24

Once Jadon leaves, Veril helps me stand and we hobble together down a short hallway, stopping occasionally so that I can catch my breath and manage the pain. We reach another room with soft lantern light, a small bed, and a window that overlooks that silver creek far below.

“You’ll recover here, dearest.” The old man settles me onto the bed, pulls off my boots, and says, “Let’s get you out of these rags.” He uses shears to cut away the torn pants and cuts the back of my tunic up the middle.

I pull off my shirt and gingerly remove my pants.

Veril leaves the room and returns quickly with a basin of fresh water.

I prop a pillow against the headboard and sit back. “Really, thank you for your kind hospitality.”

“Oh, you don’t have to thank me.” He shuffles over to a large wood trunk and opens the lid. “Now tell me about your companion. Are you two… together ?”

“When you say ‘together’…?”

“Betrothed, dearest.” Veril pulls a blanket out of the chest. “Or simply…enjoying the benefits of such?”

I bark out a laugh and wince. Even that simple movement causes pain to shoot up my leg. “Far from the first and far from the second, to be honest.”

He lifts an eyebrow. “Does the man not see you?”

“He does, but it’s complicated,” I say. “He’s kind. He’s brave. He’s a pleasure to behold.”

Veril snorts. “You can do better.” He rolls up the blanket and arranges it beneath my leg, providing slight relief from the incessant throbbing.

I place a finger to my lips. “Let me guess. You have a nephew over in Pethorp you want me to meet.”

Veril chortles and returns to the chest for a bar of soap, a sponge, a large towel, and a clean linen robe the color of flames. “Call if you need me,” he says, tottering from the room.

The water that Veril left is cool against my skin. The soap smells of fresh lemon and mint. The sponge is clean and fluffy. I look over my shoulder to see if I can glimpse the marking there. No luck. I try to glimpse the marking beneath my left breast. I spot only a shape that could be a box.

Once I’m cleaned up and wrapped in the robe, Veril rolls in a chair with wheels. “You may join me up front if you wish—that’s where I’ll be preparing more poultices for your injuries as well as breakfast.”

Whatever he’s cooking smells incredible. “I’d like to come up front with you, please.” I wiggle to the edge of the bed.

After he rolls me to the worktable, he shuffles to the hearth. There, a kettle bubbles into the fire. He plucks a leaf from a plant twisting around the cupboard and tears it over the brew. “How did you come to acquire such a special pendant, if I may ask?”

“I don’t remember how I acquired it,” I say, frowning, “but it’s always been mine. You’re not suggesting that I stole it, are you?”

“I’m suggesting that amulets like the one you wore are extremely rare. I haven’t seen one in person in ages. And yet here you are, wearing one. Or you were until…”

“It’s mine,” I say. “It was made for me even though I don’t…” I twist my hands in my lap, clamp my lips, and square my shoulders. “Recent events have caused me to forget some things.” Some? “Some memories are missing.”

“If you hit your head fighting burnu,” Veril says, chuckling, “you should be happy that your memory is the only part of you that’s missing.”

Will I have to admit to everyone I meet that a big part of me is missing? That I can no longer recall what I was doing prior to a few mere dawns ago? That I no longer remember my surname or the shape of my mother’s face? Something about this kindly Renrian makes me want to trust him, and I know I will eventually open up to him. For now, though…

“What do you know about amulets like mine?”

Veril stares into his bubbling pot. “I know that they are special and hold powerful magic that is inaccessible even to me…and to most. Its wearer—any wearer—will be endowed with whatever qualities are attributed to it, but only the true owner can access its full capabilities.”

“So it wouldn’t be totally useless to someone…?”

Like Olivia. Or Philia. Or even Jadon.

“Not totally useful, but not completely useless. Definitely not safe to wear for anyone other than its owner. That’s because amulets are blessed pieces. There are repercussions for blocking another’s blessing, yes?” He peers back at me. “No, it’s never wise to wear the items not made for you…except for that linen robe. You look lovely—better than I ever did. That shade of tangerine makes you look healthier than you are.”

I tap my hair, mocking my trampled beauty. “And if someone finds my pendant and wears it?”

“If they wear it for a prolonged time, it will be the last thing they’ll wear. Ever. ”

“Well, I’ve certainly survived wearing it so far.”

Though this is some fucked-up surviving.

The Renrian brings a stool to sit before me with a brush and jar of oil that smells of rosemary and eucalyptus. With great care, starting at the top of my thigh, he removes the gauze to expose the violent gash. “Sometimes,” he says, slathering the thick concoction over my bare leg, “the best thing to do when healing is nothing at all. You’ll need to be still for a few days, dearest. Let the medicines work.”

He brushes my leg with oil and then rolls the gauze back over the wound. “Now be still as I look at…” He pushes the tangerine-colored robe aside and peels away more gauze to peer at the wound on my hip. “That is the ugliest thing these walls have ever seen.” He straightens, then dips his brush into the salve. “You’re lucky to be sitting upright in this chair, Just Kai.”

I wince as the oil seeps into my skin.

He works in silence for a moment, then says, “Tell me. What brought you to the dreary hamlet of Maford? And what brought you here to these woods? How in all the realms did you end up requiring my services after a fight with burnu?”

I may be hurting, but that doesn’t mean I can’t laugh, and so I do. “That’s a long story.”

“We have plenty of time,” he says.

True. So, I tell him everything—from Olivia stealing my necklace and Wake’s men invading the village, from Sybel scolding me, Elyn and her threats and otherworldly creatures, to our flight from Maford. Through my entire tale, Veril listens with interest, not scoffing or doubting. Occasionally he nods but never interrupts or interjects.

“I worry that Elyn is hunting me, even now,” I say. “The burnu in the wood—do you think maybe she sent them?”

“She very well might have.” Veril’s tone is strangely light.

“And you aren’t worried—?”

“I’m a Renrian, dearest.” He spreads his arms out and smiles. “My cottage is protected and enchanted. No one will find you here unless I let them. And I won’t let them.”

“Even against someone who commands otherworldly?”

He points to his staff, Warruin. “She is fully capable of hiding you from roaming mercenaries, dearest—even one who knows a spell or two. You’ll have enough time to recover before you confront her, but we’re not at that point yet, are we? Until you are, I will shift the elements around my cottage to make it difficult to detect.”

I sag with relief, and the turmoil in my stomach eases. “You can do that?”

“I performed grander tricks in my younger days.” Before he sits on the stool beside me, he stretches, and his bones click-click-click. “Years ago, I performed one of my best illusions for King Exley: walking through the wall that surrounds the castle. That afternoon, he and his courtiers arrived, and musicians played, and it was all so very dramatic.”

“Let me guess,” I say. “You used shadow and light.”

He lifts his chin. “ Well , dearest. I did walk through the wall. You see, Kai. That part of the wall had crumbled away due to age and earthshake. The king’s head mason, a dear friend of mine, had asked weeks before that I enchant that part of the wall while he recovered from a sprained back. After I hid the gap, only he knew that part of the wall had crumbled away.

“So, for the performance, I simply chose the spot where there was no wall. I tricked the king and never told my mason friend how I did it—I would’ve opened myself to extortion, maybe even death, because people, even dear friends, can turn on you. And that is why you should—”

“Never tell someone your entire plan,” I say. “They may use it against you.”

“And that, Just Kai, is the point.” He bows his head.

“Thank you.” I smile gratefully at him. “Since you know all the things, as you say, there’s something I’m in need of.” I chew on my bottom lip, preparing for disappointment. “Do you have a spell to help me remember more about myself?”

“Of course I do. And I also have something to help you forget—but that’s just a bottle of wine as old as my father.”

I laugh. “Let me remember a little more first before we open that.”

Veril stands. “I must warn you, Just Kai, I have a memory elixir, but no one has ever tried it. It may work. It may not. If it doesn’t, then we’ll have to prepare another, which means foraging for the materials needed to brew it. But before I administer the existing elixir, you must eat. Never drink magic on an empty stomach.”