Page 4 of A Balm of Healing
Grumbles escaped her mouth as she followed the road leading to town. She was angry. Not just at Mr. Dalena but at herself. What was she thinking grabbing him like that to try to exploit what likely might be his greatest insecurity? And all for what? A job?
A job she desperately needed…
She frowned as she stopped for a moment to glance inside her coin purse strapped to her belt. Only a few coins remained. Enough for a couple more meals, but it would hardly pay for a room to shelter her from the elements.
She’d never been so poor in her life. Mr. Dalena had been her last hope for a roof over her head. At least until she could get back on her feet.
But she had seen the immediate dismissal in his eyes, and she’d done what she had to do to survive.
Had it been a mistake?
“It’s because of my age, isn’t it?” She kicked a plume of snow with her boot but immediately regretted it when it whipped up and somehow found its way down her blouse. She gritted her teeth and continued her tromping through the snow. “To be clear,” she continued talking to herself, “I had no idea you lived alone, and I definitely didn’t realize you were young andhandsome!”
Another kick. This time, she gasped as she kicked ice rather than powder, wincing as pain flared up her foot.
She focused her magic downward until a pleasant coolness enveloped her foot. After a few moments, the pain subsided, and the throbbing ceased. When she placed weight on it and it didn’t hurt, she continued into town.
Children laughed and ran around the streets. Carts pulled by horses creaked by, giving her little choice but to hug the brick walls of the buildings as they passed. Humans and fae alike went about their day, even in the cold temperatures, recognizable by their ears alone—if they were visible. Humans had round ears. Sun Fae, like herself, had long ears flat against their heads. Several brown-haired Forest Fae sported ears with a bit of a droop, while Water Fae had rounded ears in their human forms and webbed ears in their merpeople forms.
She spotted one Shadow Fae haggling wares across the square, his short, pointed ears visible beneath the black curls shaping his head. His eyes appeared haggard as if he had no desire to be awake during daylight hours. Those types of fae were nocturnal, the most mysterious and albeit dangerous fae of all.
Anxious exhaustion weighed on her own shoulders, and she slumped onto a wooden barrel hidden in the corner of the square, head in her hands. In her current…situation…the only way she could get through winter was to find live-in positions in someone’s home, or trade healing work for a place to rest her head. Mr. Dalena had been the only one in Ebriel seeking such a person, but now she’d gone and squandered her opportunity.
“Now what?” she murmured to herself.
The farther she traveled from Heulwen, the more likely she was to find work, especially given her High Healer status. But she hadn’t enough for a wagon fare, and she couldn’t possibly travel to the next town by herself on foot in the middle of winter.
“It’s all right,” she told herself as she lifted her head from her hands. “This is just a minor setback. All I need to do is get through winter. Find an odd job here and there. Locate a place to rent.”
With renewed determination, she weaved through the growing crowds and started down the street leading toward the nearest inn. Two male and one female Sun Fae leaned against the railing, watching her as she ascended the steps. She winced at the racket her portmanteau made as it banged against the stairs, and once more as it hit the corner of the door frame on her way inside.
A hum of voices greeted her, along with the sweet scent of morning porridge. Her stomach protested against its emptiness, but she silently told it to hush. There was no sense in drawing more attention to herself than necessary.
“Pardon me,” she said as she approached the counter, waving down the woman pouring several bowls of porridge. “Do you have any empty rooms?”
The woman shook her head apologetically. “The winter solstice is a few days away. The Shadow folk have come crawling out of their caves—” A Shadow Fae sitting at one of the tables lifted his head and glared, and the innkeeper grimaced. “I mean to say that most of our rooms are occupied by Shadow Fae.”
Gweneth placed her palms face up on the counter between them. “I am a healer looking for work. I will trade services for a room and a few meals.”
The other woman clicked her tongue. “There is no need for your services here. Have you tried The Healer’s Cottage?”
She nodded. “There are no healing positions available.”
And then the woman pointed north. “A handicapped man just moved in about a month ago in Northcott’s old place. Rumor is he’s looking for a nurse.”
A groan escaped her mouth as she dropped her forehead on the counter with a resoundingthump. The wooden slab muffled her voice as she asked, “Is there anyone else looking for help? Anyone at all?” At this point, she would take any work even if it wasn’t in her usual profession.
Holding up a finger, the woman disappeared for a moment before returning with several advertisements and placing them on the counter in front of her. “I know this isn’t quite what you are looking for, but these positions have been available for a while.”
Gweneth sifted through the papers, her grimace growing with each surveyed job.
Rat catcher.
Beast hunter.
Chimney sweep.
Waste management.
