“I’m tired.”
“No more than our John Doe,” he quipped, returning our attention to the subject. “There seems to have been an allergic reaction.There is swelling in the throat and some internal bleeding, but no chemical that reads to me as suspicious. The contents of his stomach were nothing unusual. I would say he ate something that didn’t quite agree with him, but his body says he did that in addition to being bitten by a snake. Unless he keeps critters like that handy, it’s unlikely at this time of year. An illness that just looks like an allergy, or something imported. I am starting to suspect some type of fever.” Henry pinched the corpse’s cheeks to look down its throat.
Henry was a bright young man. He was under the guise that I was preparing to become an undertaker, which wasn’t entirely untrue. He just didn’t know it was so I could study the Vipera and their effects on humans without suspicion. Here, I could dig through the corpses in peace.
“How peculiar. What else?” I loomed over his shoulder to peek.
“Asphyxiation, as far as I can tell. Possibly an allergy to an insect due to some traits of the blood, but it is winter.” He removed his hands from the cadaver before turning to look at me.
The coroner’s son was short, or just shorter than me. His sandy blond head rose to my shoulder. I am sure he was looking to take over after his father, with how passionate he was for the trade.
“How odd,” I commented. “Any other outliers recently?”
“That depends on what your definition of outlier is.” He shrugged and wiped his hands on a used rag. “Though, I did get a corpse that was thought to have rabies before passing.”
“How can you tell?”
“You can’t. But the description is similar to other cases. Could be the same virus or affliction. It’s the best answer we have, for now,” Henry explained, his chestnut-colored eyes lit up as he spoke about the intricacies of cadavers.
He was passionate about his work; I would always respect that. Undertakers were the caretakers of the dead. We trustedthem to tell our truths, and to make sure we were truly at rest when we finally slipped into the final wooden walls that we would call home. It was an amicable profession, one of the few sacred things left that transcended tradition and religion. It was simple admiration of life and respect for the dead. Precisely why I chose to begin apprenticing.
“Leaving so soon?” I asked as he gathered his coat.
“It’s not like my clients pay any mind.” He tipped his head toward the cadavers.
“Unless you get a walk-in.”
“Nowthatwould be a reason to leave even earlier.” He shook his head before popping on his flat cap, holding the door for me as he waited to lock up.
The ride homewas always a bit slow. I was tired from work, but there was more to do at home. The household could not upkeep itself. Just because I founded this little home of ours, does not mean I would slack off on work. If I had energy to give, I was a strong believer in giving it. The girls worked so hard, it would be disrespectful not to work harder as the person who managed it all.
The first thing I did when I got home was continue to the back of the house, gathering some wood pieces from our neat and bountiful pile. The fire would be dying down from lunchtime, and it would be about time to feed it.
I put on an apron—not that any ash or soot would show on my gloomy attire. The fire would crackle and fill the house with the scent of smoked hickory. I made sure to put on hardwood so that it would last a bit longer. I used the heat to boil a kettle, pouring myself some tea before I started on the chores for the afternoon.
Most of the girls did some form of work throughout the day. Some worked at the hospital with Edith, while others brought their own trades.
Rebecca worked at her parents’ butchery. Mary was a seamstress; Cordelia was a furrier and dressmaker; and Adeline was a baker. Whatever we needed, it could be provided by the women of our Nest, be they Vipera or Host. We took care of each other, which was a nice change from fending for ourselves. We were all bound by the mission of making the most out of ourselves and giving to the world the best that we could.
I started by making a midday meal while the fire was still alive. I used the heat to prepare some leftover bread so we could make sandwiches. I ate one myself so that I did not need to stop until supper for a break. I was behaving well by staying away from liquor until after dusk, but I suppose that urge was suppressed by the multitude of cigarettes throughout the day on top of my other homemade injections.
“Rebecca,” I called to the dark-haired woman in the living room, “can you spare us three geese for Christmas from your father’s shop? I can give you money in advance.”
“Yes! Let me know when you would like them, and I can take the order.” She smiled as she sat down to eat her spread with her peers.
“Cordelia!” I caught her as she came down the stairs. I met her at the railing. “I have some pelts—do you have an estimate for me? I would like to have them worked for Christmas for Phoebe. I’m thinking mittens.”
“I don’t mind doing it for you without a cost. I already feed on your dime,” she laughed.
“Ah, just give me a number, and I will make it work,” I said as I passed her.
The next chore was to groom the horses and turn them out. I enjoyed the task, even though it smelled unpleasant in the barn,and I always found myself coated in dust from all the brushing. I did love my steed, my handsome Horse, and his pretty mare, Duchess.
Their bodies were full muscle and tall, and even with my height, I had to reach for some spots when grooming. Noble animals, they were. Doing whatever we told them without question. In return, we fed them and gave them shelter. Though sometimes I found myself napping with them in their stalls when they would lay down in the hay. They were so warm and charmingly absentminded; it was hard to resist snuggling such a beast.
I turned them out to the small paddock after grooming. The two horses loved to watch and run along the fence when other carriages would pass along the road. Phoebe’s and my horses were inseparable, always grazing next to each other. Sometimes Duchess would nip at Horse if he was not paying enough attention to her. It was humorous watching their innocent interactions.
As I leaned against the paddock fence, a presence settled beside me.
