Facing the Gray

by Carol Beth Anderson

  She hung up her coat and hat and followed Wrey into the kitchen where two men sat. One appeared to be around Jenevy’s age, maybe even younger. He was thin and had a face that looked like it smiled more often than not. Aldin, Jenevy thought.

  The other man was several years older and one of the handsomest men she’d ever seen. Ash. He raised his eyebrows, giving Wrey a wary look. “Care to introduce us to your guest?” he asked her.

  Jenevy glanced at Wrey, who stood still, her mouth open a bit. “I didn’t know you two were up,” Wrey said.

  “My name is Jenevy.” Hand outstretched, Jenevy approached Ash first. After giving his hand a firm shake, she repeated the gesture with Aldin. “I’m a healer, and I need to make a medicinal tea for Wrey.”

  Ash’s eyebrows went even higher. “Oh,” he said, and based on his tone, she guessed he knew more about Wrey’s struggles than the young woman had hoped. “Well then, good. We’ll let the two of you have some privacy.” He stood and hurried out of the room.

  Aldin followed, but he stopped at the doorway, turning back to Jenevy. “It was a pleasure to meet you,” he said with a smile that contained more than a hint of flirtation.

  Jenevy couldn’t help but smile back. Then she turned back to Wrey, reminding herself that Aldin, while cute, was also a Gray. That she still liked Tullen, though that appeared to be hopeless. And that she was here to help a woman and get information, not to make a match.

  “Have a seat, Wrey,” Jenevy said. “May I use that kettle?”

  “Of course.” Wrey sat at the table, and as Jenevy filled the kettle and placed it on the hot stove, she watched Wrey press her hand against her abdomen.

  “Cramps too?” Jenevy asked, joining Wrey at the table.

  Wrey looked up. “Yes. Not too bad though.”

  Jenevy pulled two small bags out of her pocket. “I brought a bit of painkiller for the tea, too,” she said. “Just in case.”

  “Veneta leaves and lindflower?” Wrey asked.

  Jenevy gave her a surprised smile. “Exactly. You’ve used them before?”

  “I used to work at a healing house,” Wrey said. “They gave it to me every month. When I left, they wouldn’t let me bring any with me. For the same reasons you had to come here to make it, I suppose.”

  “Yes, veneta is restricted,” Jenevy said. “It’s toxic at moderate doses. What did you do at the healing house?”

  Wrey looked away. “Just an assistant,” she said. “Thank you for coming; it’s very helpful.”

  Jenevy nodded. Clearly Wrey didn’t want to talk about her previous position. According to Reba, Wrey had used her sight gift as an effective anesthetic at the healing house. Patients must have appreciated having an option besides ether. Jenevy felt sudden pity for Wrey, who was stuck in this place now, required to help Konner whenever he wanted to put someone to sleep quickly. How had he ever convinced her to leave a good job and join the Grays?

  “While we wait for the water to boil, why don’t you tell me more about the difficulties with your cycle?” Jenevy suggested.

  Wrey complied, and Jenevy determined the issues weren’t out of the ordinary. “Did the tea work well in the past?” Jenevy asked.

  Wrey nodded. “Some months were still bad, but the tea made it more manageable.”

  “Good. I can only make you one cup at a time, but the effects should last much of the day. I’ll be happy to return tomorrow morning.”

  “I think one day will be fine.”

  Jenevy nodded and kept the smile on her face, but her heart dropped. How was she expected to get information if she could only visit the house once a month?

  They continued to talk, but any time Jenevy’s questions ventured in a personal direction, Wrey’s answers became short and terse. Jenevy didn’t want to push, so she kept the conversation light.

  The water boiled, and Jenevy made one cup of tea, as promised. Wrey sipped it, screwing up her face at the bitterness.

  “You can add honey if you’d like,” Jenevy said. “I know it tastes dreadful.”

  “I’m used to it.” Wrey smiled before taking another sip. “Thank you so much.”

  It sounded like a dismissal. “Do you have a bathroom I could use before I walk back?” Jenevy asked.

  “Of course.” Wrey rose, teacup in hand, and walked Jenevy back to the entry area. She opened a door that led into a small bathroom with only a sink and toilet.

  Jenevy went in, coaxing herself to urinate in case Wrey was listening, then flushed the toilet and washed her hands. She opened the door, hoping to at least peek into the rooms nearby, but Wrey was waiting for her.

  “I appreciate the help,” Wrey said. “I’m sure I’ll be sending you a message next month too.” She walked to the front door. Definitely a dismissal.

  Jenevy followed Wrey, then gave her an impulsive hug. “It was my pleasure,” she said. “Please let me know if I can do anything else for you at all.” When she pulled away, she saw tears in Wrey’s eyes. Jenevy gave her one more hug.

  They separated, and Wrey opened the door. Jenevy left, keeping a smile on her face, though it took effort. As soon as the door closed, her shoulders dropped. “As a midwife, I was successful,” she whispered to her unseen listeners, “but as a spy, I’m afraid I’m hopeless. I’ll see you back at the midwife house.”

  Everyone else was as disappointed as Jenevy, and though they made a clear effort not to blame her, she couldn’t help but question her every word and action with Wrey. Could she have insisted on going to Wrey’s bedroom, telling the woman she needed to rest? What if she had put something in the tea to make Wrey sleepy? Perhaps she should have requested a tour of the house?

  But her ideas ranged from unreasonable to ridiculous, and no one else had any brilliant plans to get more information on the Grays. It seemed all they could do was wait for Wrey to call Jenevy the following month, and for as many subsequent months as it took for Jenevy to build trust or get a lucky break.

  As the days passed, Jenevy felt a general sense of unease, helpless to do more for the cause. She couldn’t stop trying to think of other ways to get into the Gray House. At least that helped distract her from her feelings for Tullen. However, each night she lay in bed, surrounded by darkness and silence, and she couldn’t help but mourn the loss of her hopes for the two of them.

  Ten days after Jenevy had visited Wrey, Pala again entered the girls’ room early in the morning. She carried an envelope that looked identical to the last one.

  This time, however, the note inside was from Sella. Wrey had told her about Jenevy, and now Sella needed assistance too. The air itself seemed full of new energy as Jenevy, Tavi, and Tullen all prepared to leave.

  Jenevy waited at the front door. Just as before, Wrey opened it, and this time she greeted Jenevy with a genuine smile. “Thank you for coming. Sella’s upstairs in her room. Can I bring you to her?”

  “Of course.” Jenevy smiled, trying not to convey her excitement.

  They walked behind the kitchen to a set of stairs, and Jenevy followed Wrey to the second floor. They stopped at a closed door, and Wrey knocked, receiving a curt “Come” in response.

  Both women entered the room. It was dim, with the shades drawn. A woman lay in the bed on her side, legs curled up to her chest under the sheet and blankets.

  “Sella, this is Jenevy,” Wrey said.

  “I guessed as much,” Sella said. “You can go, Wrey.”

  Wrey turned, and Jenevy thanked her as she left. The door shut. Jenevy pulled a desk chair next to the bed and sat. “Can you tell me what’s wrong?” she asked.

  “Every month my insides travel to Kovus and bring back fire and brimstone,” Sella said. “It rumbles around in there for at least a full day.”

  “Cramps?” Jenevy asked.

  “Yes, cramps,” Sella snapped. “If you want to use such a mundane word for this torture.”

  “It’s dark in here; do you also have a headache?”

  “Yes, and don’t you dare ope
n the shades; they’re the only thing keeping me halfway sane.”

  “I understand; I won’t touch them.” Jenevy put a hand on Sella’s shoulder, but the woman shrugged it off. Very well, then. “Not knowing precisely what your difficulty was, I brought a variety of teas,” Jenevy said. “Based on what I’m seeing, you’ll need the strongest painkiller I have.”

  “Let me guess, you have to make it for me, and you can’t leave me any for later,” Sella said.

  Jenevy smiled. “Yes, it’s very strong, so I can only make one cup for you. But I’m happy to come back if you need me. May I brew it now?”

  “Yes, go—just go.”

  Jenevy patted Sella once more on the shoulder and was again rewarded with an annoyed shrug. Tough customer.

  Downstairs, Wrey, Ash, and Aldin sat in the kitchen. Jenevy greeted them and put the kettle on to boil. “I’ll sit with Sella while I wait for this,” she said.

  “Good to see you again,” Aldin said with that carefree smile.

  Jenevy returned the smile and walked back upstairs. She stopped at the top and gazed down the hall, then over her shoulder. There was no one to see her, and all the house’s known residents were accounted for. She could peek inside the various rooms to see if they contained anything useful. It would be safe, or as safe as this venture could get.

  So why was her heart pounding so urgently she feared it would leave her chest? I have to do this, she told herself. If someone comes upstairs, I’ll tell them I’m looking for the bathroom, that’s all. She forced a deep breath into her lungs and let it out as she approached the first door.

  Jenevy’s hand was so sweaty, it slipped off the handle when she grasped it. She wiped her palm on her skirt and tried again. The door slipped open with a creak she feared could be heard throughout the house.

  It was a bedroom, and it was a mess. Sunlight streamed through the window, highlighting an unmade bed and clothes strewn about the room. Because of Reba’s preparation, Jenevy knew it was Aldin’s room, but she would have guessed that, anyway. She assumed no one would let him keep anything of value in such a disorganized space, and she pulled the door shut, jumping when the latch clicked.

  The room across the hall was Ash’s bedroom. It was tidy, and several pieces of art were tastefully arranged on the walls. Ash’s artistic sensibilities shone in the room; it was the first place in the house where Jenevy had seen many decorations. Heart pounding even harder (which she hadn’t thought possible), Jenevy stepped in. Atop a small desk were blank writing paper and a pen, but there were no drawers to rifle through. Jenevy left the room and moved on.

  The next room was windowless and small. Light from the hanging lantern in the hallway streamed in, and Jenevy took a moment to glance at the bed, stripped of bedding, and the small dresser. This had been Reba’s room, and it didn’t appear to be in use now. Jenevy imagined Reba being stuck in the dreary room for months. She frowned and closed the door.

  Across the hallway was Sella’s room. Jenevy wondered if Sella could hear her walking around up here. She kept going, keeping her footsteps light.

  Next to Sella’s room was an open door. Wrey’s room. Jenevy peeked in. The room was neat as a pin. A hatbox sat on the dresser, and a pair of ladies’ boots were beside the bed. Next to the door sat a desk, on top of which were two personal letters, still unfolded. Konner probably has to approve them before they’re sent out.

  At the end of the hall was another door, which Jenevy knew was the bathroom. She ignored it and looked to her right, where there was one last, unopened door. This was the library, used also as a study. Reba had told Jenevy that this had been one of her favorite rooms, and when she’d been allowed to enter it, she’d carried as many books as she could back to her room.

  Jenevy opened the door, and her eyes widened. It was beautiful. Light from a large window made the room deliciously bright. Full bookshelves lined every wall. In a house so sparsely decorated, the abundance of books was shocking. No wonder Reba had gotten such a good education here. In the center of the room sat a large desk, covered with papers.

  Jenevy glanced down the hall once more. Seeing no one, she stepped inside. She eased the door closed and headed straight for the desk.

  She scanned papers as quickly as possible. They were all bills, some marked “PAID” with a date and others unmarked. They were for ordinary household expenses such as food and clothing. She catalogued the payees in her mind. Perhaps later it would be useful to know that Jarod’s Meats and Mintina Tailoring visited this home.

  But the information Jenevy was gathering wasn’t what they were looking for. If this was all she came home with, everyone would be disappointed, her most of all. She pulled open the center drawer of the desk and found only pencils, pens, and ink.

  The right-hand drawer, however, contained more papers. On top was a list of names, most with check marks next to them. She counted them (twelve) and then read them, trying to commit some of them to memory. Only one was familiar: Camalyn Hunt.

  Jenevy set the list on the desk and removed a stack of cards from the drawer. They were all made of smooth, thick paper in tasteful shades of white, cream, and blue. She glanced through them. They were responses, every one of them accepting an invitation to something. The wording on each was standard, with only slight variations: “I accept your invitation with gratitude.” Each card held a name, and every name matched up to one written on the first sheet.

  But what had these people been invited to? Jenevy replaced the cards and list, closed the drawer, and opened the drawer beneath it.

  Yes. It contained several blank envelopes and three hand-written invitations. They must have made more than they’d needed. She’d only read the first few words (“You are cordially invited . . .”) when her head snapped up at the sound of a male voice calling her name.

  Jenevy had a sudden urge to scream or cry, but she held herself back, trying desperately to keep her breath regulated. Remembering the two listeners at the nearby café, Jenevy whispered, “I’m in the study, and someone may be coming.”

  Tavi was watching people on the street when Tullen’s movements caught her eye. She turned to him.

  He’d stood from his spot across the table from her, and he was looking all around with a panicked expression on his face.

  “What is it?” Tavi asked, activating her hearing gift almost without thinking. Tullen didn’t answer her. “Please sit down; you’ll attract attention,” she said. “Tell me what happened.”

  Tullen stared at her for a moment, then sat, though he looked like a big cat ready to pounce on its prey at a moment’s notice. He tapped his ear.

  “It’s active, but I only hear Wrey and Ash talking,” Tavi said.

  “She said she’s in their study, and—”

  Aldin’s voice sounded in Tavi’s ear. “What are you doing in here?”

  Jenevy’s voice was friendly and calm. “I was going to use the bathroom, and I opened the wrong door. Then I saw all these books, and I thought perhaps I could find some calming poetry to read to Sella while we wait for the tea. Have you read this one? It’s quite lovely.”

  “I don’t read much poetry. I don’t think Sella does either.” Aldin cleared his throat. “We thought you’d just be in Sella’s room.”

  “Oh, I’m terribly sorry.” The nervousness in Jenevy’s voice sounded all too real. “I simply thought a book would be nice. I’ll go back to Sella. Do you think it would be all right for me to take this with me?”

  “Sure, I guess you could. But I came up to tell you the water’s boiling. I’d be happy to walk you downstairs.”

  “That would be lovely.” After the sound of a door closing, Tavi heard Jenevy again. “You never did tell me your name.”

  “It’s Aldin.” Tavi heard the smile in his voice. “I love your name, Jenevy. I’ve never heard it before. And your accent. You’re not from the city, are you?”

  “I was born down south,” Jenevy said, sounding as cheerful as ever.

  Ash and
Wrey entered the conversation, and Tavi listened as they all chatted casually. When Jenevy told them the tea was steeped and ready, Aldin offered to walk her upstairs.

  “I’ll keep listening to Jenevy; can you focus on Ash and Wrey?” Tullen whispered.

  Tavi nodded and continued to listen to the conversation in the kitchen of the Gray House. They talked about what they’d be eating later that day, and when Aldin came back, the other two Grays teased him about the pretty visitor upstairs. Aldin never mentioned catching Jenevy in the study.

  “She’s leaving,” Tullen whispered.

  “I’ll keep listening after she goes, just in case they say anything about her,” Tavi said. Tullen nodded.

  A minute or so later, Tullen whispered, “Jenevy wants us to go straight back to the midwife house so she can talk to everyone.”

  That sounded encouraging. They began the walk home, and Tavi kept her magic focused on the kitchen conversation until the connection broke. She was too far away.

  When they reached the midwife house, Tavi and Tullen gathered Narre, Sall, Reba, and Pala. Jenevy burst into the dining room where everyone was waiting. She told them first about the list she’d found, along with the response cards.

  “Do you remember any of the names besides Camalyn’s?” Pala asked.

  “I think I can remember a few,” Jenevy said. “One of them was kind of a funny name. Nor-something. Maybe Norbert or Norbin?”

  “Norbin Amonel?” Pala asked.

  “That was it!”

  “He’s a councillor,” Pala said.

  “I also remember someone with the last name Stantin.”

  “She’s on the council too,” Pala confirmed. “Arlina Stantin.”

  “Yes, that was it! And Kervis . . . Kervis Something?”

  “Kervis Shefford—he’s a councillor too,” Pala said.

  Tavi watched this exchange, growing increasingly impressed by Jenevy. She’d had little time to study the list, and she’d been nervous. How had she had remembered that much of it? She caught Jenevy’s eye and gave her a small smile and a nod.