Page 28 of Wicked Thieves
As if he’d only just noticed her, the boy blinked at Anelize and pointed a finger at her. “Who is she?”
“Anelize. What’s your name?”
“Luca. Why are you here?”
Henry shook his head as he set him back down on his feet before giving him a gentle push, leading him downstairs. “How many times do I have to tell you to mind your manners, you little heathen.”
Luca laughed as he ran from the man, forgetting all about them as he rushed down to play with the other children.
Before Henry could trudge down the steps, Anelize asked, “Where’s Zara?”
Henry looked up at her with a smile. “In the parlor. If you want breakfast, come down to the kitchen. If anyone makes you angry again, come down anyway.”
She smiled as she watched him go, grateful for the generosity the Dobrins had always shown her and Enid. Zara and Henry had been her father’s lifelong friend before the warsstarted, when they used to reside within the forest in their village alongside the rest of the Vedrans. It was her father who had helped them carve out a place for themselves after the king’s attacks, and it was the Dobrins who brought injured Vedrans to him to provide aid where he could. They’d managed to make a life for themselves in the port district. They’d been a family by all accounts. Anelize knew that her father’s death had hurt them both greatly, his loss a shroud upon them all.
Taking her tea with her, she wandered into the parlor where she found Zara seated at a table with a bowl of porridge still steaming as she read what appeared to be several letters. When she heard Anelize approach, she smiled. “Morning. Did you sleep well?”
“Yes. Thank you for everything, Zara. If not for you and Henry?—”
Zara waved a dismissive hand. “Please, child, don’t thank us for such things. If it had been me or Henry taken away, I have no doubt you would have done the same for Wellyn.”
Zara’s faith in her made her shift uncomfortably and she expertly shifted the conversation. “What are you reading?”
“When the city is under more watchful eyes than usual, correspondence is the only way we can communicate with other Vedrans. A few residing on the east side of Elvir have gone into hiding for the time being as the king has given his men permission to raid the homes of any they suspect capable of treason. Everywhere I look, it seems we manage to escape one mess, only to land ourselves into another.” Zara sighed, placing the letters down. “I have a sense we’re being backed into a carefully laid trap. We all need to be careful.”
Anelize glanced down to an opened journal where shenoticed simple remedies had been scribbled down. Picking it up, she eyed what looked to be a recipe for a tonic.
“Oh, I almost forgot. I wanted to ask you, my little apothecary, what you thought a good remedy would be for pain and fatigue?”
“Is someone here unwell?” It was unexpected that a skilled healer like Zara would be resorting to remedies of all things. Whoever was sick, it had to be serious.
A solemn look crossed Zara’s face before she said, “Castian. When Aeric brought him to us, he was well on his way to death’s door. Incredibly weak and too thin. Aeric told me the prince had contracted some sort of illness, though we do not know exactly what it is. I believe I managed to heal him a bit, but with no clear indication on where I should focus, my skillset only goes as far as healing wounds. Not that which is purely internal.”
The prince is ill…
Could that be why rumors of his death had been circling about? If that was the case, why were the rebels being blamed for it? Clearly, there was more here than meets the eye.
Anelize hesitated. Tending to King Amaranth’s son—the heir to his wretched throne—was not something she was particularly keen on doing. If Henry and Zara trusted him, cared for him as they evidently did, then surely, he must not be as prejudiced against the Vedrans. Despite her reservations, her practice as an apothecary came to her as second nature and she could not shake away the duty as easily as she would have liked. Even if it did come down to helping the son of the man who had the blood of her people on his hands.
“I will ask him what his symptoms are and see what I can make.”
“I am sure he would appreciate it,” Zara then said, after she cleared her throat. “Aeric has tasked us with ensuring you learn to manage your gift. As such, I would like to teach you as much as I can before the Senin arrives. Can you tell me when the last time was you used it before a few days ago?”
The last time?—
The flash of charred skin and agonizing screams invaded her mind, making her run a hand over her face as she struggled to push the images away.
“I don’t…I don’t know.”
Zara watched her closely and nodded, her voice softer this time. “I see. Then, how about how you felt when you conjured it. When the Watchmen went after you.”
Though she hated to admit any sort of weakness to anyone, she answered Zara’s question. “I’m not sure what my thoughts were exactly, only that I was afraid and unsure of myself. I only remember having the urge to spill my blood to call upon it.”
“Fear will drive anyone to desperation, resorting to their more innate instincts of survival. When you used it, did you feel exhausted right away?”
Anelize nodded.
“Just as I suspected then,” Zara said. “And as for your curse? Was there anything you felt?”
