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Melie didn’t understand why Amicia needed her for this job. Harvesting plants was so simple even Lucas, all brains and no practicality, could do it. But here she was, making her way through the forest just behind the De Rune girl.
The village was so close to D’Ombrage that they had not even needed to stop to rest. Amicia was the one was who usually needed to pause, to catch her breath, to second-guess the purpose of a mission. Melie could travel light and quick for half a day before breaking, but she had much more practice; nearly a lifetime of it. That made it all the more puzzling why Amicia had insisted on Melie’s company—by the time they had crept from the cover of the trees Amicia’s steps were still fast, her eyes still bright, not all reliant on the other girl’s stamina.
“There,” said Amicia, pointing through the long grass. “Calendula. The soft gold ones.”
Melie spied the flowers growing in a row outside the hovel. Everything there growing in rows: cabbages, turnips, rhubarb and carrots, and loads of flowers. The orange calendula, and white chamomile, too, lavender and feverfew. She understood now why Amicia had brought her.
“Stealing from a witch,” she said. “Seems like the fastest way to get cursed I’ve ever heard of.”
Amicia grinned at her, loose strands of hair sticking to her perspiring face. “Only if you get caught. And I thought Melie the Fury never got caught.”
“I pick easier marks,” Melie replied before making her way to the little stone building. She was silent, her hands were gentle, she was bent more than double at the waist, and still the unmistakable shriek of a job going south. The plague could take this woman, Melie thought as she dodged a well-lobbed stone, but judging by her herb garden and her throwing strength, it probably wouldn’t.
“Anything for My Lady’s delight,” Melie said as she placed the take in the other girl’s satchel.
“Then you’ll carry this for me, too?” said Amicia, and swung the bag in her direction.
Amicia smiled as she planted two of the calendula in Hugo’s herbarium. One each male and female plants, with roots intact. She hadn’t even needed to ask.
Tears came to her throat as she made her way to the kitchen. That’s happened a lot over the last few weeks, crying one moment and laughing the next. One night she’s lost thinking about how everything was taken from her so suddenly and upended her idyllic life, and the next morning she’s donning a new fox fur capelet she’s made and watching Rodric shore up the battlements like never before, and she thinks maybe she’s still on top of things. Maybe her wheel of fortune just swings more wildly than others.
By evening the floral essence finished distilling. She had time to watch it drip slowly into the little decanter. The others were up learning to play chess with Lucas, strewn across the straw mats where they will eventually fall into a fitful sleep. Children who don’t know how much they miss their parents.
Amicia looked over her shoulder. “I’ve got something for you,” she said to the air behind her.
Melie crows with laughter as she stumbles forward from the shadows. “How did you even know I was here?”
The girl’s hair glowed in the firelight, her smile cracking like a shot through the darkened room. Melie had never really had parents to miss, had she? She lived by a thieves’ code more than any familial responsibility.
Melie’s smile tightened slightly. “What is it?”
“Hold out your hand.”
Melie hesitated for once, before putting out her hand palm up. Callouses and blisters and scratches mark the girl like a constellation of stars in skies strange to Amicia. She didn’t flinch when Amicia dabbed cream into her palm.
“From the calendula,” said Amicia.
“When we could have stolen rhubarb and feasted on pie tonight?” asked Melie, her eyebrow perched up like when she’s not really mad.
Amicia took Melie’s hand in both of hers and began to work in the cream, and as she did so she concentrated on pushing away her fear and exhaustion, and thought about Melie healing and softening, and that was worth the trouble. That was worth any trouble.