Page 10 of Riftborne
“It still looks like it was hit by a tornado, but other than that, yes. Why? Shouldn’t it be?” She raised an eyebrow at me.
I tried to shake off the last lingering threads of sleep. The bright rays of sun flowing in from the window told me it was early afternoon. I never missed work. No wonder she was so concerned.
Ma wasn’t a Riftborne. She was born and raised in Sídhe but came from a modest household. She didn’t speak about them much. I’d assumed they’d had a falling out. Now, we were essentially each other’s chosen family.
In the beginning, I was hesitant about her, as was the case with most strangers, but I had to find work, and that’s a hard task when you’re viewed as a child of the Rebellion. Even harder when your appearance tends to unnerve the ever-loving shit out of people.
But from the time I first stepped into the Apothecary, Ma treated me with warmth and kindness. She saw beyond the mark on my hand, beyond the label that defined me for so many. In her eyes, I was simply Fia.
I swallowed hard, trying to release the lump that had formed in my throat. The thought of disappointing her was stifling. If she found out about what I had done…
A wince shot through me. That was one of my greatest fears.
In an attempt to keep my expression nonchalant, I shrugged. “No, of course not. I was just making sure… If you’ll give me five minutes, I can be ready to head back to the shop with you.”
Ma studied me but said nothing, eventually diverting her gaze and dismissing me with a hand gesture.
“And what’s wrong with this one? Too much wine from the Highlands?” she teased Osta as I reached the hallway. A sleepy groan echoed through the space, followed by a few grunts of laughter.
I dressed quickly, my thoughts still swirling with questions. Surely, if the girls had been killed…I would be sitting in a Sídhe prison cell by now. And yet, the memory was so vivid… so real… their eyes lighting up from within. I shuddered and tried to push away the thought.
Maybe Osta was right. Maybe it was some kind of hallucination triggered by stress and a lack of sleep. The idea didn’t exactly sink into my bones, but it was the one I decided to grasp onto.
I glanced towards my trousers from last night and grabbed my apothecary belt. The lily of the valley. I’d completely forgotten about it.
Unfastening the sachet, I found them crushed beyond repair.
As I steppedout onto the streets of Luminaria’s Central district, the clamor of the city hit me like a wall of chaos.
My legs were still wobbly and the feeling of eyes on me pricked my skin.
The summer wind grazed me like the touch of an unassuming foe. The city was always busiest during the warmer months, teeming with visitors from across the Isle, drawn here by festivals and solstice celebrations.
Unsurprisingly, this was my least favorite time of year. The city was already packed enough on a normal day. The extra influx of bodies only provided more opportunities to end up in the wrong company. I prayed to Niamh that wouldn't happen today.
I didn’t hate Luminaria. In fact, there were many things I’d grown to love about the city. It was the dark underbelly that stirred my fears. The discrimination against Riftborne was a secret that everyone knew but no one talked about.
I lowered my head, and we began navigating the mayhem, making our way to the shop. The Apothecary was only a fifteen-minute walk, but I picked up the pace. Every second out here made me feel exposed and scrutinized.
Suddenly, a beam of light flashed across my eyes, the reflection of sunlight on silver metal, and my heart skipped a beat. I expected to see a guardsman trudging towards me but only found a blacksmith polishing a blade on the street corner, his shop billowing smoke behind him. I let out a slow, hollow breath as he looked up at me. Tearing my eyes away from him, I hurried to catch up with Ma.
Guilt churned in my gut. If only these people knew I might just truly be the monster they worried so much about. I wrapped my arms around my middle, attempting to quell the ache.
We tried our best to dodge the street vendors aggressively selling their wares. Ma mumbled curses under her breath. Her aversion to people was one of her more endearing qualities.
Canals connected the furthest reaches of the city, allowing for quick travel and exchange of goods. Boats of all shapes and sizes floated down the busy waterways. A few fishermen were gathered along the edges of the water, slowly reeling in their lines and nets as they talked amongst themselves.
Nature sprawled across the urban landscape–vines embracing marbled towers, flowers adorning the streets while trees and their roots waged war on the cobblestone path. A few women wearing floral sundresses were collecting herbs from a community garden off to the right, smiling like they hadn’t a single care in the world.
I breathed deep, trying to keep my darker thoughts at bay. The aroma of fresh basil filled my nose, and I savored the subtle respite.
Soon enough, we were approaching the front doors of the Apothecary. Anxiety pricked my skin as my eyes scanned the perimeter. Nothing seemed out of place. There were no signs of the Sídhe Guard.
The door creaked open, and the familiar scent washed over me–a mix of curious herbs, steeping infusions, and a hint ofnostalgia thrown in for good measure. Although today, it twisted my stomach. The thought of losing this made me want to crawl into a ball and disappear.
The countless rows of shelves, groaning under the weight of glass jars, housed a concoction of plant particles from across the realm that would make even the most established botanist gleam with envy.
Crystals, some glittering with the threads of enchantments, rested in every nook and cranny. Barrels in the corners, marked with runes, some of which were so ancient that even Ma had difficulty understanding them, stored ingredients that were too rare to use daily. A great deal of her collection was inherited, passed down from the previous owner. This shop had been around for centuries. The creaking floor beneath me was practically a relic, a witness to countless patrons who had come in with maladies both ordinary and unfathomable.
