I didn’t know what was to come, but I’d had enough of hiding here, with only my dog and my godfather for company. I wanted to be back in the world, back with people. I didn’t know what my terribly long life was meant to accomplish, but puttering my days away in a hazy void wasn’t it.
“Merrick?” I called, certain he was near, sure he’d lingered after last night’s dinner, waiting for another slice of that gold-dusted cake.
The cottage door opened and my godfather poked his enormous frame beneath the lintel. “Is everything all right, Hazel?”
I stood up, tossing my quilt to the bed. For the first time in nearly two years, I felt alert. I felt sure-headed. I felt like myself.
“I think I’d like to go home now.”
Merrick’s smile was immediate and wide. “I’m glad to hear it.”
Chapter 21
The knock at my frontdoor sounded before I was even aware that Merrick had snapped his fingers.
I was back in my kitchen in Alletois, and though everything seemed in order, laid out exactly as I had left it, I could feel the time that had passed. The air was too still, unstirred by thethousands of daily gestures and movements that were meant to fill the space, imbuing it with life.
It smelled funny too.
Not because Kieron’s shell was still there—it was the first thing I checked, craning my neck around the corner with pained apprehension. I wondered how he’d been found, what his parents had thought when they’d discovered him laid out on my worktable, scalp shaved, skull drilled into. If they hadn’t thought me a witch before, they certainly did now. How they must have cursed my name, ruing the day he ever came across me. It was a marvel the house had been allowed to remain at all. Surely someone tried to burn it to the ground.
The pounding came again, an impatient rapping that jarred me from my miserable musing.
“Open in the name of the king!” a voice bellowed.
Cosmos raced to the door, seemingly unperturbed by our abrupt change of location.
“Merrick?” I called, hoping my godfather had lingered.
The house remained still, my call unanswered.
With a sigh, I went to the front door and swung it open before the visitor could resume his shouting.
In the yard were four mounted riders clad in the black-and-gold livery of the king. Their black stallions danced nervously as Cosmos raced out to greet them, barking joyously.
The man at my door appeared to be the squadron’s captain. Older than the other guards and boasting an impressive set of thick and unfashionable muttonchops, he towered over me. Rows of dazzling medallions were affixed to the left of his chest, blinding me with their brilliance.
“Are you the healer woman?”
I paused, wondering what would happen if I denied it.
“We were told this was the cottage of Alletois’s healer.” He glanced behind me, undoubtedly noting the signs of two years’ worth of neglect. “It wasn’t clear if anyone still lived here,” he continued, sounding uncertain.
“I’ve been away for a bit,” I admitted.
“So youarethe healer,” he challenged.
I longed to shut the door in his face. “I am.”
“They say you perform miracles.”
“Occasionally.” I expected the men to smile, and when they did not, I shrugged helplessly. “I’m only a healer. Nothing more, nothing less.”
“You’re to come with us.” The captain set his lips into a firmline.
I bristled at his presumption. “Am I? Is someone ill? Injured?”
“It doesn’t matter. We’ll have to set off within the hour if we’re to return to Châtellerault by sunset.”
