Total pages in book: 204
Estimated words: 193124 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 966(@200wpm)___ 772(@250wpm)___ 644(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 193124 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 966(@200wpm)___ 772(@250wpm)___ 644(@300wpm)
Knock. Knock.
“Now what.” I glare at the door. “Have you forgot something—”
“Sorrel?” A male voice—not Merc’s—brings me to instant attention. “Sorrel, are you—”
Without thinking, I undo the bolt and yank the panels open. Ronl, the new father, is on the other side, standing in the corridor in his brown felt suiting, his eyes behind his glasses shifting over his shoulder, as if he’s anxious he was followed. When he refocuses on me, he flushes and looks at the gray floorboards.
Oh, he’s not anxious about what’s in his wake. Of course he doesn’t want to be caught anywhere near me.
The warmth and hospitality he offered as we were leaving was him overcome with emotion. But he’s returned to his senses now—as they all do.
I pull the sheeting up higher. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s Lena,” he says urgently. “She needs you.”
Forty-Nine
Sister.
As I make my second trip through the rain to the herbist shop, I’m back in the red felt outfit and I have its hood up to protect Ronl. He’s leading the way, and all I can say is at least what comes out of the gray sky is no longer horizontal and most of the orange lightning has stopped. I’ve never seen a storm last this long, and feel compelled to express this, but between all the water falling and the wind that can’t seem to choose a direction, there’s no conversation between myself and Lena’s husband. Not that he’s looking for any.
There’s much mud, however. So much mud.
Felt shoes would be nice. Or maybe a rowboat.
When we get to the shop after what feels like quite a trek, Ronl jumps ahead and unlocks the door with a big key.
“Is she in the—”
“She’s in the—”
As if she’d be anywhere else but the bedroom.
Rushing down the aisle, I skip around the counter and the register of cash, and see nothing of the kitchen on my way to the open doorway—
When I get a view of the bed, I stop so fast, I trip and nearly fall on my face. Across the gray-boarded space, sitting up against the headboard, Lena is smiling as she cradles her infant to her chest. Ronl’s beloved wife has freshly braided hair and is in a clean white shift. Likewise, the bedclothes have all been changed, and there’s a smoking dish of incense sweetening the air with the scent of phosies and trill.
“My sis—” I stop short, remembering my place.
For all we shared the night before, I remind myself that we are but strangers in the light of day, only my inner loneliness linking us now—
Lena holds her steady hand out to me. “Come, see what you helped into the world.”
For a moment, I’m not sure I’ve heard right, and I’m vaguely aware of Ronl stepping in behind me. But then Lena sends her husband a radiant smile and holds out the bundled bairn to me.
“Come, see.”
An utterly unfamiliar feeling of warmth and friendship envelops me, all of it coming from her. In response, it’s like I’m on a cloud as I go over to the bed, and when Lena pats the mattress beside her, I sit down.
After which I find myself holding her precious child.
I hate that I must avoid the eyes of the little girl, because the face staring up at me is so perfectly formed, I want to take note of each and every feature. As it is, I linger on the tiny little mouth and the button chin, the chubby dark cheeks and the dusting of fine, dark curls.
I want to believe this precious gift will live forever. So I cannot bear to meet her stare.
“Oh, Lena.” I glance over, keeping my eyes just above the new mother’s head, on the tight braids of her dark hair. “She’s so beautiful.”
“She is called Gloriana, after my mother.” Lena’s voice chokes up. “I lost her just a year ago.”
Closing my eyes, I shake my head. “I am so sorry.”
“Thank you. I will honor my mother’s memory by raising my daughter to be a healer, like us.”
“Your mother was also one?”
“No, like you and me. We are healers.”
I go very still. I suppose the word fits, but I can’t say as I’ve ever known what I am. Refocusing, I glance at the bowl of astringent that still sits on the table nearby. It, too, has been changed, the water clear, no longer bloody.
“Ronl said you needed to see me?” I look at the stitching on her bed dress’s bodice. “Are you having difficulty?”
Lena shakes her head. “You did what the mistress who taught me would have done. I’d have helped myself in just the same way, but I didn’t have the strength.” She reaches out and touches my knee. “I cannot thank you enough. If you hadn’t come to the shop when you did…”
“It was fate.” I run a forefinger across the bairn’s chubby cheek. “And sometimes the invisible ropes that link strangers can be kind.”