Page 7 of Fate's Sweetest Curse
I’d never seen anything like it; I’d neverheardof anything like it. It’d shaken me to the core, leaving me panicked and sweating.
Minutes after the horrifying sight, a visitor had arrived on the porch of the Pretty Possum with black blood dripping from her sword. Her arrivalwas eerily similar to how Anya and I had met Idris: a late-night intrusion, black saliva slicking his hand. He’d needed an apothecary, and I was the only person in town with any knowledge of purifying herbs. Our recent visitor, however, hadn’t needed tinctures or salves—she’d come to deliver a warning.
After she left, Idris had confirmed that monsters were infringing on the towns of rural Fenrir with more frequency. He’d made me promise not to tell anyone about what I’d seen (I’d felt vindicated to learn I wasn’t the only person with secrets). But still, the monster’s presence was troubling, and while Iwould be useless against such a creature, that didn’t stop me from worrying about Anya—andallof Waldron—in the meantime. I was glad Idris was around to look after everyone.
Anya only rolled her eyes, not one to be cowed—even by the implication of monsters. After all, she’d faced a few herself. “I’m plenty self-sufficient without you two.”
“Yes, but—” I began.
“You don’t have to be,” Idris finished for me.
Anya gestured between us. “Had I known you two would form an alliance to smother me…”
“You love it,” I said.
Idris chuckled and wrapped an arm around Anya’s shoulders, tucking her close. To me, he said, “You be safe, too.”
I gave him a nod. I’d packed a vial of Hylder tincture and one pot of salve—the same recipes I’d given Idris to stave off the infection of his nasty wound—just in case.
Anya snaked her arm around Idris’s waist, leaning into his embrace. “This is supposed to be ahappysendoff,” she told us, throwing a meaningful glance over her shoulder at the townsfolk forming a half-moon behind her. Raising her voice so the others could hear, she added, “We’re so excited for you.”
A chorus of “Hear! Hear!” filled the air, with folks calling out their hopes that the Fates would favor my travels, keep the roads safe and the weather mild.
Wicker plopped down at Anya’s feet, his feathery tail swishing jubilantly. She patted his head, beaming up at me. “By the way, I slipped a birthday gift into your trunk; don’t open it until the day!”
“You didn’t have to—”
“You’re not the only caretaker in this relationship,” Anya teased.
My twenty-ninth birthday was four weeks from now. It saddened me that I wouldn’t get to celebrate the milestone in the usual, over-the-top Waldron fashion, but it was just like Anya to do something special for me, anyhow.
Tears welled again. “I love you.”
“I love you, too, friend!”
A sharp whistle pierced the air. One of the horses let out a startled whinny.
Then we were moving, the axles of my wagon creaking as the horses picked up speed. I sat a little taller on my crate, waving at the friends and neighbors I was (temporarily) leaving behind.
“Farewell!” I yelled.
“For now!” the crowd answered—a customary goodbye in Waldron.
The horses’ hooves and wagon wheels kicked up a cloud of dust, obscuring my vision of the congregation. Then it cleared, and—
I saw him.
Noble, apart from the rest, leaning against the trunk of the oak tree that bordered the edge of downtown. His arms were crossed, his cheeks shaded with day-old stubble. The black waves of his hair were pushed away from his forehead, showing off his strong jawline and long neck. As always, his expression was painfully unreadable, but when his green eyes collided with mine, our gazes held for a fleeting, desperate moment.
A memory took shape, painful and panicked. Suddenly we were nine years younger: him, hiding behind the willow tree in the courtyard of my childhood home, and me, peering helplessly out the window of a midnight carriage as I was whisked away, never to return.
Except, this time, Iwouldreturn. I was older now, wiser, and I wouldn’t let what I’d built in Waldron slip so easily through my fingers.
The wagon lurched, breaking our tense stares. I gripped the railing, holding on as I lifted my gaze to Noble again—but he was no longer there.
“Safe travels!” Anya called.
Wicker howled, setting off other dogs in town, which in turn set off all the citizens again, hooting and cheering and wishing me well. I waved enthusiastically, grinning from ear to ear, even as my heart twisted. I was traveling to the capital to realize my lifelong dream of becoming an apothecary—an herbal alchemist—but that didn’t mean I wouldn’t miss Waldron sorely while I was gone.
