in silence, though a more companionable one, both of us listening to the sounds of the night, and eventually he drifts off to sleep, his breathing slowing, deepening. I follow his lead, and eventually I sleep, dreamlessly, for the first time in moons.
When I wake the sun is already up, the light milky and pale as it streams through the slats in the window. “Oh Gods, Mama,” I say, scrambling to my feet. “I slept too long.”
Silas sits up, alert immediately. “Go. Give me an hour to get a message off to the Conclave and then I’ll come and bury Ely. In the meantime you should pack. We’ll leave as soon as everything is ready. We’ll have to walk, unless I can steal some horses. Can your mother manage it?”
“No. Not walking.” I peek between the slats to check the coast is clear. “She’s too weak. If you can get a horse or something for her. I can walk. But she won’t make it.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
I smile back at him. “An hour, then?”
He nods.
There is a bite in the air, the promise of winter on it as I creep home, still feeling hopeful. I try to imagine what the Conclave might be like, where it might be. Somewhere hidden, perhaps in the north. After talking about Scarron I hope the Conclave is by the sea. I let my memory fill with the scent of seaweed and brine that I know from the northern town. I could be happy by the sea, if I could find a way to complete my apprenticeship. I could act as apothecary to them, maybe even teach them some things, to thank them for their aid. I could help them, if they’d let me.
My hopeful state is tainted a little as I approach my cottage, the woods behind it looking less friendly to me now, even in the daylight. I remember the golem, the thud of its footsteps behind me, the way it reached for me. I quicken my pace towards the cottage, anxious to be inside.
But as I reach for the latch, the door opens and Kirin is there in his uniform, his mouth a grim line of bad tidings.
“Errin, thank the Gods—” He tries to speak but I shove past him, bursting into the cottage, stopping dead when I see the captain in his red sash and Chanse Unwin standing over Ely, now uncovered and unmistakably dead. The table is still strewn with my apothecary work, my diary, open on the page that details all of the potions I’ve made. All of the poisons I’ve made. The box that contains my remedies is revealed, the labels on show: nightshade, hemlock, wolfsbane, oleander. The vial of Elixir is in the middle of the table.
I look at them, at the questions on the captain’s face, at the smirk on Unwin’s. Then I look at the door of my mother’s room. Open.
“Errin,” Kirin calls again as I run to her room.
“She’s gone,” Unwin says behind me.
I whirl around.
“I evacuated her to a facility in Tressalyn.” He pauses and grins. “A specialist one. For madwomen.”
“No.” I lunge at him but Kirin appears from nowhere, catching me around the waist and saving Unwin from my attack. “Where is she?” I scream from behind Kirin.
“Madness seems to run in the family,” Unwin sneers.
Kirin bundles me into the room and closes the door. Through it I hear him speak to Unwin.
“Leave.” His voice sounds cold.
“This is my house,” Unwin snarls, but whatever Kirin does stops him from saying anything else.
“The village has been requisitioned by the army,” another voice, presumably the captain, says calmly. “You’re here at our grace now. And it might be best if you leave.”
“No chance,” Unwin replies. “I want to know how long she’s been keeping a madwoman locked up. Look at this. A body on the floor, poison on the table. She’s a criminal and I’m the Justice here. You hand her over to my custody.”
“That will be all, Unwin,” the captain says, and I hear the sounds of a scuffle. When the front door closes, I step back from the bedroom door and wait.
Kirin opens it. I walk out, slowly, expecting to face the captain, but he’s gone, and I turn to Kirin. His face is pale, sweat on his brow, and he’s leaning to the right. I’d forgotten about his wound. He must have wrenched it when he stopped me from getting to Unwin.