Blood Moon (Silver Moon, #3) - By Rebecca A. Rogers Page 0,25
yet to say a word.
With fresh, piping-hot food before us, we happily dig in. Going an entire day without food is not what I’m used to. Normally, Beth prepares both breakfast and dinner. I can skip lunch without a problem, but that’s only because I’m full from eating scrambled eggs and pan-fried bacon. Sadly, I miss her, just as I miss Randy, my parents, Jana, and Blake. My throat tightens, and I nearly choke on my supper thinking of the fond memories I shared with loved ones not so long ago.
“Do either of ye have plans tomorrow?” Fiona inquires, breaking my trance.
Glancing from Ben back to Fiona, I answer, “We do.” Unsure whether I should keep my mouth shut, or explain who we plan to visit, I decide on the latter. If Fiona knows anything about Lavenia, now’s the time to listen. “We’re going to visit the herb witch.”
Fiona, who had lifted her cup to drink, nearly spews her water across the table. Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she says, “Do not trust her. Many believe she practices the dark arts. ’Twould be a perfect location, I must admit. She is on the outskirts of town, away from the rest of us commoners, doing God-only-knows in that cottage of hers.”
Intent on the conversation at hand, I let my spoon rest against the inside of my bowl and prop both elbows on the table. “And why do people think she’s into witchcraft?”
“Her potions and brews miraculously heal all who are ill,” Fiona spits, her eyes wild with ferocity. “If ye ask me, she should be burned at the stake. Heresy to the crown is what she is. She has always been rebellious in nature, not giving a bloody care in the world. Now, she presents these people will concoctions which, astonishingly, restore their health.” Fiona slowly waggles her head from side to side. “’Tis the Devil’s work.” Her rant drawing to an end, Fiona gulps down several swigs of water. She notices Ben and I haven’t moved, or said a word, and she places her cup next to her bowl, adding, “Forgive me. ’Tis not my place to order ye around, but I wanted ye to know this if, by chance, harm should befall thyself.”
I reach out, my hand calmly resting on her forearm. “It’s okay. We’ll be fine. I promise.”
Squaring her shoulders, all her anger previously spent, she says, “Ye seem like a nice couple, and I would not fancy witnessing bad things happen to good people. My eyes have seen enough hatred and treachery come to pass in this lifetime. Do not let the same happen to ye.” With those words, she stands and gathers her bowl, as well as Francine’s, who has been quietly taking note of our conversation. “Come, dearest, ’tis time to retire for the night.”
As soon as Francine is tucked in her bed and Fiona waves to us from her bedroom before closing the door, Ben and I jump straight into a whispered conversation.
“Okay, so maybe Ulric was right,” I say. “Maybe this Lavenia is the one we need to keep our eyes on. If she has these so-called powers and is brewing potions, then I’m filing her under my suspicious-persons list.”
Forehead creasing, Ben stares at the wall, lost in thought. He revisits the discussion after some moments have lapsed. “We need to observe her before we confront her. We need to know who we’re up against.” He then rotates his head toward me. “This could get ugly. If what we’ve seen so far is indication of her using black magic, then she’s a very powerful witch. She may also be the key to the werewolf curse.”
I perk up. “You think so?”
Ben leans back in his chair. “Yeah, I mean, think about it. Everyone’s afraid of her, and she can create these potions that magically heal people. That’s not normal. Normal would be creating remedies from herbs like herb witches are supposed to, not conducting an extra business on the side.”
An idea impales my mind. “Ben . . .” I gasp, eyelids virtually becoming extinct. “What if that woman we met in the woods today is Lavenia?”
“Candra, she was picking berries, not herbs.”
“No, seriously, think about it. You saw what happened. She just dissolved before our eyes.”
He slants his body toward me and kisses my forehead. “We’ll figure this out tomorrow. But for now, we need to get some sleep.” He grabs his empty bowl and stands, strolling toward the basin