That’s how these conversations always began. With a sigh, he took his journal out of his pocket and opened it to a fresh page. “You have set yourself up as a healer.”
“I have some skill at that, yes. People come to me for advice when they are sick.”
“Have you trained at the Academy?”
Academy-trained healers were rare in villages this small. Most made do with midwives and herbalists.
“No,” she said quietly. “I was never a student at the Academy, not officially, though I trained at the hospital there for a time in my youth.”
“You’re from the capital?”
“I lived there for several years. It’s where I met my husband.”
“Who did you apprentice with?”
She pressed her lips together. “I do not wish to say.”
He flicked a glance up to her blue eyes. They were clear, the whites healthy. Her skin was unblemished, lightly touched by the sun. If she was a witch, there was no sign of corruption in her that he could see. “Withholding such information can only hurt your case.”
“What will happen to the woman who taught me if I am found to be a witch?”
“I will visit her next,” he said. “And she will be investigated as well.”
She shook her head. “I will not pull another into my misfortune.”
“If you’re not a witch then you have nothing to worry about, do you?” He could understand her hesitation, but he needed the truth. “We clear your name and we move on.”
“What exactly is the accusation against me?”
He glanced down at the report from the mayor. “You prepared potions for Master Urich and Mistress Orla, which is illegal under the king’s law.”
“I prepared an herbal tincture to help Urich with his cough and Orla with a sore throat.”
“Without a license,” he pointed out. “You assisted at the birth of Mistress Betin’s third child who was born with a turned foot.”
“That can happen to Academy-trained healers as well. It is an unfortunate but natural occurrence.”
He moved to the next item on the list. “The cow outside is your fourth in the last year.”
“I can only afford older beasts.”
“Everyone who has attempted to take up residence in the neighboring home has taken ill. They report hearing strange sounds from the direction of your home. Animals scratching at the doors.”
A white and yellow cat leapt onto the table and sat down to watch him with green, unblinking eyes. The cat’s left ear was bent and notched at the tip. Casrian looked from the cat to Mistress Yahl. “They say you have a familiar.”
She shooed the cat from the table and drew in a harsh breath. She was becoming irritated with him, which was good. He much preferred her irritation to fear. “The house next door has a bad foundation. The walls hold moisture and that isn’t good for anyone’s health. I can’t explain the noises people hear other than to say that we are the last house in town, and there are wild animals in the woods.”
“You have fae blood.”
He opened his hand to show her the witchstone he’d slipped from his pocket when he knocked at the door. It was no surprise to see the mark glowing on its surface.
She frowned at the stone and then at him. “That stone tests bloodline, not intent. The law only outlaws the practice of witchcraft, not the existence of women with a drop of fae blood.”
That was true, but he was surprised she knew it.
He pocketed the stone. “It would have been easier if the Church had managed to eliminate the bloodlines so we weren’t left to deal with this ambiguity, but here we are.”
Her irritation tipped over into anger. “Easier? You’re talking about hundreds of people who died for nothing.”
