Page 69 of The Demon's Discovery
I stared in awe as a tall, broad-shouldered woman with a long, dark braid hanging over her shoulder shaped a red-hot piece of metal into something resembling a blade with a hammer. When she stopped to dunk it into a vat of cool water, Lovette called out. “Hello in there! Can you take a break?”
Imogen looked up from her work and smiled, teeth bright against her soot-smudged face. She peeled off her heavy leather gloves, leaving them and the blade in progress on an anvil.
When she stepped out into the daylight, I inhaled in surprise. She was definitely Magnus’s daughter. I found most of his features in her beautiful face, but they were softer on her, morerounded. I wondered what their mother had looked like, and whether Lovette resembled her more than she did Magnus.
“Libelle?” Imogen held a hand out. “I’d love to hug you, but I’m a mess.”
“I think it’s Greta, actually,” Lovette corrected her, a smile on her mouth as she glanced between us.
“Either is fine,” I said, my hand still clutched in Imogen’s warm palm. “Though I’m much more used to Greta.” Her deep-brown eyes were kind, and her hair was a similar shade of brown as mine. “It’s so nice to meet you.” Imogen’s eyes dipped to the ring on my finger, my hand still loosely held in hers.
“Are you finishing up?” Lovette asked.
Imogen sighed. “For today, yes. There’re plenty of projects that need my attention, but they’ll keep.”
“Perfect, then you can bank the fire and go get cleaned up. We have lots of catching up to do, and you know the ladies will all be more than eager to start celebrating the moment they think an appropriate amount of time has passed.”
“All too well.” Imogen’s eyebrows drew together as she let go of my hand. “That’s an interesting ring. The metal is… unique.”
“Is it? I don’t actually know what it’s made of. It seemed cheap when I was first presented with it, though I don’t think so anymore. Maybe you could help me take it off?” I perked up, hopeful she had a tool in her shop that could remove it.
Her head tilted to the side. “Sorry?”
“It’s stuck. Nothing we’ve tried will get it to budge. It’s a long story, but my former employers matched me, and this is his token. I don’t want it, never did, but I can’t seem to rid myself of it either.”
“Hmm. Let me see.” Imogen went back inside the shadowy workshop. When she returned a few moments later, she had a wicked-looking tool in her hands. “Is it tight?”
“Yes. It’s almost like it’s fused with my skin.”
“Oh,” Lovette said. “In that case, before she gives it a go, may I?”
“Sure.”
Lovette peered close, poking around the edges of the green-and-gold leaves. “It’s not burned or infected that I can tell, but there’s no gap to be had at all.”
“We can try to cut it, but I don’t want to hurt you.” Imogen took my finger between hers, a sharp pair of nippers at the ready. She pinched the needlelike blades down on the edge of the band and squeezed. She grunted with the effort, her teeth clenched, but the blades didn’t so much as bend the edge of the ring.
“That’s the same problem we’ve been having,” I admitted, disappointed, but not surprised.
“It’s magicked,” Imogen muttered. “Until the spell is removed, you’re stuck with it I’m afraid.”
“That’s alright.” I dropped my hand to my side. “I think I may have found something that can help with that part. But I didn’t want to use it before we arrived.”
“Come on, I’ll show you the rest of town while my sister washes up.” Lovette took my arm again and walked us back toward the meetinghouse after Imogen promised to join us as soon as she could.
We made our way down the opposite lane that we’d walked up on our way to the cottage. All along the way, I admired the houses nestled in the trees, the rope ladders, bridges, and charming nature of the whole compact village.
I got a quick tour of the infirmary, which had more than a dozen beds evenly spaced throughout the main room, but no patients. Then we saw the meetinghouse, which was basically one giant dining room with a fireplace Magnus could comfortably stand inside at each end. There were three pairs of men moving the long wooden tables around and two pairs ofwomen moving in an efficient dance together as they swept and mopped the worn floors.
Lovette grabbed up a plate of snacks on our way through the kitchen. “That’s really all there is to it. Can you hold this, please?” She offered the plate to me.
“Oh. Sure.” I took it, and she snatched up a pitcher of ale and a stack of glasses as well.
There was more activity than there had been earlier, all centered around the main square. People were bringing over baskets of fruit and trays of sweets to go on several tables that looked like they’d been moved from inside the meetinghouse. Ribbons and lights were being strung up on poles, everything a very organized kind of chaos.
“Here we are,” Lovette announced as we walked up a set of stairs at the back of the infirmary. “This is my place.” She opened a door, and several women’s voices sounded off in excitement. I mostly could only see Lovette’s back as she pushed her way into the room, the several new voices challenging for space. “Back up, the lot of you! Didn’t I tell you to wait? That we’d meet downstairs in just a bit? Give the poor girl a moment to breathe!”
Lovette scolded and tutted like a professional as she waved the cluster of women back into the main part of the living room, turning around several times to give me a tight, reassuring smile.
