Page 5 of Beast and Remedy
I pride myself every time I lay eyes on it. All gathered and collected by Marian and me, all from the vast number of books I’ve read.
Drawing from a memorized recipe, I reach for a few herbs, adding and combining the contents in a small bowl.
Marian shuffles behind me, but I pay her no attention, working best in the silence.
I grind the ingredients, ticking through each mental note for what is needed, and what to try for the next tonic, the next tea, the nextsomethingfor reducing my own pain.
I pull a sample of ale from the section of labeled liquids above me and blend it in with a precious amount of honey, an ingredient I discovered on our last trip to Palaena. It’s extremely useful and hard to come by.
A little goes a long way, I remind myself as I take a small dollop of the nectar and mix it in.
Once I find the medicine mixed to my liking and the paste is sticky and spreadable, I turn, smiling at Marian.
She holds a fresh set of bandages for the wolf, and my heart sings at the bond and rhythm we have always shared.
“Salve now and then a dose of a pain tonic before and during our name day party to be on the safe side,” I say.
“You’ll do anything to avoid being there longer than needed,” she quips as we kneel, and she opens the cage.
The animal looks between us, wheezing.
I halt, remembering another plant for the wolf’s breathing, and hurry to the vials. Taking the datura, I add a small pinch into the mixture, careful to have a speckle of it before wiping the spoon of medicine across my palm.
My sister’s nose wrinkles with skepticism, and I shrug.
Lowering to the cage’s opening, I extend my hand, summoning a flicker of magic in case the animal needs more coaxing.
The creature twitches, sniffing before licking the honeyed medicine, leaving a stickiness along my skin. The wolf’s tongue darts out, cleaning its snout and blinking.
I huff a laugh. “See? How can I enjoy a party when I have this cute critter begging for company?”
“It is cute.” Marian carefully helps undo the bandaging from the injured leg. “But the party willalsohave cute things,” she teases with a mischievous wink.
We snicker as I apply the salve, shrinking inside.
I know she implies a good time, but I can’t stop the twinge of the yearning—the longing—thepainsettling deep in my gut from the only cute person I can think of.
And how they are far away in another kingdom, forbidden from ever seeing me.
Autumn, The Makers Year 1008
To the Prince of Torgem,
Hello.
Please forgive me as I’m still learning my letters. Mama and Papa told me to practice and write my sister and friends.
Marian is good in her writing and it makes me mad.
But I thought since meeting you and your family, I could write to you as well.
When will you visit me again? You promised to play with me and tell me some stories.
From,
The Princess of Belmur,
Vivienne
