A silence stretched on, and I knew that Velga was surprised. Surely, she thought me a spoiled princess who would only lower myself to commune with the dark fae because I was forced to,since I was stranded in the cold after my betrothed’s henchmen chased me into the frozen woods.
“What was this recipe she taught you with delly root?” asked Shearah.
“So you slice them into thin, round slices, fry them in butter then crumble goat cheese on top and drizzle them in honey.”
“That sounds so delicious.”
“It is,” I assured her with a smile. “I saw that you do have honey, though I wouldn’t want to use the small store you have for my dish.”
“I believe the clan would be glad to use it to try this recipe of yours.”
“We’ll need more delly root.”
“That’s right. My stores are running low,” said Shearah. “Bes, why don’t you take Jessamine to the garden and she can help you harvest a basket for us?”
“Yes, of course!” She beamed from ear to ear. “Let’s go, Jessamine!”
After ensuring that Shearah didn’t mind me leaving, I wrapped my cloak around my shoulders and fastened it at my neck. I didn’t want to get them dirty in the garden. Grabbing a basket and Bes’s hand, putting a bright smile on her pretty face, we then set off.
The tents of the camp were scattered between The Sisters’ closest points at their base, which best protected us from the harsher winds. In the valley, there were few trees. It wasn’t until you climbed up the incline where the gap between the bases of the two mountains spread wider that the trees thickened into a woodland. Still, the treeline seemed far away from camp.
“Don’t worry,” said Bes. “We aren’t going into Wyken Woods. The garden is right over there.”
She pointed beyond the last tent where a wooden fence enclosed a rectangular space. The soil was obviously tilled andturned over there in neat rows. Greenish-brown sprouts stuck out of the ground, the tops of the delly root.
“I’m surprised the ground isn’t frozen. And how do you have a garden so quickly? You’ve only been here a few days.”
“Delly root grows wild here, actually. We replant this garden every year before we leave. When we return the following year, it’s always bursting. Of course, much of it is rotten because we were not here the whole year to harvest. But as soon as we clear out the rot, new shoots grow in its place right away.”
“That’s amazing,” I noted. “We can’t grow it near the coast in Morodon. The first time I actually tasted it was when I lived in the Borderlands.”
There were two guards posted not far away, closer to the treeline. One of them was Dayn, who smiled our way. I waved and he gave a nod as we approached the gate of the garden.
“Why did you run away from your home?”
I didn’t remember Bes being at the kella’mir in Vanglosa when I first confessed my sad and somewhat embarrassing story to the council, but she wasn’t a babe. She had likely overheard adults talking about me. Not surprising.
“My father is not a good man,” I told her frankly.
I’d never admitted that aloud until this moment. I’d always known he wasn’t a good father, but I realized that his selfish choices guided by his own greed made him not simply a bad king and father, but a bad man.
“I’m sorry,” said Bes, handing me a trowel that hung on a hook embedded in the fencepost.
“It’s alright.” Though it actually wasn’t. “He had betrothed me to a man who wanted to use my magick to do something evil. I refused to accept the fate chosen by my father. So I left.”
Her face was serious as she knelt upon a wooden plank placed along the outside edge of the row, obviously to protect a harvester’s clothes and keep off the cold ground.
“Well, I am glad that you ran away. And I’m glad that you found us.”
“I am, too,” I admitted freely as I knelt beside her. “I’ve never harvested delly root, so you’ll have to show me what to do.”
She blushed. “Oh, it’s easy. See these sprouts here that are dark green? Those aren’t ripe yet. This one here where the top has turned brown, that means it’s ready.”
“I see.”
We began to work our way down the row, moving the basket between us. After a few minutes of us digging out the ripe vegetables, Bes glanced over her shoulder then scooted closer to me.
“What kind of magick do you have?” she whispered, as if she sought a well-guarded secret.
