She hummed to herself. “It’s been a while. After we got you patched up, I stayed for a bit to help Lydia and Clesian put the rest of the estate together. Then Rorik and I both left for a time.”
“Rorik left, too? Why?” I shifted to face her. I had no reason to be surprised or curious, yet I was. The last time I’d seen Fernglove, it’d been nothing more than a pile of rubble. Rorik and Orin had upturned the earth with their battle. The manor had descended into a heaping mess of debris, and those who remained were still actively clearing the grounds when I was well enough to leave. I hadn’t asked Vora about the condition of the estate when she’d visited Rorik, and a part of me was excited to see what it had become.
“We both had things to attend to. People to... meet with.” Her smile tightened, and I got the distinct feeling she was biting back words. “If you want to know what he was doing, ask him yourself.”
“Does he know you’re here?” I asked, raising a brow.
“Of course not.” She snorted. “I caught wind he made it home last week, but I figured if he were sick, he’d hide it away, too. So, I came to you first to see if you caught a glimpse of anything. Now, I think that’s enough interrogation for the time being. Go get your things.”
Nodding, I made for the stairs. Vora and I packed quickly, just a small duffel bag each, and I grabbed one of my apothecary cases stocked with remedies. Within half an hour, we were walking through the door. Seville led the way, sauntering down the path toward the main road with Vora hot on her heels. I paused for a moment beneath the archway my father had carved and gently stroked one of the wooden flowers. The entire frame was a handcrafted masterpiece of roses in different stages of bloom, with vines weaving through them all and delicate leaves that draped around each bud. Last time, I’d been ushered away so quickly I hadn’t gotten the chance to savor my home. I’d been afraid of what lay ahead. But now...
I wasn’t sure I would miss this. That realization stilled me in place. I would always cherish the memories of our home. Of what I sacrificed to make it a haven for Noam and Nohr. I should feel guilty for willingly leaving it behind, but I didn’t. This place... It didn’t feel like home anymore. The walls had been slowly closing in on me for months now, with the surety of a casket. The life I’d once had was already dead and gone. I didn’t want to perish with it.
I wanted to live, no matter how much time I had left.
Ywena chittered to me softly. A series of images flooded my mind. The dense forest surrounding the estate full of pines and puckered roots and the rich moss that clung to the bark like stray splatters of paint over a dark canvas. The rolling mist that aimlessly drifted along the forest floor before dispersing into a massive clearing. Sprawling emerald-green lawns dotted with dew and sparkling in the early-morning light. A stately manor with countless windows punctuating the limestone facade. The large rooms full of books, paintings, and history. The family.
Ywena’s thoughts were filtered with a gauzy, warm sensation that softened everything. Love. She missed her home.
“I’m glad you’ll get to visit,” I said to her with a smile, and she snuggled in closer. “I hope it’s everything you want it to be.”
Even with the threat of blight, there was an eagerness in my step I couldn’t deny. I didn’t try to hide my smile, either, as I followed Seville and Vora toward Willowfell. We walked in silence; the only sound was the thud of our footfalls against the dirt-packed earth. When we hit the cobblestone and the heavy sound shifted to a sharp rap, my pulse hammered faster.
All around us, families were filing into their homes and igniting buttery-yellow lights to bathe dining rooms in a cozy glow. They were sitting down for meals, their laughter muffled through closed windows. I wondered if the Ferngloves were doing the same, wholly unaware that we were about to join them for a meal. I doubted there would be much of a welcome when we arrived, at least not from Rorik.
As we rounded the last bend, my gaze immediately found the space near Milton’s Apothecary where the strange woman—Ever—had manifested. Shadows flooded the alleyway beside it; the only shaft of light was a small, gauzy aura from the lamppost near the door. It was hazy, like a fog had rolled through, and then she was there. She watched me closely, wicked grin stretched impossibly wide, and then she wiped her fingers over her cheek. She’d smeared the glamour covering her face, revealing pockets of blight festering with yellow loam.
Then she was gone.
I jerked my focus to Vora and Seville, but neither of them noticed. If she had been an Ever, certainly Seville would’ve sensed her magic. This had to be a hallucination brought about by the resurgence of Seville’s blight. And yet...
“Seville,” I said, dragging my gaze back to the mouth of the alley, “earlier you asked if we’d seen anything out of the ordinary.”
She slowed her gait to fall into line beside me. “Yes.”
“I’m sure it’s nothing, but...” I chewed on my lower lip for a moment. “I may have seen an Ever at market yesterday. One I didn’t recognize. And just now...”
“What? Where? You didn’t mention that to me.” Alarm tinged Vora’s voice as she glanced around.
“That’s where she was standing both times,” I said, nodding toward the space where my mind had conjured her visage. “But I’m not even sure she’s real.”
“What does that mean?” Seville’s brows inched together.
“Well...” I hedged, mentally preparing myself for the lashing I was about to get from Vora for not sharing more details about my condition. “I’ve had a few hallucinations since getting back from Fernglove. I think it has something to do with my declining health. This one was different, but I can’t be sure. She was there and then just... gone.”
Vora’s expression was a strange fusion of concern and rage, as if she were about to vomit and scold at the same time.
Seville’s scowl deepened, and she pursed her lips as she scanned the quiet square. “I didn’t notice any magic. Did you?”
“No,” I said.
“Describe her in detail to me. Just to be safe,” Seville said. I recounted everything I could remember, right down to the woman’s hairstyle and eye color. Seville sighed. “Doesn’t ring any bells. And I don’t mean to be condescending—strange, I know—but I would have noticed if she were here now.”
“Yeah.” I glanced at the spot one last time. Nothing.
“Even so, all the more reason for you to come back to Fernglove for a bit. Give that mind something else to focus on.” She nodded toward the looming arch. Noam and Nohr lingered before it, their gazes identical depictions of concern.
Fear simmered in my gut. “But if she’s real? What about my brothers?”
