Wystwood

69. Flowered from a wish

"Time to rest," said Armestrong, bustling into the infirmary with Min. They both held two mugs of something sweetly steaming. "Warm tea to douse the nerves. Min, isn't there something calming you can add? You made that salve yesterday, didn't you?"

Min strained a few buds of chamomile and lavender into each of the mugs, which Ada would have certainly found soothing had Armestrong not been peering over her shoulder to check she was indeed finishing the tea. But when she was finally alone beneath her blankets, Ada didn't seek out sleep like the rest of the bandits.

Curled up on one side, Ada wriggled out of her overclothes and unfolded her grandmother's letter. The creamy envelope had been smeared with soot and grime, but her name was still swirled across in navy ink. Ada's heartbeat thrummed within her fingertips as she tore it open.

A single slip of paper was inside, but before Ada could retrieve it, something tumbled out into her hand. It was a glass flower, cool as crystal with a delicate head of lilac petals. It felt as though it might snap between Ada's fingers, but she couldn't stop turning it over and around, as though the curve of its stem skirted some fragile secret.

So enchanting was the flower that it took Ada several moments to remember her letter. The paper was thick and folded, weighed down with what Ada thought was sure to be a thousand words, every one resolving a mystery that had haunted her since her fall down the Wishing Well. But Ada's excitement faded when she saw that the letter was only three lines long.

Words are worth more than wishes.

May you be wiser than I ever was and love as deeply as I do you.

Gran.

Ada's eyes burned with tears, and she pressed her lips together against the sudden sob welling up from her chest. The rupture between Ada's body and her world suddenly felt fresh and tender, every part of her aching for its loss. She grasped the glass flower until the shape of it was pressed into her skin. Then, Ada reread her grandmother's letter until sleep swept away the words.

She jolted awake with letter and flower still in hand. The infirmary was hushed and only Armestrong's soft snores drifted between the bunk beds. Time was never easy to tell within the Stone Circle, but no matter the hour, Ada doubted she would be able to fall back to sleep. Her heart was thumping as though she had woken from a nightmare, the howls of dogs sinking away into the earth.

Throwing a blanket around her shoulders, Ada clambered down into the infirmary. Her eyes were so bleary with sleep that at first, she missed Min huddled in the corner, the girl's face ashen aside from the deep shadows above her cheeks.

"Min," Ada whispered, coming to crouch beside her. "It's early. You should go back to bed."

Min mutely shook her head, limp curls falling over her eyes as she turned towards the wall.

"What's the matter?" Ada tried again. "Did you have a bad dream?"

"I'm scared."

"You're safe down here, Min," Ada told her, feeling for her shoulder in the darkness. "The Stone Circle will protect you, and you'll be with Armestrong and Hester while we're away."

"It's not me," Min said, opening her hand to reveal her silver coin. "I'm scared that you'll leave tonight and won't come back. I'm scared that I can't help you."

Ada glanced at the beds on the opposite side of the infirmary. The lumps of blankets that were Armestrong and Lark still slept soundly, so Ada reached over and took Min's hand.