Leah glanced around her as she stepped inside, her ragged hem dragging on the floor. There were several inches of dampness at the bottom of her skirt.
Skye pointed at it. “Been outside?”
Leah glanced down. “Hm? Oh, aye, I have. I brought some herbs I thought might help ye. Mind if I make a tea?”
“Nae at all.”
Leah smiled, patting one of the leather pouches on her belt. She strode over to the water jug, clearly familiar with the room. She poured some of it into a small iron skillet that clanked at her hip, then set it over the fire.
While the water simmered, she reached into one of the pouches and took out a handful of crushed, dried leaves. When scattered into the skillet, they let off a crisp, savory scent, one that Skye could not quite place.
“Laird Bryden went mad after ye left,” Leah recounted. “I still remember the night he realized ye were gone. The entire keep was turned upside down, every inch searched. Even the old passages—every keep is full of them—were searched. He insisted on searching the councilmen’s rooms, too. Some of them complained, but the chief councilman, Andrew Kane, told them all to be quiet. He said that this was an emergency, and if anyone got in the Laird’s way, it would be considered treason.”
She shivered, dropping into a crouch before the fire. The flames lit up her face, casting dancing shadows across her features.
Skye sank into a chair, pulling her robe more tightly around herself. Her skin must not have dried properly before she put on the robe, and now she felt damp and clammy, the fabric clinging to her.
“I cannae imagine what it was like,” she whispered.
Leah shuddered. “He trusted no one. He was like a madman, tearing apart the keep, desperately trying to find ye. After a full night of searching, we realized that things were worse than they seemed. Ye had been taken out of the keep, and nobody kent where ye had gone.”
“I daenae ken where I went, either,” Skye confessed.
Leah nodded. Unhooking a wooden spoon from her belt—was there anything that she didnotcarry on that thing?—she began to stir the bubbling liquid. The dried herbs released a greenish color into the water, and the savory scent grew stronger.
“So,” she continued crisply, her voice too loud in the silence. “How do ye feel? Any injuries or soreness? Are ye dizzy? Is there any confusion besides what is to be expected?”
“I daenae think so. I woke with a bruise or two, and a graze on me cheek.”
“Bruises?” Leah perked up, frowning. “Where? How bad were they?”
“Nothing terrible. There were a couple on me calf, and one on me arm, above me elbow.”
“Fingertip-sized?”
“I… I think so. I didnae look too closely at them, and now I believe they’ve begun to fade.”
Leah pursed her lips. “Bruises like that would make me think somebody had grabbed ye. Pulled ye.”
“Maybe. I daenae remember. Is there a herb that could do that to me? Make me forget?”
Leah stirred the tea thoughtfully and nodded. “Aye. Several. We can rule some out straight away, mind. Lady’s Square, for one. I daenae ken the proper name for it, but here we call it that, on account of the plant growing in wee lacy-looking squares.
“It would keep ye knocked out for weeks or months if ye took enough, but ye would likely have wasted away. In any case, the herb leaves a yellow stain on a person’s tongue. Which I daenae believe ye have. Stick yer tongue out for me?”
Skye complied.
Leah sniffed. “Aye, it’s as I thought. Nae Lady’s Square. Dreamroot would do it, but that would only keep ye asleep for a couple of days. Then ye would wake but be groggy. If another dose was served to ye within another day, ye wouldnae remember that day, either.”
Skye shivered. “And this memory loss… is it permanent?”
Leah carefully lifted the skillet off the fire. Picking up a pair of goblets from the table, she poured out two measures of the tea into them, somehow managing not to spill a drop.
“Nay,” she said firmly. “The days ye were asleep, ye wouldnae remember, but ye wouldnae be solidly asleep. Ye’d be in a dreamlike state where ye were faintly aware of what was going on around ye. And the days ye woke, ye would remember those. But the herb is still in yer system. It takes days or even weeks to disappear, and until it’s long gone and yer mind goes back to normal, the memories will remain hidden.”
“So I should remember, eventually?”
“I think so.”
