Inheritance - The Dark Sorcerers: Book 1

Chapter 15: Mrs. Berrywood

I nodded, although I resented those villagers' intolerant, narrow-minded attitude. Frustrated, I clenched my teeth. The stirring presence in my head that I now easily recognized as my Dark magic pushed against the mental barriers I had pulled up, probably to fill my head with more venomous thoughts, but I ignored it. There was no point in getting angry with Mrs. Berrywood; after all, none of this was her fault.

The elderly woman had finally finished mixing the ingredients and I followed her back to the living room. She poured the boiling water into the bowl and stirred the liquid until the ingredients had dissolved completely. She knelt down next to Ellie, who had been rolled up tightly into a warm blanket. Her eyes were closed and the rattling sound of her labored breathing echoed through the room. My magic senses picked up the oppressive presence of an approaching death, like a weight that pushed me down until my feet became rooted to the ground. I swallowed hard, too scared to look away because if I didn't keep my eyes fixed on her, even just for a moment, she would be gone, trading this world for the Afterlife.

Larry propped up Ellie's head so that Mrs. Berrywood could administer the potion to her. Her eyelids fluttered, but they remained closed while she drank all of the liquid. If her physical appearance hadn't already been proof enough of her critical condition, the fact that she let others take care of her without any resistance on her part definitely would have been.

A warm hand curled around mine and I clung to it like I could save Ellie's life with it. I wondered whether Rowan had taken my hand to comfort me, or because he needed to be comforted himself. Probably both. I intertwined my fingers with his and squeezed, a soft smile crossing my face when he squeezed back.

Mrs. Berrywood tenderly wiped Ellie's mouth and told Larry to carry the Dwarf upstairs to the guest room. "It's the second door on the right," she explained before she headed back to the kitchen.

Rowan and I decided to give the Dwarfs some privacy and sank down into the sofa across the fireplace. Rowan took off his armor and unbuckled his weapon belt, then leaned back into the cushions and folded his arms behind his head, which caused his biceps to bulge.

"You know, after everything that happened today, I almost forgot that we have arrived at our destination," I said. "At last, the answers to so many of my questions are within my reach."

He smiled, but the smile didn't reach his eyes. "I sincerely hope that the Seer can give us something to work with. Something that will tell you more about how to actually defeat the Dark Sorcerers. If she starts speaking in riddles or in more dubious prophecies, I swear I'll ... I'll ..." The muscles in his neck and shoulders tensed, and it suddenly dawned on me how much the responsibility over our little group must weigh on him.

"You'll what?" I asked, chuckling. "Throw a rock at her head? She'll be nothing but a ghost; it'll only pass through her."

Rowan laughed. "Very funny. I just hope that she'll be able to give you the answers you need. The answers that we need," he corrected himself.

His implication that I wasn't alone in my search for answers warmed my heart, although some part of me still refused to believe it. Yes, he and the Dwarfs had been there for me, had saved my stupid ass more than once, but they still had no idea of what I was going through. No matter how much I tried to talk about it with Rowan, I couldn't convey my feelings properly. The doubt whether this—the journey, Ellie's injuries, all of it—was really worth it. My anger toward the White Sisters for keeping secrets. My confusion about who I was.

"Are you okay?" Somehow, Rowan must have noticed that my thoughts had darkened, for he studied my features with a deep wrinkle between his eyebrows.

I nodded, yet I could tell that he didn't buy the happy face I put up for him. Still, I didn't want to give him even more reasons to worry about me. 

He opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by Mrs. Berrywood, who shuffled out of the kitchen with two steaming bowls of stew in her hands. My stomach growled and she smiled at me while she offered us the food. "Enjoy. You have both earned it."

I wanted to thank her, but some indistinct murmur was the only thing I managed to get out with my mouth full of stew. Rowan rolled his eyes and translated my message, "Thank you, Mrs. Berrywood."

"You're welcome. I'll take some food upstairs to your red-haired friend as well."

After we had finished eating, we went to the guest room on the second floor. Mrs. Berrywood sat on the bed next to a snoring Ellie. The Dwarf still looked a bit pale and sweaty, but her fever had been reduced already and her breathing was steady. Larry, Ellie's faithful guard, repeatedly turned down the food that Mrs. Berrywood handed him. Nevertheless, with the stubbornness of a caring grandmother, she decided to leave him some dried beef in case he would get hungry at night. After that, she left the room to go to bed, suggesting that we do the same.

Rowan found a couple of spare blankets and two pillows in the wardrobe, so he and I could sleep on the floor while Larry shared the bed with Ellie. The wooden boards formed a hard mattress, though, in spite of the thick rug that I was sprawled on. As a consequence, I lay awake again, constantly tossing and turning and readjusting my pillow.

After a while, Rowan heaved a deep sigh, cracking one eye open to glare at me. "I can't sleep if you're making so much noise all the time," he whispered, irritated.

His accusing tone bothered me. As if I could help it that I had trouble sleeping on the damn floor! I pressed my lips together and stared daggers at him while I punched my pillow again on purpose, solely with the intention of annoying him even further.

He clenched his jaw, his nostrils flaring, and turned away from me. I stuck out my tongue at the back of his head and turned around as well.

However, both of us bolted upright the moment we heard the distant sound of someone knocking on the front door. On the other side of the corridor, a door squeaked in its hinges and I saw the faint light of a candle passing by through the crack under the door of our room. Mrs. Berrywood's footsteps made a soft thumping sound on the stairs.

"I'm going to check out who's at the door," Rowan said, jumping to his feet. "I have a bad feeling about this."

He opened the door carefully to avoid making any sound and slipped outside. I moved closer to the doorway, hoping that I could eavesdrop on the conversation downstairs. Looking over my shoulder at the Dwarfs, Larry's eyes met mine, full of concern.

"Good evening, ma'am," I heard a low, male voice say. "We're sorry to bother you this late."

"Sure you are," Mrs. Berrywood grumbled, her voice devoid of its usual kindness. "Tell me what you want or get the hell off my property."

The male voice mumbled something I couldn't understand, followed by, "We're looking for four individuals: an Academy soldier, a girl with a green cloak and two Dwarfs. Do you happen to have seen them pass through this village?"

Oh, crap.