I even see the guilt festering within him, the same way it festered within me for so long.
I should have done more to help Mother, to stop her illness advancing.
I should have stopped Father’s drinking.
Yes, I know grief and guilt well. Two unwelcome bedfellows that shoehorn their way into your life without invitation.
Leaving him there, I slope out of the room.
‘Thanks,’ he murmurs softly just before I close the door.
I nod, and the latch has barely clicked when the sound of his sobs fills the corridor. The choked echoes of loss tear at my heart, stirring my own remembered grief anew.
Still, I do not go in to offer him comfort. He deliberately waited until I left before letting go, and so I will respect his choice.
On soft feet, I make my way downstairs, hesitating momentarily in the hallway before heading to the orangery. There is a suspicion that has been rippling through the back of my mind since I spoke to Dinah, and here is the place I hope to find the answer.
Damp air fills my lungs, the irrigation system watering the plants and creating an unprecedented humidity in Wrohelm. It’s warm enough here to strip off all my clothes and dance around naked if I wanted to.
But I don’t. I’m here for a reason, and frivolity has no place in it.
Just as when I was searching for plants to help Noleen, I cast my gaze around the space, focusing my thoughts on one singular idea.
Something to suppress Issen magic.
Around me, several plants begin to glow, each selected by my magic’s instincts. But as I walk the lines of the orangery, harvesting ingredients, my stomach churns more and more as I recognise plant after plant.
When I am done, I feel sick. The highlighted plants are – without exception – the ingredients for Mother’s so-called ‘health tonic’.
All this time, it was not our health that she was promoting, but our magic she was suppressing.
An idea flickers within me, and with it, the slightest glimmer of hope. I could brew it again. Take it as I had before.
Yet even as the thoughts form, Dinah’s pointed words echo.What surfaced in you was nevergiven, Rose. It wasuncovered. And once such things wake, they do not respond well to being pushed back down.
She was warning me of exactly this. Fuck these riddles! Couldn’t she just come out and say it?
I can’t take the ‘health’ potion. Not now that I’ve used the powers.
My annoyance has barely taken root when another thought pushes it out. One far more fearful.
I brewed Kay a vast supply of the tonic before I left for the Retterheld, wanting to keep her healthy in the slums in case Artur didn’t come for her, but did she take it with her once she knew she was heading to the High Hold? Has she continued to take it every day, the way our mother insisted? With every fibre in my body, I pray that Kay has maintained her habit. At least if her powers have not surfaced, she will be spared this new level of fear and torment that I now have to live with.
And what of William? Dinah did not say at what age our mother started manifesting these powers. Perhaps at fifteen years old, he is still young enough to keep them at bay? Maybe it will not be too late to stop them growing within him.
With the ingredients for the suppression potion laid in a wicker basket, I leave the orangery and stride towards the kitchen.
Smells of cooking eddy through the air, yet despite the aromas I’m still shocked when I walk in and see a ridiculously full spread laid out on the table. I will have to speak to Summer and encourage her to curb this excess. I cannot bear it when I know of the starvation others suffer beyond the rings.
I am also taken aback by the fact that the room is far from empty.
‘You came back.’ My voice hitches as my eyes fall immediately on William, though as a red tinge colours his cheeks, I realise how intently I’m staring.
‘It’s not a problem, is it?’ he asks, his tone worried.
‘No, of course not. No, I am pleased to see you. You’re always welcome here. Always,’ I repeat, only to sense that I’m now rambling as well as staring. As such, I turn my attention elsewhere.
Kay and Jonas are sitting next to each other at the kitchen table, knees touching a little under the table, like they are about to play footsie. It’s a trite act of a young couple in love, not one already bound in marriage despite barely knowing one another. And to think that only days ago Jonas actually expectedmeto say yes to his proposal.
