by Lisa Daniels
One of the men pulled a seat from the small waiting area. “If you would please sit down, Callie. We need to talk.”
***
Four years had passed since that terrible day. Michechel had made a full recovery, but Callie had never made it to his home to find out what he wanted for his birthday. She had two funerals to plan. Michechel had gotten married less than four months later, and now he and his wife had three children.
Callie let the basket swing by her side as she walked along the road, the memories of that day occasionally haunting her. She looked up at the sky and sighed as a small drop of rain hit her face. Unfazed, she shook her head and began to hum. Within 10 minutes she was completely soaked, and puddles began to form both in the road and along the sides of it.
The sound of a carriage hurrying behind her caught her attention, and she stepped to the side of the road. It was strange that a carriage would travel through here because the road really wasn’t often used by the kind of people who had carriages, and it was risky for the horses given the large holes. It certainly wouldn’t be a comfortable ride for the occupants. Moving as far off the road as she could, Callie continued to make her way back to the shop, trying to walk around the puddles.
Suddenly she was knocked off her feet, her body flying like a rag doll through the air. She was fortunate enough to have a large puddle soften her fall, but it also completely covered her in mud. She was only partially aware of the sound of the carriage halting. It was only when a man’s voice rang out that she looked up, the anger growing in her. There had been plenty of space. The horses could have killed her. Balling her fists, Callie knew that much of her work had just been undone—she could see the basket broken in the road with most of the contents crushed by the horses’ hooves and carriage wheels.
“What do you think you are doing, peasant? Do you have any idea how expensive these horses are? They are worth more dead than you are alive.”
Her eyes shifted from the demolished basket to the man. She was prepared to respond, letting her anger show, but then Callie’s eyes saw the shimmering metal that was approaching her.
The man laughed, “I see you understand the situation. It’s not like anyone is going to notice. I should let my servant do this, but I feel personally insulted by what you did, and the best way to teach others is to dole out punishment yourself.”
Callie’s eyes watched as the man approached her, waving the sword side to side as a way to increase her fear. When he reached her, Callie knew there was nothing she could do. This was a noble. If she were to try to fight, the men standing around the carriage would kill her. If she ran, they would kill her.
The sword was drawn back. “Good. Very good. I love it when the sheep accept their fate.” She saw the malice in his eyes, and Callie knew in that moment she wanted to live. It was the only thought she had as the sword began to move toward her heart.
Chapter 2
Between Sleeping and Waking
As Callie was furiously trying to think of a way out of the situation, another male voice spoke from behind her. “I don’t recommend that.”
She would have thought it was one of the men in the nobleman’s group warning her to just sit there, except that Callie could see the look of rage on the nobleman’s face at being interrupted. The person standing behind her was not talking to her.
Holding his sword, the nobleman’s eyes narrowed. “Who do you think you are?”
It was obvious from their voices that the two men were of higher birth, but clearly they were not on equal footing. The man behind her had an exotic accent.
“I am not someone that you should cross.”
Callie wanted to turn around to look at him, but the sword was still pointed at her. Moving back ever so slightly, she took advantage of the fact that the nobleman was distracted to distance herself from him.
“You are a foreigner in my lands. You don’t get to tell me—” Callie’s eyes were trained on the man as he began to draw the sword back again. An arrow suddenly passed through his throat—Callie noticed that it actually passed through the man’s throat—and he dropped the sword. He was grasping at his throat as blood seeped out of it. The men standing around the carriage began to move toward him when the voice behind her rang out, “Unless you want to follow him into the Depths, I suggest you get back in your carriage and return for him in three hours.” The man’s voice was soft, but the menace behind it did not need to be loud to cause Callie’s hair to stand on end.
The men looked at the nobleman, who was now trying to make it back to them. There was a flurry of activity, but soon they were quickly moving away from the scene. Callie watched as the man on the ground fell to his knees, his hand outstretched toward the carriage. Callie quickly rose and hurried in his direction. Before she could reach him, another arrow appeared in the back of his head and the man stopped.
Callie froze. The man behind her was clearly dangerous, much more dangerous than the men who had just left or the dead man in front of her. Her heart was pounding as she forced herself to turn to look at the man. Her eyes ran along the edge of the forest searching for him, but she saw no one. Baffled why someone would intercede, then disappear, Callie began to feel oddly at peace.
Frowning, she decided to ask what happened next. “I suppose this is the part where you take me somewhere and I spend the rest of my life repaying you for saving my life. I have to let you know that will probably kill my village. They have no other apothecary. If you want, I can provide you with any medical assistance or potion you desire, and you can return for it whenever you want. But I don’t think I can live knowing that my village died.”
There was no response.
“Does that mean I am free to go?”
For the first time in four years, a voice rose in her mind. “Stretch out your hand.” This time it was much stronger, but she did not get the impression that it was demanding her to act.
Callie blinked, but did as the voice told her. The pieces of the basket began to shift, and she watched as it put itself back together. The items in the road soon settled themselves into the basket, and when she went to pick it up, Callie noticed that all of the items looked exactly as they had when she had collected them. Only the corpse in the road remained to prove that it had not been a bad hallucination from some of the roots she had found.
Callie looked around her, almost afraid to find out what was going on. When there was no obvious answer, she took a step back toward the village. She felt bad about leaving the man in the road, but she couldn’t help him now, and if she were caught, things would get worse.
She took another step. Then another. Soon she turned and quickly began walking home. A minute later, she was running.
As soon as she reached her home, Callie removed her clothing and began to clean off the mud. Her mind went through scenario after scenario of what would happen next. Callie wasn’t about to involve the villagers in the death of a nobleman, and thanks to the mud, none of the rest of the nobleman’s party would have been able to identify her. There was still a twinge of guilt that she had just left his corpse there, but the image of a sword being drawn back quickly reminded her what would have happened if the stranger had not interceded.
“Well, he did warn the nobleman. He had a chance to avert his own death,” Callie thought aloud as she got ready for bed. She knew that sleeping was going to be very difficult, but she still had a few hours before she would even attempt it. With the ingredient still fresh (and inexplicably whole again), she needed to do some work to start preparing for the potions and elixirs they would make. Most of the ingredients were for lunar potions, and she only had two nights before those would need to be ready. She seemed to have a penchant for making potions, and much rarer elixirs, and she was hoping to make something that would alleviate some of the pain the villagers felt after their long hours in the field. It was a complicated elixir that she had found in a rare book a traveler had sold her in the tavern. The traveler had said that she needed the money
, and since she already had the book memorized, she was willing to part with it. Considering the size of the book, Callie had been both impressed and suspicious, but she still bought it and had not regretted it since. The lunar potions had been difficult at first, but now she had mastered most of the basics and was moving into the more complicated elixirs.
Moving silently through the empty home, she picked up the basket and small bag of mushrooms, which was also unharmed, and moved to the mixing room. She needed to make sure everything was in order for the morning. While it was true that there was no replacement for her if something happened to her, Callie had actually taken on an apprentice almost a year ago. Michechel’s younger brother, Proseus, had always been weaker than his siblings because of a birth defect. Her fathers had talked Proseus’ parents into keeping the child, saying that there would likely be a place for him one day. Their words had proved to be true, and Callie was sad to see that her fathers had not seen just how wise their words had been. Proseus had proven to be a very quick learner, and Callie soon realized that he was even more intelligent than his older brother. Now 16 years old, Proseus had found a place that suited him, and Callie enjoyed his company. Lately, he had started trying to do things for her that Callie knew meant that he was developing feelings for her, but she did not see him that way. After losing her fathers, Callie had no interest in forming another close bond and having her heart broken again. Given Proseus’ parents’ previous habits, and the reputation Proseus had developed working for her, Callie knew it was only a matter of time before they selected his wife. She was looking forward to that day because she did not want to have that awkward conversation with him.
Keeping her mind occupied as much as possible, Callie tried to bury the events of the day until she was ready to consider them. The next couple of days were busy enough without trying to puzzle through the strange events of the day. There was no reason for the carriage to have struck her, and there was certainly no need for a nobleman to try to kill her over it. She had not noticed a puddle as big as the one she had landed in, and it was in a place that she had walked moments before. Everything about the incident was strange, almost supernatural, and she did not have time to think about it.
When she finished her work, Callie decided to take a bit of her Prism plant to help her sleep because it was clear the events were just waiting in the back of her mind. She pulled out a book and lay down to read while she waited for the plant to knock her out.
At some point during the night, she thought she heard a noise. Trying to open her eyes, Callie found that they were too heavy. The sound of her door opening didn't seem to affect her the way that it should have. She froze, her breath continuing as if she were still asleep. A voice echoed down the hallway, but a hissing sound quickly shut it up. Callie did not recognize the voice. Her first thought was that the noblemen had somehow figured out who she was and where she lived, but that thought didn’t last. Noblemen would have sent people to figure it out, and the incident happened a long way from anywhere. It would have been impossible to have figured it out that quickly. And the voices that she heard definitely did not belong to noblemen, and didn’t sound like the kind of people who would work for noblemen.
Callie settled on her second guess. It was very likely that they were thieves who had snuck in and were looking for whatever they could find. Twice before, people had broken in needing potions and supplies, and her fathers had aided the would-be thieves instead of turning them over to the government. Thinking that she should get up and help, Callie started to open her eyes.
The voice spoke to her, “Stay still. It will be handled.”
Uncertain if the voice was connected to anyone or anything, Callie thought back to it, I want to help them.
“They are bandits. It isn’t help they are looking for. Stay still and it will be handled.”
Who are you?
As if in response, there was a loud shout from down the hall. The bandit who had entered her room dropped one of her glass devices used to magnify items. Silently she cursed at him as the bandit ran out of the room. Several minutes later, she hadn’t heard anything else. Callie wanted to get up and see what had happened because it seemed impossible that the men had just disappeared, but her mind drifted off before she could do anything else.
***
When she woke the next morning, Callie sat up quickly, her eyes looking for signs that the night before had been more than a dream. Automatically, her gaze went to where the device had broken the night before. There it was, sitting where she had left it on the dresser, whole and unharmed. Running her hand along her forehead, Callie decided she should avoid using the Prism plant again. It never seemed to bring about the results she wanted, and that wasn’t even the first time it had caused nightmares. A part of her wondered if the plant had managed to cause her to have a nightmare about the day before, replacing a normal walk home with the bizarre events that still didn’t seem real.
The sound of the front door opening shook Callie from her thoughts, and she finished getting ready for the day. Stepping out of her room and closing the door, she moved to the shop area.
“Good morning, Proseus. I have a few things for you to do today since I was able to find plenty of roots for the potion for your sister-in-law.”
His large brown eyes reminded Callie of a deer. With a shy smile, he moved around the counter. “Whatever you need help with, I’m willing.”
She patted his shoulder. “Come on, but be careful. There are a few new things in there that I need to check, and they aren’t meant to be exposed to sunlight.”
He nodded and followed her into the room.
The next few hours passed by without any issues, so Callie was feeling particularly happy as they wrapped up the preparations for the potions. The next day was going to be very busy, but Proseus would be around to make things a bit easier.
When he prepared to leave, Proseus turned to look at her. “My brother told me that you and he used to, um, meet up.”
Callie cringed internally at the sudden mention of the past. While she didn’t regret the time she and Michechel spent together, she had changed a lot since then. Knowing where Proseus was trying to steer the conversation, she took it to a safer area. Keeping her eyes on her task of crushing a fine powder for joint pain, she answered, “Yes, we did a few times, but it didn’t lead to anything. We were both too young.” She added the last sentence hoping that Proseus would take the hint. “Speaking of Michechel, would you mind taking him some of the Summer’s Touch? He mentioned that Carlson was having some trouble sleeping at night, so I made mixed a small amount that should be safe to use for a toddler.”
There was a pause as if her apprentice was thinking about which topic to pursue. It didn't take long for his curiosity to win out. “I thought Summer’s Touch was to lower a fever.”
“It does, partly by helping the patient sleep better. In small enough doses, it can be a sleep aid, but it should not be used for more than two days. If taken too often, you develop an immunity, and then it will be harder to bring down a fever.”
“That would be a bad thing.” Proseus seemed to be processing the information, and Callie knew that it would stick.
Privately musing over why she hadn’t suggested making him an apprentice sooner, Callie nodded, “Yes. It certainly would. However, it sounds like Carlson is getting better, but he needs to sleep soundly if we want him to continue to convalesce.”
Proseus picked it up. “How much should I give him?”
Callie almost told him that Michechel had that information, but she knew that Proseus would be more diligent about doing it right. “Just enough to coat your fingertip. Like this.” She walked over, wiping her hand on a rag, and was about to pour out a small amount into a dish when there was a loud bang from outside. Putting the flask down, Callie immediately moved toward the door. “Stay here.”
Throwing the door open, the apothecary rushed outside, then stopped immediately at the site of an enraged boar ramming a
tree a few hundred feet from where she stood. She heard the door open behind her, and Proseus let out a yelp. Callie understood how he felt. The white lather around the boar’s mouth showed that it was rabid, and that meant it was going to attack anything that caught his attention.
Unfortunately, Proseus’s yelp caught the boar’s attention, and it turned toward them. It squealed as its eyes seemed unable to focus, and it charged in their direction. Callie pushed Proseus back into the shop knowing that there was no way the door would hold under the force of a boar. As she tried to close the door, she thought she saw a streak of white flash from the side of the house, but her body was moving on its own. Instead of satisfying her curiosity, Callie slammed the door.
“Come on!” She grabbed Proseus’ hand and pulled him to the back where they would be safer if the creature crashed through the door. She took him into the room that used to be her father’s because it was furthest from the front. Racking her mind, Callie decided she had to do something.
She turned and wagged a finger at Proseus. “Stay here. I mean it. If I catch you coming to the front or going outside, so help me—” She let the threat hang in the air, knowing that her apprentice’s mind would come up with something far worse than anything she could threaten.
As she ran back to the shop, Callie’s mind remembered her thought from that morning. Within the last 24 hours there had been three very strange events, and she wondered if perhaps she was still asleep, the Prism causing her to have a perpetual nightmare.
A loud roar from outside reminded her that now was not the time to try to figure things out. If this was another strange Prism-induced nightmare, she would wake at some point. If that noise outside was real, she had to protect her apprentice and keep the creature from charging the village.
Grabbing a few roots and mushrooms, she hastily mixed them with some Summer’s Touch, enough of a dose that smelling it would knock the creature out. Of course, it wouldn’t be instantaneous, but it was the best she could do.
