The Grace Year(7)

Michael gets down on the forest floor to help me look. “But what if it’s someone agreeable … someone who could give you a real home? A life.”

“Like Tommy Pearson?” I loop an imaginary rope around my neck to hang myself.

Michael chuckles. “He’s not as bad as he seems.”

“Not as bad as he seems? The boy who tortures majestic birds for fun?”

“He’s really very good with them.”

“We’ve talked about this,” I say as I comb through the fallen scarlet maple leaves. “That’s no life for me.”

He sits back on his heels and I swear I can hear him thinking. He thinks too much.

“Is this because of the little girl? The girl from your dreams?”

My body tenses.

“Have you had any more?”

“No.” I force my shoulders to relax. “I told you, I’m done with all that.”

As we continue to search, I watch him out of the corner of my eye. I should’ve never confided in him about her. I should’ve never had the dreams at all. I just have to last one more day and then I can rid myself of this magic for good.

“I saw guards on the lane,” I say, trying not to be too obvious about my prodding. “I wonder what they’re doing way out here.”

He leans in, his arm grazing mine. “They almost caught the usurper,” he whispers.

“How?” I ask a little too excitedly, and then quickly rein it in. “You don’t have to tell me if—”

“They set up a bear trap, out in the woods, near the border of the county and the outskirts last night. It went off, but all they caught was a light blue stretch of wool … and a lot of blood.”

“How do you know?” I ask, being careful not to seem too eager.

“The guards called on my father this morning, asked if anyone had come into the apothecary looking for medicine. I guess they called on your father, as well, to see if he treated any injuries last night, but he was … indisposed.”

I knew what he meant. It was a polite way of saying my father was in the outskirts again.

“They’re searching the county now. Whoever it is, they won’t last long without proper care. Those traps are nasty business.” His gaze eases down my legs, lingering on my ankles. Instinctively, I tuck them under my dress. I wonder if he thinks it could be me … if that’s why he was asking about my dreams.

“Found it,” he says, plucking the pearl from a bit of moss.

I brush the dirt from my palms. “I’m not knocking it … the whole marriage thing,” I say, desperate for a change of subject. “I’m sure Kiersten will worship you and bring you many sons,” I tease as I reach for the jewel, but he pulls his hand back.

“Why would you say that?”

“Please. Everyone knows. Besides, I’ve seen the two of you in the meadow.”

A deep blush creeps over his collar as he pretends to clean off the pearl with the edge of his shirt. He’s nervous. I’ve never seen him nervous before. “Our fathers have planned out every detail. How many children we’ll have … even their names.”

I look up at him and can’t help but crack a smile. I thought it would be strange picturing him like that, but it feels right. How it’s meant to be. I think he went along with me all those years mostly on a lark, something to pass the time, away from the pressures of his family and the grace year ahead, but for me, it was always something more than that. I don’t blame him for becoming who he was supposed to be. He’s lucky in a way. To be at odds with your nature, what everyone expects from you, is a life of constant struggle.

“I’m happy for you,” I say as I peel a red leaf from my knee. “I mean it.”

He picks up the leaf, tracing his thumb along the veins. “Do you ever think there’s something more out there … more than all of this?”

I look up at him, trying to gauge his meaning, but I can’t get caught up in this again. It’s too dangerous. “Well, you can always visit the outskirts.” I punch him on the shoulder.

“You know what I mean.” He takes a deep breath. “You must know.”

I snatch the pearl from him, slipping it into the hem of the sleeve. “Don’t go soft on me now, Michael,” I say as I stand. “Soon, you’ll have the most coveted position in the county, running the apothecary, taking your place as head of the council. People will listen to you. You’ll have real influence.” I attempt a simpering smile. “Which brings me to a tiny favor I’ve been meaning to ask.”

“Anything,” he says as he gets to his feet.

“If I make it back alive…”

“Of course you’ll make it back, you’re smart and tough and—”

“If I make it back,” I interrupt, dusting off my dress the best I can. “I’ve decided I want to work in the fields, and I was hoping you could use your position on the council to pull some strings.”

“Why would you want that?” His brow knots up. “That’s the lowest work available.”

“It’s good, honest work. And I’ll be able to stare up at the sky anytime I want. When you’re eating your supper, you can look down at your plate and say, my, that’s a fine-looking carrot, and you’ll think of me.”