Once upon a time, I had thought Roger hung one of the moons, but now that I’d had . . . experience . . . with Leif, I was quick to notice that he was on the thin side for a man, his facepale and slightly sickly looking from spending his hours inside the shop rather than outdoors with the other boys as a child. His dark hair was askew and falling in front of his dark eyes as he explained the specials to Friar.
She bypassed all the raw meats, moving to the section of the counter that held sandwich supplies. She ordered one before turning to me, a question in her gaze.
“I’m fine,” I replied, putting my hand on my stomach as if it could explain the sudden sick feeling that had been there since my brother, my only remaining family, had basically turned me away.
Of course, that drew Roger’s gaze to me, his neck dipping as he gave me a once-over. I immediately felt uncomfortable, looking to Friar for help, but she just shook her head.
Roger’s gaze didn’t linger, and soon I was watching as Friar passed some coins over the counter before heading for the door.
He either didn’t recognize me or was distracted by work.
Once we were in the square, the door to the butcher closed behind us, Friar bit into her sandwich as she moved toward the waterless fountain. “See? That wasn’t a big deal.” She lowered her voice for the second part. “You’ve basically been given a whole new life, Runa. Don’t let fear of who you used to be hold you back, okay?”
I nodded my agreement, content to watch villagers rush from shop to shop, various items tucked beneath their arms as Friar unceremoniously stuffed bite after bite of the sandwich into her mouth. When she finished, she brushed her fingers off.
“So, who else in your class grew up without parents?”
“Huh?” I was confused.
“Think about it. The Purge was ten years ago, meaning there must be other students in your class who were also parentless. That boy in there, his father was alive and in the back carving a steer. He wouldn’t be part of the coven.”
My mouth went dry. “But his mother . . .” The words wouldn’t come, but Friar was able to discern where I was headed.
“Shit. So, your friend in there is probably at least half.”
I nodded. “But I’m not sure he would know anything,” I surmised. “I didn’t.”
“Yeah, well.” She smirked. “Your parents were more secretive than most. Come on.” She turned back toward the butcher. “I bet Roger knows at least something about who his mother associated with before her death.”
Friar was right. Though Roger hadn’t recognized me, he had known some of the people his mother had been friends with before her death. Not only that, but, in hushed whispers, he was able to give us the name of the current coven leader his mom had been known to associate with. And to my surprise, she had managed to avoid the Purge and was alive and well. At least, she had been when Roger had gone to see her a few months back.
I wanted to ask why he had gone to see her, but I knew that would take the conversation down a path I didn’t want it to go. Instead, I memorized the directions he gave to her home on the edge of Ralheim, and we were currently headed there.
We’d also asked Roger if he’d be willing to join us, but he had shaken his head sadly with a glance at his father.
He couldn’t leave him.
This whole trip was turning out to be a waste of time, and I just hoped the coven matriarch would be able to do something more than shake her head and turn us away.
Signa (Roger didn’t know her family name) lived in a small home on the very edge of town, past the nicer homes that surrounded the square, and even past where the more modest ones—like the home I had grown up in—resided. She was so far on the edge that, had the old city wall remained, she likely would have been on the outside of it.
But as we approached, I immediately knew why she was there and not in the city center. She had a massive vegetable andherb garden which stretched from the edge of her home into the woods. There was even a small pond nearby, the surface dotted with ripples as fish searched the surface for food.
If I’d gotten to pick where in Ralheim I had grown up, it would have definitely been here.
Friar didn’t seem as distracted as I was by the beautiful surroundings. She was a woman with a goal in mind, and growing up in Salheim, she likely was more used to nature being this close than I was. She was already at the door when I stooped down to smell a pink flower I didn’t recognize.
Before she could reach the door, it swung open, revealing a small elderly woman, who’s head barely came to my waist. At first, I thought that she had spotted us approaching, but as we drew closer, it became apparent something else was at play here, as the woman’s eyes swam in a milky whiteness. She was blind.
“Come in.” She motioned past her to a dimly-lit interior. Friar waltzed right in, but I followed more hesitantly, taking a moment to breathe in my surroundings. I had been trapped far too many times during the previous season in quarters such as these. My heart sped up as I crossed the doorstep.
The interior of the home was small but cozy, with everything situated in one room—including her bed and tub, which were off to one side, as well as a small kitchen with few amenities. The sitting area was quaint, mismatching furniture all pushed together around a small wooden table where cards were scattered atop the smooth surface.
I turned back to the outside, trying to discreetly check if the door had a locking mechanism.
“No lock; you can leave anytime.” The woman, presumably Signa, smiled, even as fear coursed through me.
“How did you?—”
