Brightly Woven(33)

With all ten cottages taken care of, North and I settled on the side of the hill, halfway up the path to Lady Aphra’s cottage.

“I didn’t even know this village existed,” I said. North reclined back on his elbows, his eyes closed.

“I’m not surprised,” he said. “Lady Aphra actually owns the entire valley. She bought the land grant from the king himself.”

“How did you meet Lady Aphra?” I asked. “She’s an interesting choice for a patroness.”

“Why, because she’s not wealthy?” North asked with a teasing smile. I winced at the memory.

“No…I would have thought she’d be…much younger, and more attractive,” I said.

North laughed. “So I only help attractive people? You realize you’re flattering yourself.”

“You’re not helping me,” I said. “I’m helping you, remember?”

“Yes, of course,” North said.

“Good,” I said, happy to be in agreement. “Now answer my question!”

“So nosy,” he said, toying with one of my ringlets. “Magister Pascal and Lady Aphra have been…friends for quite some time. He used to bring Oliver and me up here all the time to help with building the cottages. After I left Magister, I stayed with Lady Aphra and offered my services.”

“I thought wizards relied on their patrons to earn money,” I said. “Do you have another one?”

“No,” he said. “Some of us do odd jobs here and there to get by. You take a patron because you like them or because you’re in for some gold. I chose the former.”

Just then, a small figure came out of the school and rang a large bell four times. The sound echoed off the mountains and carried throughout the valley. North and I watched silently as one by one the door to each cottage opened and scores of children poured out, each followed closely by an adult. I counted thirty-four small heads lined up outside the school.

“Good morning,” came a new voice behind us. We turned to find Lady Aphra descending the path, resplendent in a worn navy dress. A decorative clip pulled back her gray hair, but wild strands were already escaping. Everything about the way she carried herself provided evidence for North’s story. When she reached the school, the children broke ranks and swarmed the old woman.

“She’s a good teacher,” North said. He was on his back, nearly buried in the long grass. His eyes were shut, and his gloved hands were loosely folded across his chest. The smile on his face must have been as wide as my own. I had never seen him like this before, and it was such a pleasant sight I almost didn’t feel the cold.

I lay down next to him in the wet grass, feeling the dew and the new sun. A light breeze whispered through my hair and across my cheeks. And despite the threat of Dorwan and the ache of travel in the soles of my feet, there was little else but happiness in my heart.

Later that day, just as I finished the first quarter of the cloak, a young boy brought two letters up the hill to Aphra’s cabin. North was at the schoolhouse asking a few of the older children about the wolf, so the boy handed the letters to me. They had been forwarded from Fairwell.

The shock that went through my system stole any coherent thought from my mind. Henry had finally written me back.

Turning the envelope over, my fingers brushed the seal almost reverently. There were small bumps in the wax. I brought it to my face for closer inspection. There, in the deep crimson sealing wax, were dozens of small granules of desert sand—of home.

Delle,

I hope you’re safe and this letter finds you somehow. I’m sending a copy to various inns in the major cities, hoping you’ll stop in at least one of them. I want you to know that I’m safe and that the Bailey brothers and I slipped out of Cliffton several days ago on your father’s orders. He wants us to go to Provincia and have me help in the war effort in his stead, but I’m more concerned about spreading the news about Cliffton. When we left, most of the crops had been picked over by the soldiers, but no one had been seriously hurt. The few who tried to get out and were caught were beaten, but not to the point of death. Your family is fine—mine, too—though our mothers are a little worse for wear.

You’ll get to Provincia before us, so I’ll come find you. Stay safe until I can see you again. I miss you.

Henry

“Anything good in the post?” North asked. I pressed the letter to my chest and turned around slowly. He had a smile on his face, and it was such a rare sight that I almost didn’t want to tell him.

“A letter from Henry,” I said quickly. “You have a letter from Pascal.”

“What did Henry have to say?” he asked. He leaned over my shoulder to get a better look, but I kept the paper close.

“That my family is safe and that he and a few others escaped,” I said. “They’ll be in Provincia a few days after us.”

“How very convenient,” North said. “It’s really too bad we won’t have time to drop in for a cup of tea.”

“I’ll have the time,” I said.

“Don’t be so sure,” he said, and reached for one of my loose curls. “Maybe I’ll keep you all to myself.”

I pulled away, my stomach flipping. It was such a familiar touch, something that North had done a dozen times over the past few weeks, but it seemed so wrong for me to like it, to want him to do it again, when I had Henry’s letter in my hands.