I feel my throat grow tight as I stand to face her. “Of course I will.”
Amelie pulls me into a hug with her slender arms. My head barely reaches her shoulder. “It won’t be the same without you.”
I blink back tears. “Nothing will be the same without you.”
She releases me but keeps her hands on my shoulders. “Have you told Mother?”
“Told me what?”
I whirl to find Mother standing in the doorway.
“Evie is leaving us for medical school on the mainland,” Amelie says with a pout, then floats away from me, past Mother, to my door. “Meanwhile, I have a man to steal. Good day.” With that, she disappears into the hall, leaving me to face Mother alone.
Chapter Three
“Is this true, Evelyn?” Mother asks, her voice soft. “You’re moving to the mainland?”
I feel my shoulders collapse and have to turn away to avoid her tear-glazed eyes. “It shouldn’t be a surprise.” My voice comes out more defensive than I intend, but I’m not sure what to say. I wasn’t ready for this conversation yet. Thanks, Amelie.
I grab a pile of clothes from my table and move behind my dressing screen. Again, I’m surprised to find my trousers so dirty and recall the night before. The wall. The offering. The fae male. I shake the memories from my mind and peel off the pants and nightdress and toss them to the floor. I don a fresh pair of wide-legged trousers, then retrieve my stiff corset from the floor. With a grimace, I wrap it around my waist. A moment later, I hear Mother’s footsteps approach from behind, followed by the gentle pull of the laces. She knows better than to lace it as tight as Amelie’s. Mother dislikes corsets almost as much as I do. However, she’s convinced it’s the burden we must bear for propriety’s sake. At least until they fall out of fashion.
With my corset done, Mother returns to the other side of the screen, and I put on a cream satin blouse with round pearl-like buttons, followed by a short-waisted coat in a deep gray. I still can’t meet Mother’s eyes when I step out from behind my dressing screen, but I can feel her scrutiny at my trousers. I’m likely the only woman in my village who prefers trousers to dresses, and Mother hasn’t decided her stance on them when it comes to propriety.
Not that propriety is Mother’s only concern. She has her own curious ways, like her trailing scarves, colorful hair ornaments, and mismatched shawls. She’s an odd mix of both me and Amelie, as if we were split from two sides of her personality, each taking an equal half. On one hand, Mother is whimsical, fair, and pretty like Amelie, with the same copper hair and green eyes. She knows how to fit into society and earn the acceptance of her peers. On the other hand, Mother has always been a bit of a secret rebel. She came to the Fair Isle from the mainland after she parted ways with my father. Yes, she willingly parted ways with a decent man, leaving the more traditional structure of the mainland for the less judgmental people of the isle. That’s how she explains it, anyway. I’ve never known the residents of Sableton to be anything other than petty gossips with empty heads and rigid ways.
But the people here respect her, lone mother of two, witch of Sableton. Of course, she prefers the term healer. I prefer the term charlatan.
“When did you even apply to university?”
Finally, I meet her eyes. “I sent my application in the summer and received the reply a few weeks ago. They’ve invited me to join the next class. Ma, this is huge for me.” I’m hoping the excitement in my tone will lift the corners of her mouth, but it doesn’t.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I knew you’d be upset. Besides, I didn’t want to say anything until we were safe from the Reaping.”
“After all the work I’ve done to make sure I won’t lose you, I’m going to lose you anyway.”
I take a step toward her. “You did all that work to keep us free. That means giving me the freedom to choose.”
Her eyes are pleading as she closes the distance between us and puts her hand on my cheek. “Couldn’t you be happy here? Continue your path as a surgeon’s apprentice for Mr. Meeks?”
With a groan, I skirt around her and head for my door. I hear Mother’s footsteps fall behind me as I enter the hall and descend the stairs. “I don’t want to be an apprentice forever. I want to be a full surgeon. Do you think Sableton has room for another one? No. Mr. Meeks will be surgeon here until he dies, and his son will be surgeon after him.”
“Well, that’s not a bad idea, Evelyn,” Mother says as I reach the platform at the bottom of the stairs. “You could take the Meeks’ example and do the same with me. You could learn my craft. You could help me run the apothecary.”
Irritation courses through me. She’s never stopped trying to convince me to learn her craft. I round on her. “Ma, we’ve had this discussion a million times. I don’t want to brew silly potions and make up stories from tea leaves. I don’t want to lay my hands on people until their made-up ailments dissolve from their imaginations.”
Mother’s face falls, and I know my words were too cutting. “Is that what you think I do all day? Fool around and take people’s money for nothing? How do you explain the things I know? The miracles people experience after working with me?”
I release a sigh and continue down the hall, past the parlor and the door that leads to the public shop that is Mother’s apothecary. “I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just…there’s a rational explanation for everything. I’m sure what you do helps people. Just not in the way I want to help people.”
“But you have so much potential. I can feel it in you.”
I enter the kitchen, where I take a seat at the thick wooden table, reaching for what remains of this morning’s loaf of bread. “Mr. Meeks says I have potential too. Real potential. He says I have a steady hand and the right disposition for surgery. When I graduate from university, I’ll have the skills I need to make a difference in the world. I can do more than just make people feel better. I can save lives.”
“Someday you’ll realize you have the power to save lives already inside you.”
A wave of anger sends heat to my cheeks. “You mean, like you?”
Tense silence grows between us, and a flash of guilt crosses Mother’s face. “You’ll never forgive me for what happened with your sister, will you? It kills me that your sister suffered for my mistake, but I promise you, I would have taken her to Mr. Meeks before things got too far.”
Again, I know my words were too harsh, but it’s the truth. Amelie nearly died four years ago, not because of some mistake, but because of Mother’s entire belief system. Mother may help people in her own way, but she doesn’t save lives. Pretending she can only hurts the people who actually need medical intervention.
I avert my gaze to avoid the hurt look on her face, instead taking in the jars of herbs lining the shelves spanning each wall, strands of drying plants hanging from the ceiling, tinctures and potions brewing on the countertops in glass jars. The sight makes my muscles tense. It’s chaotic and messy and none of it is me. I crave the order and neatness of a sterile surgery room, not the messy kitchen behind an apothecary. I let out a heavy sigh. “Ma, you know I forgive you. Amelie forgives you. But the fact remains that Sableton isn’t where I belong. Eisleigh isn’t where I belong.”