“G
ood morning, Mr. Hamilton. How are the girls doing? Better, I hope.”
Mark’s face brightens at the mention of his children. “Yes, they’re on the mend, thanks to you. My wife and I appreciate everything you’ve done. We are in your debt.”
“You and Lori owe me nothing. It’s the least I could do since you helped fix my roof. The only thing I did was give the girls salves. They did the rest of the healing on their own.”
“Well, I know since your parents moved, you’re alone in that old farmhouse. And I don’t mind helping fix things, so if you need anything, please don’t hesitate to ask. Oh, and I’m sure Lori will be up your way with dinner tonight or tomorrow.”
Lori’s cooking is something Idreamof. “Tell her I would not be upset if it were potato soup.”
Mark laughs but nods, letting me know the message will reach her, and I’ll be eating well for the next few days.
“Are you shopping in town today, Grace?”
“Only passing through. I’m heading to the woods for herbs to replenish my stock.”
“Well, it’s a lovely day for a hike, and you got an early enough start to beat the heat.”
I smile and wave goodbye before walking down the road.
The Hamiltons have long been neighbors of mine, and I appreciate them immensely. Ever since I bought the house from my parents last year,it’s as if something needs to be repaired every other day, and Mr. Hamilton has been kind enough to lend a hand. So whenever his kids get sick or hurt, I make them herbal remedies or salves, just as my mother taught me.
It really is a beautiful day for a stroll through Trimton. It’s a small town. Fewer than three hundred people call it home, and most are like me and live in the countryside. Tiny red-brick houses line the main road, along with a tailor, a butcher shop, and a post office.
I wave to each person I pass.
“Early start today, Grace?” Gary Ferguson calls from the front of his butcher shop.
“Just trying to beat the heat,” I say as I push a strand of auburn hair off my already sweat-soaked brow and keep moving because it’s true; the way the sun shines promises a hot day ahead.
The walk across town takes only ten minutes. Sometimes, moving to a bigger city with more people sounds wonderful. Countless generations of my mother’s family have lived on my property, and any time I consider leaving, it’s like the land whispers for me to stay. The rolling green hills and surrounding forest just feel like home.
Esmarae has plenty of towns, even a few bigger cities spread around the continent, and maybe I’ll visit them one day, but I’m happy here for now.
Even though I’ve walked this path in the woods a thousand times, the view never gets old. On one side, tall pine trees line the trail like rows of watchful sentinels. On the other, a steep slope overlooks a lushvalley.The path forks ahead, and one side winds up a hill, leading deeper into the forest. Maybe I could grab some elderberry for Lori that way—sheloveselderberry tea.
After hiking the steep trail for nearly an hour, my muscles burn, but the summit is within sight. While I like to consider myself fit, this trail does itsdamnbest to prove me wrong. The only thing standing between me and the plateau is a row of boulders, so with my last bit of energy, I pull myself up and over it. As I stand, I’m struck by the strangest vertigo sensation.
The bright day plunges into darkness, and the world around me spins uncontrollably. Then, as fast as it happens, the darkness disappears, and I squint against the bright sunlight.
What was that?
I take a tentative step but stop as my stomach rolls with the abrupt change in motion.
Bracing my hands on my knees, I hang my head and inhale deeply. The smell of the woods and the warm sun on my back help recenter me until the vertigo subsides.
When I straighten, the green valley stretching out before me seems familiar, butalsonot. The fine hairs on my neck stand on end as a creeping sensation washes over me. I slowly, almost unwillingly, turn to find the boulders I climbed over are gone.
A twang breaks the quiet of the woods, and I stagger back as searing pain pierces my shoulder.
I swallow hard and reach over, grasping the slender shaft of an arrow, but as I pull, my hand slides away, coated in a gray-green sludge. The pungent scent brings valerian root to mind and something else, something more acrid that I can’t name. But if it’s mixed with valerian root, I have little time. Whatever this poison is, it was made to knock me out.
Numbness spreads through my body with every beat of my heart until my legs finally buckle under my weight. A cry rips from my throat as my shoulder impacts the ground.
My body feels heavy, as if the air is trying its damn best to shove me into the dirt, but now that I’m on my back, I notice the sky. It looks the same as any other morning, but somehowmore. Like the sun shines brighter, and the blue is more vibrant. A bird flies overhead, and I swear the feathers have an iridescent quality I’ve never seen.
Damnit. Whatever this poison is, it’s strong. My limbs won’t move. From the corner of my eye, I watch as the man who shot me approaches, bow and arrow drawn.