Four
The setting sun spilled over the quiet gardens flush with our home, and I reclined against the cool stonework at my back while stretching my legs out before me. Damp grass wet the fabric of my clothes, but I didn’t mind. After depositing my apothecary cases inside, I’d immediately come here, to my mother’s garden, to steady my nerves among the crocuses, daffodils, and rich maroon tulips. Bees lazily hummed from bud to bud, and I didn’t flinch as one investigated the embroidered flower on my breast to see if it was ripe with pollen. It moved on soon enough, and I let out a tired sigh.
Aunt Rowena was gone. That knowledge brought a hollowness to my chest I hadn’t anticipated, and I rubbed the space beneath my collarbone. In the very least, I’d done what she asked. I’d kept myself hidden. If I couldn’t see her again, at least I could live the life she wanted me to have. Even if it meant foraging for herbs until I was a crone.
We had enough food to make it until next week’s market, but that was it. I’d go back to the woods first thing in the morning toget a head start on replenishing my remedies. Maybe I’d unearth some morels I could use to barter with the butcher’s daughter. We’d enjoyed the pleasure of each other’s company a few times over, and I’d learned a thing or two about her tastes.
Still, I refused to make any sort of lasting connection. The townsfolk couldn’t be trusted with the truth of my identity.
Lost in my musings, I didn’t even register the town bell announcing the end of the miners’ shift. It wasn’t until I spotted Noam and Nohr sluggishly trudging toward our door that I realized the dusky sky was moments away from fading to night, and the droning hum of bees had long since been traded for the questioning chirps of crickets. Oil lampposts had been lit along the cobblestone path leading from town, and they cast long shadows behind my brothers. Body stiff, I rose to meet them.
“Any everjewels today?” I asked as we approached our home.
Nohr shook his head. “Maybe next time.”
“And maybe I’ll find a pile of lost coin while foraging for herbs.” I thrust open the door and moved into the foyer, watching as the boys kicked off their boots.
“There’s a dream.” Noam slipped off his gloves and shoved them into the back pocket of his trousers.
I sighed. “Well, at least tomorrow you have the day off.” My gaze roved across their grimy clothes and the thick layer of dirt caked onto their skin. Grief still clouded their eyes and tugged at their lips. They’d hardly had a chance to mourn their friend. “Go on, at least wipe some of that muck off. I’ll boil water for your baths.”
They nodded wordlessly as they lumbered up the stairs toward their shared bedroom, and while I was accustomed to their slumped frames after a hard day’s work, I knew the weight pressing onto their shoulders had nothing to do with mining for gems.
I lit the stove and found the same pots they’d used to warm water for me. After filling them and placing them on the heat, Ileaned against the kitchen counter and stared at the open window. With familiar ease, I retrieved my mother’s leather scrap from my pocket and rubbed it between my fingers. After Rowena was taken, we never spoke of the Ferngloves. It was as if Mother was too afraid to even mention them in case it summoned them to our doorstep yet again.
I’m safe. They don’t know.I squeezed my eyes shut as I pressed a light kiss to the leather. The flexible, textured surface was soft against my lips, and I breathed in the familiar, earthy scent before slipping it back into my pocket and opening my eyes.
As I went to check the water, my brothers’ screams ricocheted through our house. I whirled in place as Nohr came rushing down the stairs, Noam tumbling close behind. Noam was strangely off-balance, his gait wobbly, his body keeled over, his free hand dangling loosely by his knee. His head lolled from side to side, and when I finally caught sight of his faraway gaze, I froze.
They were both shirtless as they’d prepared to bathe, which made it easy to spy the patchwork pattern of filth against their skin. And the slender line of red just above Noam’s waistband.
A cut. Right where his shirt could’ve come untucked from his trousers during his work in the mines.
The curling edges of his wound were already shifting to a withering brown.
“No.” It was all I could manage as an incessant ringing filled my ears. Needles pricked against my skin as the world shifted beneath my feet. It was too much. It couldn’t be. A swarm of black consumed my peripheral vision, narrowing my focus to him. To that disastrous cut.
To the blight.
And then Nohr’s knees cracked against the floorboards as he fell, and I thought it was a reaction to the same realization I’d just had. Except on his biceps I saw a long, puckered slice of red blooming with mold and yellow spores.
I screamed so loudly, so violently, that my head splintered in pain. I didn’t even remember crossing our home. One moment I was in the kitchen and the next I was on the floor, cradling them in my lap as nonsensical babbling flowed like undammed water from their lips. Tears bisected my cheeks in heavy streams, and I pressed them closer. Sobs racked my chest, and I focused everything I had on the dormant power coursing through my veins.
Please. Take me. Let them live.My whole body was doused in moonlight, and the threads of their lives unraveled before my eyes. Frayed. Drenched in vile sludge. Petrifying into dust. An axe cleaved my heart, and I showered them with as much magic as I could muster.
Threads are fickle things. If you can’t coat them with your magic, you won’t be able to stitch them back together.
My aunt’s quiet words filled my mind. She’d whispered them so softly, almost fearfully, as she’d splayed her palms wide over my mother’s shuddering chest. Her wet, ragged rasps were a sound I’d never forget, but my aunt had chased them away. She had called on her power, doused her fingers in moonlight, and artfully moved them over my mother’s rib cage, restitching what was broken.
I clung to my aunt’s quiet lesson as panic climbed up my throat. With every inhale, I centered my power and willed it to bolster. To strengthen. And with every exhale, I focused on pushing more energy, more magic, to my brothers’ threads. I needed to chase the blight away so that I could grip them tight and bring the frayed ends together again. If I could clear even a small portion of the damning black sludge, then I had a chance. I could save them.
It didn’t work.
“Edira,” Noam managed, turning his teakwood gaze toward me. He had the same eyes as our father—both in hue and in the identical cloudy haze I’d witnessed before he’d died. My insidesknotted, and I wished I could do that to their threads. I needed to stitch them together, to tie them in such a way that they’d never come undone.
“S’okay,” Nohr added, his hand weak against my thigh.
“No, it’s not,” I sobbed. I could’ve worked harder to keep them out of the mines, toiling away for elusive everjewels that rarely surfaced. I could’vedonemore. Guilt rippled through me and fluttered like a current through the white light surrounding us. I didn’t want to be alone. No one else in town knew the truth about me. I could never be myself around anyone, not really. What was I supposed to do without them? I needed them to survive so my existence had some purpose beyond secrets and death. I needed their smiles, their jokes, their constant warmth. If they were going to go...
