Page 7 of Veil of Web and Ruin
But I don’t want to get her hopes up. Hope’s almost as big a killer as cold out here. It rots the mind the way the damp rots the wood of our bed.
‘She’s looking into it,’ I tell her, feeling that’s a good compromise. After all, I’m not going to tell her the whole truth.
She can’t know about the hemlock. Not ever.
Kay would never be on board with me breaking into the Goddess’s Garden, let alone being complicit in a murder. The less she knows, the better.
‘I got eggs,’ I say triumphantly, reaching into my pocket.
My hand finds the sticky broken shell first and Kay’s face falls in disappointment, though she makes a poor attempt to hide it.
‘Don’t worry, that’s not it,’ I reassure her hastily. ‘I got others. In fact—’ I pull out the first one with a sense of relief. By the third one, she’s grinning, and by the fourth, her hand is covering her mouth in shock.
I reach back into my pocket, ready to retrieve the last two, but feel only one.
‘Everything okay?’ she asks.
I dig deeper. The lining of this coat has so many holes it could easily have fallen through. But there’s nothing. Just the one egg.
‘The little kid,’ I realise. Of course. Running into me wasn’t an accident. And that was why she looked so scared. She thought I’d figured out what she’d done, realised that she’d stolen from me.
A flicker of anger flares to life, only to fade almost instantly. The little girl didn’t steal it for fun. She did it because she was starving. Because she needed to eat. I get that. And it’s not like five eggs isn’t a decent haul anyway.
‘I can do an omelette!’ Kay says, excited. ‘We could use some herbs and spices and maybe even—oh.’ Her face falls a little, and I’d do anything to bring her smile back.
‘What is it?’ I ask.
‘I was just thinking that if we had some flour and some milk, we’d be able to make some pancakes.’ She tries to force a smile.
‘Flour and milk like this, you mean?’ I grin, pulling the bottles out of my coat.
Before I can even register what’s happened, she’s jumped up and wrapped her arms around me so tightly I can barely breathe.
Pancakes. I can hardly believe this boon we’ve been gifted. I murmur my thanks to the Goddess Etta.
This day is looking up, even if itisgoing to end with perfidy and poison.
Chapter 3
By the time we’re done cooking and eating, we’ve used two of the eggs and all the milk and flour. We probably should have saved some, eked it out to last as long as possible, but I can’t find it in me to regret it. For the first time in ages, my belly is full – painfully so – and from the way Kay is sitting with her hands resting on her stomach, she feels the same.
‘That was so good,’ she says, a grin spreading across her face. ‘I could eat like that every day.’
Sadness pangs within me. Back in the High Hold, we would have done. We would have eaten like that and more. Meat. Fruit.
I’m pretty sure the only reason we’re still as healthy as we are is because of the tonic we take. One of my mother’s own creations. One she insisted we take every day. Even when she was sick, she still brewed it, until I took over the role, ensuring Kay and I both took it.
Thankfully, the ingredients flourish in colder climates and are currently growing well in small pots that litter our floor.
I’m not sure my version is as potent as the one Mother used to make. I certainly can’t imbue it with magic the way she could back when we lived in the High Hold.
But it’s not like Kay or I have ever got properly sick. So I guess it works.
Either way, I keep on making it. One last connection to Mother and all that came before.
I pick up the plates and move over to the basin of ice water, ready to clean them. It’s so cold that even though I broke up the ice that morning, it’s back again. We both go still when there’s a knock on the makeshift door.
‘Expecting someone?’ I ask Kay, anxiety stirring in my gut as I think of Tella’s less than subtle comments earlier.
