Lifeblood

Chapter 10

Mary carefully tipped the table over until it was upside-down. The chairs were shoved by the wall to give her space to work, and a bowl of pine pitch sat by her feet, its aroma sweeter than the batches she made at home. She gripped the loose table leg and rocked it back and forth, traces of the same glue flaking off around the hole as she applied more pressure. Maybe it was made with beeswax instead of tallow?

She wedged her knife in the crack where the leg was inserted, scraping away excess glue. Her other hand rocked the leg every so often, and with the gentle prompting, it came off. She set it to the side.

"Need any help?"

Mary looked up to see Aida, who was leaning over in curiosity. While her untamed hair and tattered clothes suggested poverty, she resembled more an adventurous youth who didn't mind getting dirty.

A refusal was ready on Mary's tongue, but she reconsidered. "Stand here for me." Mary pointed to right inside the corner she was working on. "I don't want it shifting while I straighten this out."

The girl did as was told, and Mary scrapped the remaining glue from the hole. Then she painted on a new layer of pitch and inserted the leg. She pressed down, using her weight to hold it in place.

As she counted the seconds, her eyes were drawn to Aida's shoes. They were falling apart, the leather stretched and the laces snapped, with one of the soles peeling away from the rest of the shoe.

"Aida?"

"Yeah?" She sat down to be face-to-face with Mary and crossed her legs.

"I have some old boots I don't need anymore, but I'd hate to just throw them out. Would you like them? I think we're close to the same size." Mary let go of the leg and lay at eye-level with where it was glued to the rest of the table. Seemed straight enough.

"Sure!"

Aida's grin reminded Mary so much of her own apprentice, and it sent a pang in her heart full of unwanted feelings of home—

No, of Julla. The town was as much her home as anywhere else, and she should not be attached. Perhaps it was a sign when Ivo and the other Ajerchan traders visited. She had stayed too long.

And Rike . . . if they were to stay together, their problems would only multiply.

"Is something wrong?"

She snapped out of her thoughts and regarded the girl. "Just thinking." Mary stood up, gesturing that Aida could do the same.

"I'll be right back." Mary went to her room and retrieved her old boots and her cloak. On the way back downstairs, she checked if Rike was still passed out. He had woken up for breakfast, joining them with half-closed eyes and hair flattened to one side of his head, but returned to the couch shortly after.

Rike was sprawled in a semi-sitting position with an arm draped over his eyes and muttering unintelligible complaints. She nudged his foot with her toe.

"Nnnnnnrghhghh," he said.

He's fine.

She returned to the dining room. "I'm heading outside. Do you mind telling everyone to not touch the table for at least three hours?"

Mary offered Aida the boots, and as she reached out to grab them, her fingers brushed against Mary's cloak. Aida flinched, and the boots fell.

"Sorry, I think it shocked me," she chuckled.

Mary wrapped her cloak around her shoulders, eyes lingering on Aida's fingers.

"Um, can I ask you something?" Aida tilted her head, her hands clasped together and her teeth worrying her bottom lip. "Where are you from?"