I wanted a life.
“Not necessarily.” Ayla strode over to the counter and dove into the cupboards. Moments later, she tossed me a sachet. “Go ahead, open it.”
I undid the straps to see gray ash. “This is...”
“The remaining ash from the ash tree that was burned,” she said.
“How did you even get it?”
“Not easily. That is what I’ll say about it. Sprinkle the ash onto a blade and shove it deep into his chest. That should kill him.”
“Should?” I closed the sachet, skeptical. “I don’t know this is—”
Blood gargled from my throat, and I hacked it up onto the table, blushing in shame.
“My guess is this is not the first attack you’ve had.” Ayla scooted a napkin my way, and I murmured athanks, cleaning up the mess.
I nodded. “The doctors don’t have any idea what it is. At first, they assumed it was consumption, but as it progressed, my symptoms deviated with the same prognosis. I’m not expected to last the year.”
Ayla took the napkin and tossed it into the fireplace. The fabric disappeared in mere moments, the same way I would not if I were to go into this plan.
“I might just have the thing to at least ease the coughing spells.”
Ayla flew to the countertop filled with her dry herbs, arms moving in time to an invisible beat as she mixed and ground. She pushed up the sleeves of her dress, then dumped the mixture from the mortar into a sachet. With her movements precise, it was memorizing to watch as she flew across the small space.
She handed another satchel to me, the heady scent coming from the bag. “Take a sprinkle of this when there is a cough attack. It’s not a cure-all, but it should ease the symptoms more so than whatever your doctor had been prescribing. I have seen this type of disease before, the kind that is ravishing your body. Unfortunately, there are not a lot of remedies.”
I held the black wool satchel, a few thoughts coming to mind on the life I wanted to cultivate. “Do you mind if I come back—if I came back to learn from you until I—until I...”
She nodded, drumming her nails against the wood of the table. “Yes, I think I like that very much.”
I rubbed my thumbs against the two satchels. The ash satchel’s bright outer shell hid the true danger it could inflict.
“How much of the ash is needed onto a blade?”
Ayla’s smile faltered. “A sprinkle upon a silver blade should do the trick. With that said, you only have one shot to kill him.”
I almost did not want to know the answer to the question weighing on my mind since walking into the cottage.
“And if I don’t?” I stuffed the satchels into my dress pocket, preparing to leave.
Ayla walked me to the door, her voice a soft whisper. “Let us hope that it does not come to that.”
Eleven
“Is something wrong, Little Dove?” Silas cooed from the other end of the table, his wine glass in plain sight.
There had been a few iterations of the plan I thought through, and either option was not entirely a good plan, but with the ash sachet hidden in my pocket, I only had one shot. Since I sat, his wine glass had been empty. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so quiet.”
I dragged the fork across the plate, pushing around sad carrot slices. Time had been hard to keep track of, but after gauging my monthly cycle, it had been nearly a month since the wedding. I held off trying to do anything with powder since the day with Ayla, and still, it burned me to use it.
I shifted, the feeling of the steel bracing my hip. “I just have a lot to think about, that’s all.” I placed my fork down onto the tablecloth.
He lifted his chin and chuckled. “Like, what, making plans of escaping or perhaps concocting ways to send me to my maker?”
I took up my glass, swirling the wine before sipping. Anxiety ate at my nerves, and the unsettlement of the wine did not help much. I thought of the mother and the child who were at death’s door because of the man before us—before me. If I didn’t try today, when would I do the one thing those down in the village could not?
I shook my head, forcing every ounce of courage I can muster, and straightened myself in my seat. “Actually, I was thinking of something far more interesting and involving a lot less-layers. Quite frankly, I have been unoccupied as of late and thoroughly bored.”
