her one remaining hand in front of her face. At least some of her symbols remained, but they were barely distinguishable within her pale skin. Nothing like how they looked when her complexion was at its full dark purple splendor.
Dianthe scooted off the roots beside her and onto a stool. “I want you to know you are safe here. I can’t imagine what you’ve endured, but it seems clear to us that the empress was behind this. Did she torture you?”
Aborella paused, then nodded her head. It wasn’t a lie. Eleanor had buried her alive. If that didn’t count as torture, she wasn’t sure what did. As for the cause of her injuries, that was something Dianthe could never know, not unless Aborella wanted to meet the edge of Sylas’s blade.
“Well, you’re back in Everfield now, and this household is no friend to the crown. We will keep you here until you heal, and we can return you to your family. You do have family in Everfield?”
This was a harder one to answer. She might have distant relatives here but none who would take her in. Her immediate family had passed long ago. She shook her head no.
Dianthe sighed as if the thought made her sad. Aborella thanked the stars above that she could not speak. Coming up with a history that wouldn’t give her identity away would be difficult. Everyone in Everfield knew of Aborella, and everyone hated her.
“I would love to hear your story, but all that can wait. For now just work on getting better.” She stood and padded into the small kitchen area where she removed three trays of cookies from the stone oven.
The scent of cinnamon wafted through the cottage. Aborella’s mouth started to water. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Dianthe load a basket with the confections and cover it in a stitched linen towel. She slid the basket over her arm.
“I have to take these to the solarium for the convergence celebration. First night is tomorrow. If all goes well, maybe we can get you up and around the fire by the waning.”
Aborella remembered the annual ceremony when Ouros’s two moons aligned, both full. The celebration lasted for seven days, until the moons visibly parted and waned again. Dianthe must have made lunar cookies. Aborella was unexpectedly filled with nostalgia, and her eyes grew misty with memories. What was wrong with her? The people of Everfield had been cruel to her as a child. They’d hated her, and she’d hated it here. And if she were well enough to attend in seven days, she’d be well enough to return to the Obsidian Palace and regain the empress’s favor.
Dianthe donned her red cloak but paused by Aborella’s side on the way to the door. She selected one palm-sized cookie from her basket. “They’ll never miss it.”
Slowly, Aborella raised her hand and took the cookie, uncomfortable with the gratitude that consumed her. Dianthe didn’t expect a thank-you. She pulled up her hood and drifted out the front door, leaving Aborella alone with her cookie, her pain, and a strange brew of emotions she wished would go away.
Chapter Seven
Avery’s stomach lurched and her massive skirts swept over her head as she fell through the icy chill. Abruptly, her feet smacked earth, her knees gave out, and she rolled ass over noggin while flashes of mossy dirt broke through the blinding and bumpy tumble. She only stopped when her back slapped something hard and rough.
With both hands, she clawed at the fabric covering her face. She’d somersaulted into a rowan tree, its red berries bright against the lush green leaves. Rolling on her side, she scrambled to standing, smoothing her clothing and her hair. A mucky, wet thwuck met her ears as she lowered her left foot to the blanket of moss. Dammit! She’d lost a shoe in the tumble and water was now rising up around her ankle as if she’d stepped on a sponge.
Fuck! She hobbled for higher ground on her toes and shod foot, searching for her lost boot. That’s when she realized the leather bag with all her money and things had come off her waist in her scuffle with the hill. Everything was in that bag: the mole to camouflage her voice, the money for a room, a box of matches to start a fire, a canteen, and food to get her through the two-day trip. She was doomed without it.
“Shit! Shit! Shit!” She limped back the way she’d