“Say nothing of your suspicions ever again. Do you understand? To do so will mean your death.”
“But—”
My father, who doted on Mother, Kellen, and me, and never spoke a harsh word, shook me firmly. I stared up at him in shock until I noted fear in his eyes. Fear for me. Fear for what even a whispered word of something so forbidden could do.
“Yes, Father,” I said softly.
He released me with an unsteady exhale.
“Very good. Will you walk with me to the house?”
We traversed the path in silence, and when we rounded the house, I saw a horse saddled and waiting. Kellen stood on the front step, her expression closed off to what she was feeling.
“You’re leaving already?” I asked, noting Father’s red merchant jacket waiting atop the saddle.
“As I said I would.”
“But, I thought once I told you—”
He gave me a sharp look.
“You are smart and resourceful girls. Keep your wits. Take care of one another. Mind the rules. You’ll both be fine.”
He agilely swung himself up onto the horse’s back and removed something resting at the front of his saddle.
He handed me the bare branch he’d given me as a gift the day before.
“Don’t forget to plant this. Farewell, my daughters.”
Without any words of comfort, he prodded the horse forward.
Kellen turned on her heel and went into the house. I couldn’t go inside. My mind was too full of grief, anger, and excessive questions to which I had no answers.
Instead, I ran back to my mother’s grave and fell to my knees. I wished I could bury my feelings like Kellen. To suppress the hurt. But I couldn’t. It boiled out of me in a torrent of tears.
I didn't understand Father's refusal to stay. Did he truly grieve so deeply that he couldn't see how desperately Kellen and I needed him?
If it was truly magic that had killed Mother what were Kellen and I to do? No. What was I to do? For the first time in my life, I felt completely alone.
It took some time for the tears to slow. When they did, the sun was peeking over the trees, and the soft chitter of animals had come alive around me. Wiping my face dry, I looked at my mother's grave. Time would flatten the mound of dirt. Plants would grow and disguise that a grave had ever existed. Only the marker would stand tall. But for how long? Maybe twenty years before it needed to be replaced? I dug a hole in the soft soil over her casket and planted the pear shoot.
Sitting back on my heels, I looked at the tiny thing.
“It's not much now,” I said softly. “But someday, in spring, dainty white petals will rain down on your head. Their fragrance will perfume the air, and songbirds will sit in the branches. Their sweet melody will keep you company even if I'm not here.”
My words caught, and I started to cry again.
A rustle and grunt from the nearby trees sent me to my feet, ready to bolt. Wild boar were wickedly dangerous.
“You stupid beast, walk faster or I’ll see you on a plate.”
An old woman with bits of twigs sticking out of her tangled nest of white hair tumbled out of the thicket. The worn and patched brown cloak that hung from her shoulders had seen better days. So had her dress. In her fist, she held one end of a rope on which she tugged mightily. An enormous pig reluctantly waddled into the clearing behind her.
I’d never seen such a well-fed beast. He was easily twice the size of the woman, and he didn't waddle with disdain but with strain. I didn't see how his small legs could support his body.
By appearances, they must have come from an outlying farm.
When the woman noticed me, she stopped tugging on the pig and gave me a pleasant smile.
“Good morning,” she said. “I thought I heard someone out here. Could you be so kind as to tell me where ‘here’ is?”
Her lightly accented words told me she was from much further north.
“You are near Towdown. It's just over the next rise.” I pointed to the south.
“Towdown,” the woman said with distaste. “Not a place I wanted to visit. I’ve heard that magic has been banned here. Is that true?”
“Yes,” I said nervously. As Father had recently reminded me, no one should speak openly of magic.
“Where were you hoping to be?” I asked, changing the subject.
“Adele preferably.”
“Adele? I've never heard of that town.”
The old woman considered me for a moment.
“Town? Never heard of it? Strange child. Everyone has heard of the city of Adele and its white towers. It’s the best market for fine silks and fresh citrus.”
I shrugged apologetically.
“I'm sorry. I don't often venture from my home, and when I do, it’s only to visit Towdown’s market.”
She waved away my apology.
“It’s no matter. I know where I am now and that I need to head west.”
“Head west? You don't want to do that. There's nothing to the west but the Dark Forest.” My gaze flicked to the pig. “You’ll never make it through that cursed place with such a tasty treat for the beasts.”
She gave the pig a satisfied smile.
“Do you hear that, pig? We can go through the Dark Forest, and I can watch you be eaten. Seems a fitting end for you.”
The pig made a squealing sound almost as if he understood her.
Her smile faded as she cocked her head and studied me for a long quiet moment.
“I’m not sure what to think of you.”
“Think of me?” I asked, careful to keep any hint of judgement from my tone.
I looked down at my skirt and saw where the material was stained with dirt from kneeling. I brushed as much as I could away before looking up again. Her gaze flicked to the mounded dirt at my feet.
“Who was that?” she asked.
“My mother.”
“Was she a good woman?”
The blunt question surprised me.
“She was a very good woman,” I said. “Her name was Margaret Cartwright.”
“You sure you want to plant that tree there?” she asked.
“Yes. The marker will weather and rot long before a pear tree will.”
She made a non-committal noise.
“What is your name?” she asked.
“Eloise.”
“Do you practice magic?”
This woman was dangerous in her ignorance.
“No,” I said emphatically. “I think it best that I go now.”
“I must beg a favor, Eloise,” she said, stopping me from leaving. “I'm old and tired, and this pig moves slower than me. I have places I must be and have no time to wait for him. If I leave him in your care, will you eat him?”
I looked at the pig, who stared back at me. I wasn’t opposed to caring for animals, but I wasn’t so sure about this one. Something in his eyes seemed to plead with me, an almost human quality that made me want to shiver and politely refuse her. However, I couldn’t. I’d witnessed her struggle with the beast.
“No, ma'am. I will not eat him.”
The woman started forward, tugging the pig along.
“Then I will leave him in your care for a while. I have nothing to offer you for his keep, though.”
“There is no need. I like animals and won’t mind caring for another one. It will be a welcome distraction.”