Page 87 of The Seeker

While I wanted to sit with Signa at first, worried her deteriorating body would crumble if I glanced away for even a moment, I knew Friar needed to return to Malheim, and she wouldn’t leave until I was settled in my new home.

We hadn’t really discussed me staying with Signa—it was assumed. But it wasn’t like I had anywhere else to go either.

While Friar busied herself with brushing a broom over the worn wooden floors, I meandered out to the garden to gauge the state of the various plants Signa had planted. I’d even borrowed a journal and quill from her desk, jotting down notes as I went. The fruit trees and vegetables had several fortnights until they were ready to harvest, likely the rest of the season. But there were many herbs that were ready to be picked, or at least trimmed down now, so I returned to the house to collect some jars to store them in.

When I walked in, Friar was kneeling on the floor, a wooden chest open in front of her as she packed away bundles of cloth.

“What’s that?” I asked, peering over her shoulder.

“Signa’s clothes. There’s room for yours in the wardrobe now.” Her voice was solemn.

My gaze flickered to the coven matron on the couch. “What if she needs them still?”

“She doesn’t.” Her voice was firm.

Still, that didn’t stop the frown that came over my features, but I didn’t say anything more as I crossed the room, pulling open the cabinets to search for jars.

“I’m going to leave in the morning.” Friar’s voice floated over my shoulder and I nodded in acknowledgment. While I was sad to see her go, there wasn’t really room for three in Signa’s small home long term. As it was, we’d already shared the double bed in the only bedroom the night before, taking turns check on the ailing matron throughout the night.

Back in the fields, with glass jars in my pocket, I picked several of the herbs, choosing the ripest leaves so by the time I needed more, the younger leaves would be matured. Though I wasn’t excited about caring for Signa until she eventually passed, I was right back in my element, picking various herbs and pressing them into jars.

And I loved being outside, just as me, not disguised as my brother or working as a spy for the military.

I loved feeling as if I was living life for myself.

Maybe I wouldn’t hate being the coven matron, even though the sound of the title alone made me cringe.

When I finished with the herbs, I scoured the border of the garden for poisons that I could take to keep Otho from seeing me, though I knew once Friar left my location would no longer be a secret, no matter what I consumed.

Which meant I’d have to confront Otho sooner or later.

I grimaced, pressing the back of my hand to my forehead, which was warm from the sun.

Heading back in the house, Friar had finished her packing and was once again standing in the kitchen, cutting various foods before adding them to a pot which hung over the fire. She handed me an onion once I’d set down the jars of herbs.

I picked up a knife and sliced. “When . . .” My gaze flickered to the unmoving form on the couch. “When she passes . . . what do I do? For the coven, I mean.”

Friar pressed her lips into a line. “I wish I had an answer for you but, while my mother spent much of my childhood attending coven meetings, I was found more often outside with my brothers.”

Great, I thought. There was nothing quite like being forced into a job you didn’t even know how to do. I set the knife down. “I really don’t think I’m the right choice for this.”

Friar’s hand covered mine. “I understand your feelings, but she . . . she said you are, so this is how it has to be.”

I didn’t like the sound of that, but I didn’t feel strong enough to argue with Friar either, so I allowed silence to fall between us as we continued preparing dinner.

Once everything was in the pot, I moved to Signa’s side again, picking up her frail hand in mine. “When she wakes up, I’ll ask her what is expected of me.”

“That’s a good idea,” Friar affirmed from her position over the fire, stirring the stew in the large pot.

Signa never woke again.

CHAPTER 29

The sounds of birds chirping drifted into my ears, and I opened my eyes, excited to head back into the garden for some harvesting, only for all my hopes to deflate the moment I took in the unnatural green parlor of the trees above me.

Ugh.

I was back in the dream space.