Magic's Memories

Chapter Forty-two

Arilla's eyes landed on Sedgewick and enough venom swam in their mossy depths to poison a village. Her expression, however, had been made as smooth as the sharp, orderly lines of her white healer's robe. "Master Alverdyne." She smiled but the venom seeped through.

The apprentice he'd spoken to peered from behind the smaller woman. Sedgewick shot her a glare. Either she didn't know the difference between "Miss" and "Madam" or she'd fetched the woman on purpose.

"You may go, Evris." The sharp jerk of her chin twisted the statement into a command and the girl scurried away. "I assume Healer Morrowbryn has already informed you of my daughter's...error in judgment."

Delia stiffened and Jaerick squeezed her hand silently. "His betrothed is missing. He deserves to know that," she said.

"My daughter's absence weighs heavily on us all, I'm sure. Still, as her mother, you must forgive me for not thinking of informing someone who has been in our lives so briefly." She smiled at Sedgewick, more sweetly this time, and the familiarity of it made his breath catch and his stomach clench. "Do you care for tea?"

Sedgewick eyed her warily. Chatting with Feyla's mother when Feyla was still dragging Dormaeus behind her wasn't an idea he favored. Still, Arilla was here when her daughter had fled and she worked closely with That Healer. She might reveal something useful. "Occasionally."

The venom in those eyes receded, leaving behind only cool, mossy green. If he hadn't seen Feyla's previous panic over the woman then he might have been tempted to think he had imagined it. "Then I'll pour you a small cup," she answered before beckoning him to follow.

Sedgewick nodded goodbye to Jaerick and Delia. The couple stayed silent but Jaerick pinched the fingers on one hand together and laid them across his other palm twice. An Elberic farewell that roughly meant "may the wyrms spare you".

A shudder went up his spine.

Arilla led him further into the healing house. They passed no one, not even that apprentice from earlier. Finally, they reached what looked to be a private sitting room with a table already set with cups. The pot, along with a few tarts, rested on a tray that had been set on a smaller table.

Light poured in from a large window and made the whole room seem...cheery. Arilla paused in front of a brightly-shined mirror on the wall and touched her bun almost out of habit. "I believe you and I started off on the wrong foot," she said while smoothing back a loose hair.

"An understatement, madam."

Arilla finally faced him and waved her hand toward the table. "Please, sit. I'll prepare the tea."

Sedgewick slipped into his chair and curled his hands into balled fists. He couldn't linger. Just long enough to see if Arilla knew anything useful. Arilla grabbed two cups off of the table and moved them to the tray. He heard the splash of the tea a moment later. "Were you expecting company?" he asked.

"I had some earlier," she answered. "But I will admit to preparing extra." She placed the tray on the table and put the steaming cup back in front of him. True to her word, the cup of tea was small. Arilla placed the pot on its wooden holder and gave them each a tart before removing the tray. Her movements, her service, it all felt very...civil.

Sedgewick picked up the handleless green cup. He swirled the brew around and sighed. First Lady Calinya and now Arilla. Was every woman other than Feyla destined to give him tea instead of coffee?

But Arilla was watching him expectantly so he took a sip. "Thank you," he managed to get out past the odd flavor coating his tongue. Would it be rude to add sugar?