The room was stilldark when I woke up.My pillowcase was wet with the tears that stung my cheeks.
I pushed myself up to my elbows and shoved aside my blankets.That dream hadn’t been a dream; it was a memory.One that I had buried so deep that sometimes I could go months without thinking about it.Being back here reminded me of why I left and that I had never been welcome in the first place.
Before long, the candles on my desk were lit and I had taken my dress form out of my satchel.The stand had gone askew in storage and made the whole thing wobble, but luckily it was still in one piece.I had managed to shape the form to Narcissa’s exact measurements by padding out some areas, hopefully eliminating the need for fittings.
The floor space was cramped, but I made do with it.I rolled out the bolt of silk satin I’d purchased from Blanche de Clare and cut out one of my tried and true flared skirt patterns, this time to the correct length.Sewing always put my mind at ease.By the time I had finished basting the panels together, my eyes had dried and the tightness had left my throat.
Through my window, the soft light of outdoor lanterns streamed in, though the sky was still pitch black.It seemed that the weather issue hadn’t solved itself overnight.Sounds of Ma splashing her face in the washroom could be heard a few doors down.I assumed it was early morning.
This was the perfect time to leave for Beatrice’s shack and see how Edmund was doing.It would be far more difficult to leave later, as I would have to explain where I was going to Ma.
Grabbing my satchel, I dressed quickly and yanked my hair back into a simple tail, forgoing my typical braid.Ma was still bustling around in the washroom.I blew out the candles on my desk, plunging the room into darkness, and strained to conjure a witchlight on my palm as I slipped out of my room into the corridor.A tiny blue light the size of a mung bean sputtered to life, illuminating a radius no larger than three inches.I never had Chrissy’s talent for conjuring.
I tiptoed blindly down the stairs and pushed open the front door.Due to the lack of sunlight, the air was colder outside, sending goosebumps along my forearms.I unrolled the sleeves of my blouse, suppressing a shiver.Whatever elements I had to brave to avoid Ma was worth it.After quietly closing the door, I whirled around, not expecting to run headfirst into Maddox.
My mung bean light sputtered out.
“What are you doing here so early?”I whispered, blinking rapidly and trying to calm my racing heartbeat.
Maddox bounced on the balls of his feet, holding a regular oil lantern which threw shadows over his face, exacerbating the dark circles under his eyes.“I slept in a shack with a sick man who snores up a storm,” he said hoarsely.“How many more nights of this do I have to suffer?”
“How is Edmund?”I asked.
“Is heallyou care about?”
That was a stupid question.“Yes, obviously.He’s the whole reason we’re here.”
Maddox looked heavenward.“Let’s go investigate the weather, then.”
Right.I had wanted to check in on Edmund first, but I supposed fixing the weather issues took precedence if I wanted him to have a good experience when he recovered.
I shouldered my satchel and sighed.“I guess we’ll have to pay a visit to your grandparents, then.”
Maddox furrowed his brow.“Pardon?”
“Just follow me.I’ll explain on the way.”
***
THE ROAD WAS DARK DESPITEMaddox’s lantern.Our journey was a slow one.The road was narrow, featuring a steep incline, twists and turns, and uneven stone steps, but as we traveled further up the village, the path grew more spacious.Bright cottage windows, some circular, some square, and some hexagonal, dotted the view before us.I could just make out the shadowy silhouettes of picket fences, straw privacy screens, and little herb gardens.
Maddox walked beside me, an uncharacteristic crease between his brows.His lantern wobbled, the light sputtering and swinging around us in dizzying effect.I didn’t have to wait long before he burst out, “What do I say to them?”
“Hello, Mr.and Mrs.Greenwood,” I intoned.“Can you explain why you’re not doing your job anymore?”
“I mean, do they even know I exist?”Maddox asked, raking a hand through his hair.“Are surprise grandchildren a good thing?”
“I’d say so.Grandchildren are always in high demand.”
Maddox fiddled with the buttons of his waistcoat.I’d told him that his father’s side of the family was most likely the weather witches we were going to see.I wasn’t entirely sure how well he was taking it.
I studied him for a moment before saying, “Why do you care if they like you?They’re practically strangers.”
“They’re not strangers.They’re my father’s parents.”
“They’re strangers who are related to you.Blood doesn’t miraculously make you acquainted with somebody.”
Maddox gave me a reproachful look, as if I had said something blasphemous.
