved to have a dedicated healer available."

James tapped a finger to his lips and nodded. "Yes, a private healer would be just the thing."

Evelyn thanked them profusely until Odette dozed off. Only then did she make her goodbyes, ensuring Paulette and the family had clear instructions and enough potion to last through the rest of the girl's treatment .

Afterward, Paulette escorted Evelyn to the road outside the stately home. To Evelyn's surprise, it appeared someone had ordered her a carriage, pulled by two white-and-gray horses. The district was indeed a beacon of light, the lanterns gleaming with blue light.

"This carriage will take you back into old town," Paulette said, gesturing toward the horses that waited patiently along the road. "Thank you once more. And best of luck on your journey, Evelyn Rosewood."

The coachman knew the way, and directed the horses in silence, leaving Evelyn to consider the gleaming fistful of sunmarks resting in the bottom of the satchel on her lap. She was bursting to tell Archie of the sudden stroke of fortune—no potion required.

By the time they arrived at the inn, she'd decided that if Aggy was still willing, she would indeed like to spend the two fernels required for a hot bath before bed, and was already planning which of her herbs and salts might work best to wash off the grit from the nights spent on the road.

The coachman helped her from the carriage and bade her goodnight before hopping back into the driver's seat with a graceful movement that spoke of much practice. He tipped his cap, clucked his tongue at the horses, and the carriage lumbered into motion.

A shadow swooped overhead and a familiar weight settled onto her shoulder. Archie cast a golden-eyed gaze after the carriage and the dappled backsides of the horses. "I know you think they're majestic, but by the Four, Evelyn, the stench those beasts put off!" he scoffed.

She laughed. "Oh, shush. You'll never believe what happened," she said, then paused and looked around. The streets were largely quiet, given the hour, though she imagined some of the livelier taverns along the docks would yet have patrons.

It generally wasn't wise to show off a purse full of coin on a public street corner, especially after nightfall, but she couldn't help herself. With a delirious giggle, she fished into the satchel, the magic coaxing what she sought right to her fingertips, and produced the coin purse, opening it only wide enough for Archie to see its gleaming contents.

He let out a hoot so boisterous, he momentarily levitated from her shoulder, flapping excitedly.

"Shh!" she said, stuffing it back into the satchel. "I can hardly believe it for myself."

"Did you use the fortune potion, then?" Archie asked, settling back onto her shoulder.

"I didn't need to," she replied with a shake of her head. "This must be Caele's blessing."

Archie hooted, the sound bouncing off the inn's front door .

With a smile, Evelyn closed the flap of the satchel and stepped inside. The smells of the previous meal greeted her, herbs and garlic and onion, and, of course, the lingering scent of the delicious molasses bread.

She'd decided on lavender for her bathwater, but was quickly yanked from her indulgent anticipation when the orc came barreling around the counter, his thick arms raised to bar her entrance. She took a stumbling half-step back, only to realize her bedroll and walking stick stood leaning against the wall, when she'd clearly left them locked in her room upstairs.

"Oh, no you don't!" the orc bellowed, loud enough to disturb anyone trying to sleep on the floor above. "You won't be coming one step nearer!"

The faun woman, Aggy, remained behind the counter, her back half turned, as she scrubbed silver tankers in a wash basin. She caught Evelyn's eye and winced, quickly returning to her task as her husband continued his barrage, his heavy footsteps drawing protests from the worn planks. His jaw thrust forward, making the tusks jutting from behind his lower lip appear all the more menacing.

"I—I beg your pardon?"

Archie clutched onto Evelyn's shoulder and leaned forward, narrowing his eyes at the orc. "What's the meaning of this? Have you been going through Evelyn's things?"

The orc ignored the owl, his beady eyes locked in on Evelyn. "You said you're some kind of witch woman?" he snarled. He leaned forward, one large hand planted on the counter. "I should have known, with your talking pet!"

"Pet?!" Archie humphed indignantly, his chest puffing out. "How dare you!"

"That's what you told the merchant's maid," the orc added.

"I—I am a Sister of Caele," Evelyn stammered.

"So, you don't deny it? What have you done with the girl? Put a hex on her?"

"What?" Evelyn reared back. "No, of course not! I gave her a potion to break her fever. In time, she will make a full recovery."

"Bah!"

Evelyn's jaw tightened. "I assure you, my magic is only ever used for good. I was only?—"

A flash of movement caught the corner of Evelyn's eye, and she faltered. Fiona leaned out from the shadows in the hallway, fear in her wide eyes.

"That's enough of your lies!" the orc bellowed. "We don't allow your kind here ." He all but spat out the final words. "Take your things and leave. Now!"

Evelyn turned toward her belongings, though she could not properly see them through the haze of humiliation. Her cheeks went hot and she swung the other way, looking toward the two men seated at the far end of the bar, near the stone hearth. They looked away.

Aggy came around the bar, her washing abandoned, and extended her hand toward Evelyn. "Here is your money returned. Please, do not put a hex on our inn."

The orc sneered at his wife, then made an abrupt gesture that sent her scurrying. Aggy retreated, and gathered her young daughter before disappearing into the recesses of the inn.

"Sir, please, I mean you no harm. Yes, it is true, I am a witch, but surely you can see?—"

The orc raised a meaty hand, one finger extended toward the door, still open at Evelyn's back.

Evelyn's mouth fell open, but the menace and disgust in his beady eyes were enough to silence her.

Without another word, she slipped the silver coins into her pocket, grabbed her bedroll and walking stick, and shuffled back into the cold, dark street.

Behind her, the inn door slammed shut, the force of it enough to rattle her spine. Evelyn looked up the road, hoping to find the carriage, but the streets were abandoned and quiet, without so much as the sound of distant hoofbeats plodding along the cobbled road.

It was too late to hope for accommodation at another inn, and she didn't know where to find the nearest one anyway. She considered walking back up the hill to the merchant's house to ask for lodging, but then remembered what Paulette told her about the gate being closed at night. She undoubtedly looked like the kind of riffraff the guards would aim to keep out. No one would believe her if she said she'd been invited to stay as a guest at one of the wealthy merchants' homes.

So, instead, Evelyn wandered downhill, following her ear toward the sound of the tide. Once she was fully cloaked in shadows, she shook her staff, revealing the enchanted broom, mounted, and flew over a dark section of the city wall, prepared to spend one final night camping in the woods beyond.

As the wind whipped away her furious tears, she wondered if perhaps she ought to have used the fortune potion after all, as it seemed Caele's blessing had come and gone.