He looked at her in surprise. “Who told you that?”
She shrugged and shook her head. It was something she’d once discussed with Tilly. It was also the kind of thing the Church might call blasphemy. She probably shouldn’t have brought it up, but he only looked thoughtful.
“At the Academy, we’re required to take a class on theory that covers the leading thoughts about how evil is able to come into our world. That’s one of them. The leading theory is that it has to do with fae blood. Among the fae, both men and women practiced magic, but if they mated with a human, the ability was lost by the third generation in male children.”
“You could use your witchstone to screen recruits.”
“We could. But there are other more practical matters to consider. The patrols are long and difficult. You see a lot of terrible things and have to rely heavily on the people around you. Be comfortable asking for help when you need it. Not manymen are okay being that vulnerable around women. And then the potential for sex complicates everything.”
“There’s the potential for sex on an all-male patrol too.”
A flicker of surprise crossed his face. The women he knew from town probably didn’t talk about that kind of thing either.
“Sometimes that also causes complications.”
She finished off her tea and set her mug down by her feet. “You could have all-female patrols.”
A smile pulled at his mouth. “I’ll suggest it to the king.”
“Good friends with the king, are you?”
“Close as kin,” he said with a note in his voice that said he was joking.
Imagine that. The witch hunter with a sense of humor.
His expression sobered when she shifted her seat again, trying to get comfortable. “I would go at a slower pace if we could. You should stretch your muscles out in the morning and tell me when you need a break. You don’t want any open wounds out here. Things get infected easily within the sphere of a witch’s corruption and they can be difficult to treat, especially when—” He broke off and shook his head. “I guess I don’t have to tell you any of this. You know more about infection than I do. You’re a good healer. You’ll do well at the Academy.”
He cast a smile her way. The heroic smile, so straight and white and charming. She noticed it even though she didn’t want to.
“I don’t want to go to the Academy.”
The smile faded. “What do you mean?”
She shrugged. “The Academy was always my mother’s dream. Not mine. She’s always seen healing as a calling, not just a way to make money. I don’t have her gift for it. I know how to stitch up a wound and tend a fever just like I know how to trap squirrels and chop wood, but there’s all the other things she does that come naturally to her, like holding the hands of thedying as they pass or comforting the mothers of stillborn babes or praying for a fever to break when you’ve done everything you know to do…” All of the grief and helplessness and weight of holding a life in your hands. She shook her head. “I’m not good at any of that. I wouldn’t want to do it for the rest of my life.”
The witch hunter regarded her with that strange look again, like he didn’t know what to make of her.
“Why let your mother train you if you have no interest in becoming a healer?”
She thought about not answering. She could snarl at him some more. But maybe he was right. They were stuck with each other for the time being. In the cursed woods with night pressing in around them. Maybe it was better that she try to get along. Just for now. Just a little.
“My mother’s health has never been the same since the branding. She takes care of everyone else. She needs someone to take care of her too. Who would I bring her to if she got sick? The healer in Sulen won’t even talk to her because of the brand.”
She still remembered those awful days after Jarn when her mother had taken a fever and she hadn’t known how to fix it. So she’d learned how to fix it. She never wanted to feel that helpless again.
Pity softened the witch hunter’s expression, and she had to look away before she punched him.
“Getting you into the Academy was part of the bargain we made,” he said. “You guide me through the woods. I help your mother find a new home. You go to the Academy.”
“I guide you to the fort and you pay me two hundred cord. Four if I find your men. That’s the deal I made.”
His frown deepened. “Four hundred cord is enough to buy a horse, not a future. Not even a very good horse.”
She was silent as she drank her tea, not bothering to argue with him. Four hundred cord would change her life even if it didn’t mean much to him.
“It will be enough.”
He thought that over while he stared at the fire. When he had it figured out, he said, “I know a priest who teaches at the Academy hospital. He might be able to find a place for your mother there. Trained or not, she’s a talented healer and she’s young enough to work if she wants to. If she still wishes to train at the Academy, I can make it happen.”
