A clipping fell to my nose, and I huffed a breath to dislodge it. “There is only one that matters.”
Pausing from her work, Maerel tilted my chin to her. “You are a difficult read, Lark.”
I scoffed, and her eyes lingered on my lips just a moment before she dropped her touch.
“Perhaps you should scowl less.”
Amusement drew a faint smile, pulling at the corner of my lips and lightening my sullenness.
Maerel sighed heatedly. She brushed her thumb at my cheek and faintly bit her bottom lip. “Yes,” she said, voice heady. “More of that.”
Though I held the half smile, it was not real. I lowered my gaze so as not to give myself away. No, Maerel was not Nyana, and her counsel, in truth, left me with little more guidance than I’d come into the conversation with. While I appreciated the gesture, my heart thrummed with a dull ache as I longed for the gentle words and comforting embrace of the woman who had raised me. I mulled over the ever-pressing swirl of unknowns—how to understand the woman from the festival, what to make of our bond, how to ease myself of her distraction, or if I should listen to the magic that connected us and pursue her. All added to the frustration in my already burdened mind.
Overhead,the sun beamed in a cloudless sky. I lifted my face, drinking in its warmth. The heavy inn doors behind me shut, and I let out a breath. In my right hand, I held a list of items Maerel needed from the market. Somehow, I’d become her errand runner.
Beyond the inn’s small courtyard, a wagon pulled by two black horses rolled along the main road. A moment later, a couple of children ran by, laughing joyously, entirely devoid of troubles. I envied that.Though my hood was drawn, apprehension still weighed on me at the prospect of being out in the open.
I crossed the cobbled path, stopping at the wall that bordered the inn’s courtyard. Broken iron hinges set into the stone suggested the presence of a gate at one time.
Following the road, I kept to the shadows to draw less attention to myself and turned right at the corner. The market ahead was busy, bustling with men, women, and children moving about the stands and shops. Unease hummed through my veins.
I frowned, addressing Maerel’s list. Where to begin? The sooner I completed my shopping, the sooner I could return to the inn. Working the bar would be my best chance at securing transport of a letter to Harlan.
It had been three days since I arrived in Elrune and two days since I last saw the woman in the pastures. Each time the front doors to the inn opened, I raised my eyes with hope despite knowing the distraction she caused, but the woman never came. Neither did a huntsman. It was time to begin devising another plan.
The nearest stall to where I stood displayed a variety of cheeses. It was as good a place to start as any. If I kept my eyes down and my hood drawn. When I approached the stand, a portly man stood to greet me. I didn’t raise my eyes to see hisface. He wore a beige tunic and a long red jacket with buttons. The rich color of the jacket told me his stand had done well, or perhaps that was the intention of the outerwear, and it was only a façade—he’d splurged on one piece of clothing to give an air of importance, of superiority over others who sold similar products at the market.
“That’s a gruyère,” the man said, gesturing. “It’s one of my best sellers.”
Drawing the cords of the coin purse Maerel sent me with, I read the price list laid on the table flat before me, searching for “gruyère.” I didn’t have the slightest knowledge of the value of cheese or whether his prices were reasonable. I’d never worried about money in the past, but now I was spending earnings that were not my own. Hesitantly, I handed the coppers over and selected one of the pale wheels. The man seemed too eager as he took the coins from my hand. Perhaps I should have bargained.
Moving through the market with my eyes trained on the stone and boots of shoppers as they passed, I worked down the list until the basket Maerel lent me was nearly full.
Leaving the bakery, a voice caught my attention, and I turned toward it. A few shops down to my right, the cobbler spoke to someone in front of his store. His eyes met mine, and he raised his chin. A challenge. I held his gaze. Would he pose a problem?
The last item on my list was an order from the apothecary next door. The doorbell chimed when I pushed through, and a man at the front counter offered an unenthusiastic greeting. The shop smelled of earth and spices, and along the walls, shelves displayed an eclectic arrangement of containers filled with different ground powders and crushed leaves or dried flowers. Plants hung behind the counter, drying. The space was cozy, homey. Light streamed in from three windows, one at my back facing the market and two along the right wall. The side windowswere tucked into alcoves that looked out to a garden and beyond that, the front of the stables.
I crossed to the man at the counter. His hair was braided at the side and tied up, and when he studied me, I couldn’t shake the feeling I’d seen him before. Swallowing, I set a slip on the counter that Maerel gave me with the shopping list. “I’m picking up an order.”
The man knelt to pull a basket from behind the counter. He sorted through the items, reading tags. “Here.” He handed me a packet as he stood. “Seven ferres.”
Figuring medicine wasn’t something to be bargained over, and eager to be done with my shopping and free from the unplaceable familiarity of the apothecary, I handed over the coin. He grunted his thanks.
Just as I turned to leave, the doorbell rang and the storekeeper lifted his head, frowning. “Where’s Evera?”he asked.
“She hasn’t returned yet?” a voice behind me replied.
I gathered my items, not wanting to be in the middle of their conversation.
“No, I thought she was with you.”
I turned; in the doorway stood the cobbler. I set my jaw, and his eyes narrowed briefly before he looked past me.
“I left her some two hands ago,” Ruairc said, using the common way of telling time in more rural areas where there were no bell towers rung at the head of each hour by a timekeeper.
I reached the door, and as I pushed it open, a memory fell over me. The bell above the door rang, marking my departure, and I stepped outside.
The man at the counter … I recognized him from when I awoke in my monster’s form. He’d stood beside Ruairc, and he’d carried the same voice as the man who rode home with—
