Page 52 of Crossroads Magic
Frida looked alarmed once more.
“It’s not that straight-forward,” Hirom said. “Leastwise, how she got this way isn’t.”
“That’s pretty normal for psychological issues.”
He rubbed his chin, while looking at Frida, who looked back at him as if the two were discussing something silently.
She nodded and looked at me.
“Bear got her, couple of decades ago. Just outside the Crossing,” Hirom said.
I drew in a breath, controlling my reaction.
“Ben healed her,” Hirom added. “All the outside wounds, anyway. Frida’s been here ever since.”
“You haven’t been outside the inn in twenty years?” I asked her, astonished.
She gave a little shrug and waved her hands around the kitchen. Then she hugged herself and smiled.
“You like it here,” I guessed.
Her smile grew wider. She nodded.
“Have you ever tried to step outside?” I asked.
Her smile faded. She nodded.
“What happened?”
Frida took a step forward, looked around, as if she had passed through a doorway into another room…or outside. Then her eyes rolled up and her knees collapsed.
I lunged forward to catch her, but Frida put out a foot and straightened up.
My heart was beating a little faster. “You passed out….” That was a genuine phobia, for sure.
Frida grimaced and nodded.
I sighed. “Okay. I’ll put food out for the animals. But I’m not taking food from that bag. Half of it is rotten. I don’t know what it would do to wild animals, but I don’t care to find out. I’ll start keeping scraps from now on. Okay?”
Frida beamed at me. She pressed her hands together, almost like she was praying. I got that one, too.Thank you.
I nodded. “You’re welcome.”
“Hey, you’re reading her, too,” Hirom said. “I gotta get back.” He straight-armed the kitchen door and left.
Frida pointed at the ceiling.
“Yes, you should go back,” I told her. “I’m about to get busy.”
I was beating pancake batter when the thought struck me. Benedict had “healed” Frida twenty years ago. How long, exactly, had he been living in Haigton Crossing?
?
I corralled HiromandFrida and made them come to the dining room to eat breakfast. Ghaliya was already there, setting the table. She’d found cloth placemats somewhere, which made the long table look a bit more welcoming.
We were serving ourselves when Trevalyan coughed delicately, standing in the archway.
“Ten bucks,” I told him, raising a brow. “I should charge double that, as you’re all filthy rich.”
