Page 83 of Here in Your Arms
“I’m...Maella.” She fiddled with a sprig of nettle, avoiding eye contact.
Rose nodded. “Nice to meet you, Maella.” Her gaze drifted to the ground. “What are you trying to pull up?”
“Oh, just... weeds.” Maella smiled, far too quickly again.
“Weeds that fight back?” Rose asked lightly, pointing to the plant still half-stuck in the dirt. “You looked like you were wrestling it.”
Maella glanced down at the stubborn root. “Nettle. But not just any—er, it’s the kind that holds...um...strong energy. Good for salves, poultices. And... grounding. Sometimes.”
Rose tilted her head. “Grounding?”
Maella’s eyes flicked up, then away again. “For... people who are a bit unsteady. It helps keep their feet where they’re supposed to be.” She said it with a twitch of a smile, but her voice faltered at the end, like she realized too late that she’d said something odd.
Rose’s brow knit slightly. “Meaning...what?”
Maella blanched. “What?”
“What do you mean?” Rose repeated. “You said it had strong energy and that...it kept people’s feet where they were supposed to be.”
“Ha!” Maella barked a laugh, waving a dismissive hand. “Tis naught but lore. My...er, gran always said that. Old habits, I guess.” She bent quickly, fumbling for another weed. “Plants make us feel safe, don’t they?”
“I... guess so,” Rose said, watching her closely now.
“It’s pretty here, is it nae?” Maella asked without glancing around.
Rose had the impression that the young woman was trying to distract her, change the subject.
Maella began to talk quickly, mindless stuff, cementing Rose’s impression that the girl was nervous for some reason, or that... she was hiding something.
“Plants are full of all sorts of little secrets,” she said. “Naeactualsecrets, nae like whispering secrets, obviously. Just, ye ken, natural properties. Proper ones.”
Rose narrowed her eyes. “Sure...”
“Ye’re lucky the rain dinna come today,” she chattered on. “The light’s good, nae too bright but nae dim either. Perfect for foraging. Nettles, thistle, bits of chickweed if ye ken where to look. Nae that I do, really, I mean, I try, but it’s hard when the soil’s so black and hard, ye ken? And some days it’s like the plants just dinna want to be found, like they’re hiding.” She laughed, much too loudly, then added, “Nae that plants canhide. Obviously.”
Rose didn’t answer. She just kept watching her, nearly entertained by the flight of ideas in the girl’s head, except that it all felt so...contrived.
Maella shifted again, nearly toppling sideways as she tugged on another stem. “Ye seem a verra calm sort. Exceptionally calm, for a stranger in a strange land. That’s a compliment, by the way.”
Now Rose was sure of it. Something wasn’t right.
Maella shrugged. “It’s so different here—there’s so much mud. And all these layers of clothing. Just yesterday, I was sunbathing near the sea watching planes go by.”
Rose froze, her heart thudding. “What did you just say?”
Maella blinked. “What?”
“You said something about a...plane.”
“I did?” Maella laughed, the sound high and hollow. “Aye, I said... plains... the grasslands, ye ken. Near the sea. Very breezy. Lots of... sheep.”
Rose stared, expression flattening. “You said you were watching planes go by.”
“Nae,” Maella dragged the word out, smiling too wide. “Nae, I’m sure I dinna. Or mayhap I did. Sometimes I say things weird. My accent’s very muddled. My mum was from... the east.”
“The east?” Rose repeated.
“Aye, easterly. Er, East... Kilbride.” Maella dropped the nettle and gave a little cough. “Och, but look at this root—it’s such a stubborn little beast, is it nae?”
