Something is wrong and the air is thick with whatever it is.
“Here we are.” Carcina lights the lamps of the room with a sweep of her hand and flash of her eyes. Little things about wild magic make me envious of its blatant disregard for logic.
The laboratory is similar to the one in Quinnar. Instead of a conservatory attached, it opens through arched doorways to a terraced garden facing the city of Westwatch. The layout is somewhat different, but a quick sweep of the room yields where the healers here are keeping similar supplies.
“Everything we should need is here,” I say as I poke my nose in cabinets. “I could bring it to you in the morning?”
“I wouldn’t want to leave you alone here.”
“Is it unsafe?” I can’t help but ask.
“We have added extra security for your visit.” She smiles proudly.
“Then it’s fine. I’m used to working alone. It’s how I would work in my shop. My favorite hours were first thing in the morning before anyone could disturb me.”
“Your shop?”
“I had a shop I opened up after I finished academy.” It seems like years ago now. Time twisted as I passed through the Fade. It must pass faster in Midscape because the memories of my worn counters and rough-hewn bowls are leaving my fingers. It seems as though I’ve been in Midscape all along.
The fading of those connections terrifies me. I have to go back. I can’t know who I really am or what I’m feeling until I do.
“I see.” She’s clearly confused, but accepts the remark in stride and doesn’t probe further.
“In any case… If it doesn’t bother you to have me working alone in your healers’ laboratory, I don’t mind doing so. You look tired and need rest.”
“This child hasn’t even come into the world and he’s already sapping my energy and patience.” Her body emphasizes the point with a yawn.
“Go and rest; I’ll have it ready by breakfast.”
“Thank you again, Luella.” She goes to leave but pauses just before. “I didn’t know what to expect of the Human Queen. I admit…I was a bit nervous. But I’m glad that it is you.”
I can think of no response before Carcina excuses herself for the night.
As I work, I try and place the wrenching, restless feeling that’s propelling my hands with frantic purpose. Guilt, I finally realize. I feel guilty. But for what?
For leaving.
I frown at the liquid bubbling in a small cauldron. I have nothing to be guilty over. I’m doing the right thing for both our worlds and for us. I could never stay with Eldas and be happy, not truly, unless I know I’m staying of my own volition.
“Is it more effective when you make that face at it?” Eldas’s voice cuts through my thoughts. My body jerks, startled, and I face him. He’s lounging against a table, arms folded, looking delightfully smug.
“How long have you been there?”
“Long enough to see you work.”
I must’ve been truly lost in my thoughts to not notice Eldas come in.
“And what a sight it is.”
“What?” I say the word on an exhale, already trying to fish out all the complex emotions he’s somehow fit into the small pools of blue that are his eyes. There’s admiration, a note of sorrow, longing, resignation? More I can’t name.
“You were born to do this,” he says.
“You’ve seen me work before.” I run my finger along the top of a jar before putting it away.
“I have, but I never truly watched. I never paid attention.” The sorrow I saw in him is given sound. “Luella…if we are unable to break the cycle before the coronation…I would do whatever I could, even then, to help you manage the throne. Whatever you needed, I would give you. Perhaps we could even find a way for you to work as a healer in Quinnar too. Maybe, even though you would be a part of Midscape, we could even explore options for you to visit Capton more than just midsummer.”
My stomach twists and when I speak I can’t look at him. I know he’s trying to help. But this conversation dredges up the tangled mass of emotions that I can’t completely pick through when it comes to thinking of my life before, my life now, and whatever awaits me in the future.