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“There’s beauty here, if you know how to look.”
She rolled her eyes. “Tell that to the giant monster that tried to eat me almost the second I touched the water.”
“Monster…?” He considered, then laughed aloud. “Let me guess: longer than a canoe, barrel-shaped body, scales, big teeth?”
“So you’ve met before.”
“It’s a swamp chomper,” Alem replied, brown eyes twinkling with merriment.
Verve scoffed. “You’re mocking me? Really? After I’ve selflessly fought my gag reflex just to help you?”
“I would never dream of mocking you, Verve,” he replied, chuckling. “Swamp chompers are very real. They’re like… big cows that live in the water. They eat river grass.”
She pursed her lips so she wouldn’t laugh. “Then why the pointy teeth?”
He shrugged. “The grass is tough? I’m not sure, but I know they’re harmless.” He chuckled again, glancing at her. “Scared you, huh?”
As close as they were, she could make out the stubble at his jaw, and she wondered if his lips were as soft as they looked. She shouldn’t have smiled, let alone said, “I screamed like a babe.”
“Sorry I missed that,” he replied, gaze fixed on her. “I’ve a feeling you don’t often get scared.”
I’m scared all the time. But the truth remained locked behind her teeth. Verve turned her attention back to the mixture, which had thickened somewhat, the water now a deep plum color. “Please say it’s ready. I’m about to open a window.”
He peered into the cauldron and nodded. Together, they removed the cauldron from the hook—carefully, with mild spillage and copious swearing—and set it upon a stone trivet.
“We’ll let that cool,” Alem said as he brought over a slotted spoon and a clean bucket, lined with cloth. “In the meantime, we’ll pull out the herbs to dry a bit, then wrap up the poultices.”
Verve wielded the spoon while Alem wrapped the soggy mixture in several layers of clean linen. Outside, thunder rolled and rain pounded, but within the cottage, Verve hardly noticed the storm. At one point, she got a little too warm and stepped away from the steaming mixture, gently daubing her temples with the scarf she kept wrapped around her braids. Her hair was long past due for a good wash, but the process of unbraiding, untangling, washing, drying, and redoing the braids took forever.
When she looked over at Alem, he looked away quickly, a flush creeping up his neck. “Beautiful,” he said. “Your scarf, I mean.”
Warmth bloomed in her cheeks. She was still too close to the steaming herb mixture. But that didn’t account for how her heart leaped in her chest. “My mother embroidered it,” she said.
“It looks like the ones Ivet wears. Is it Sufani?”
“Yes.”
When she said nothing more, he turned back to the poultices. “Your mother must have been very skilled.”
Must have been. Of course, it was easy to guess that someone like Verve didn’t have a loving mother waiting for her in some comfortable home. But, Alem hadn’t pressed her for information. Weirdly, this set her more at ease, which in turn made her wary all over again. By the One god, living in her head was exhausting.
A bright burst of lighting flared behind the curtains as the storm pounded at Alem’s back door. Verve’s pulse leaped in response, so she went to the cottage window and brushed aside one of Dannel’s weavings to squint through the downpour. More lightning flashed, illuminating the nearby trees. Hadiya’s barn was within sight; a streak of lightning danced upon a metal rod atop the structure. Verve recalled seeing another metal rod on top of the Willow.
“What in Ea’s realm is going on?” Verve asked. “Why’s there so much lightning?” Her breath caught. Oh, stars and moons, was Damaris actually real? Everyone acted so cagey when the “powerful mage” was mentioned; Verve had started to wonder if this mage was just some tale the locals had cooked up.
Alem came to stand beside her, wiping his hands on his trousers. “It’s not magic, if that’s what you’re wondering.”
“But the lightning is related to Marea Damaris?” No use trying to play coy any longer. Verve needed a proper answer.
“How much coin will you get for bringing them in?” Alem asked suddenly. “It must be a lot, otherwise you wouldn’t have stuck around.” She opened her mouth to argue, but he shook his head. “I know why you’re really here, Verve. Ivet knows, too.”
Was this another battle not worth fighting, or one she’d already lost? It was getting harder and harder to tell the difference. “There is good coin in bringing in a mage like Damaris,” Verve finally admitted. “But the proper authorities have reasons to want a mage like that in their custody.”
Alem snorted. “‘The proper authorities.’ What does that mean? Who has the right to say if someone else should live or die?” His voice dropped to a murmur. “What has Damaris done other than protect us?”
Verve tried to ignore the bitter edge to his words. “The world is terrifying right now,” she said quietly. “People are scared. And magic is strange, which makes it dangerous, which only strengthens the fear that most folks live with every day.”
He hugged himself and looked at the floor. “Magic doesn’t have to be dangerous.”
