Emerald's Fracture

by Kate Kennelly

  Jules popped the last of his rabbit into his mouth. “We’re on our way to Mistfell today. We have reason to believe the epidemic may have spread there. Tell anyone you encounter to avoid it, just in case.”

  Natalie rested her forehead on her hand. “Should we even tell the Abbey we’ve left Whitestrand for Mistfell?”

  “We’ll have to if we get there and we need a quarantine,” Jules pointed out.

  “I guess we’ll have to hope they’ll understand why we left Whitestrand without permission,” Natalie sighed.

  “Don’t count on it.”

  Natalie finished putting her items into her pack and secured it to Benji. She observed Jules, Anli, and Onlo deep in conversation closer to the stream, their dark heads bent together, faces sober. She rolled her eyes. After all they’d revealed, now they didn’t trust her? She double-checked Benji’s tack, then mounted up and directed Benji toward the three of them. She was determined to join the conversation whether they liked it or not.

  As soon as she approached, the three of them shook hands with each other and dispersed. Natalie huffed. Goddess forbid she disrupt their little secret society.

  Onlo approached her on his dark stallion, smiling broadly. “It was good to meet you, Natalie. Take good care of my brother for us.”

  Natalie raised her eyebrows. “I will if he lets me.”

  Onlo chuckled at Jules’s snort, then rode off down the road. Anli was already riding down the path, having only said farewell to Jules.

  Natalie turned Benji to face Jules, who was loading up Elric with his gear. “Where are they off to?”

  “To spread the word about what’s happening here to their fellow Islanders so they can prepare extra defense measures for Ismereld,” Jules said.

  Natalie nodded and they rode off toward Mistfell in silence. She loathed the awkwardness between them but had no idea how to fix it. It would be easier if his moods stopped swinging like the clock pendulum in Headmistress Gayla’s office. She knew it was normal for someone who had experienced trauma; she just wished she could help him in some way.

  “Now you know,” Jules said, “some of my war experiences and what lies between Aldworth and me. Now that we’ve disobeyed Council orders, he will be angry, which makes him a greater threat to me. And if I am in danger, then you are in danger by virtue of being my partner.” He stared down at the stump of his arm. “I’m not certain I can protect you if he comes for us.”

  “Why did you go back to the Abbey if he is such a danger to you? And if he wants you so badly, why did he let you go to Whitestrand?” Natalie still couldn’t believe it. Why hadn’t Jules told her about Aldworth before now?

  “After his megalith … did whatever it did to me, it disintegrated. I was covered in dust when I came to. I figured, with no megalith, he didn’t need me anymore, so I returned. Besides, he’d be foolish to move against me so overtly at the Abbey. Which is why I think he sent me to Whitestrand. Revenge, I think. He hoped I would die there, you see.”

  Lifting her chin to contradict such an astonishing accusation, Natalie took one look at the guilt and pain etched on his face, and the words stuck in her throat. She stared at the road ahead, letting the silence cloak them for miles.

  Chapter 13

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  he next morning, Natalie and Jules rode over a hill on the outskirts of Mistfell. A familiar grove of trees and a wooden red house came into view. Unable to contain herself, she signaled Benji to speed up.

  “Nat, wait,” Jules called after her.

  Natalie brought Benji up in a tight circle.

  “What?” she demanded.

  “We need to do one last check for symptoms. You exposed yourself to all those patients in Whitestrand. We—we need to be absolutely sure before we go riding into town.”

  Natalie looked at her home and back at Jules. Dammit, he was right.

  She guided Benji back to Jules. “I haven’t had a headache or stomach issues. No fever or sweating beyond what’s normal for summer. I think we can rule out contact with people or surfaces, or bodily fluids. Why don’t you Name me just to be sure?”

  Jules nodded and they dismounted and tied the horses to a nearby tree. Standing in the sun-dappled shade, Jules approached Natalie and offered her his hand. Keeping her eyes on the thick blades of grass beneath her boots, Natalie took his hand. She placed her free hand on her head and breathed deeply, letting Jules do all the work.

  “You’re just fine,” Jules whispered.

  Natalie removed her hand from her head and opened her eyes. He still grasped her hand.

  “I’m sorry, for how I behaved at the campsite.”

  “I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have said what I did about your time in the army.”

  He squeezed her hand.

  She squeezed his hand in return. “You can tell me things, you know. It’s hard being your partner if I’m left in the dark.”

  Jules bowed his head. “Trusting people is hard. After what happened with Aldworth … He was my Cultural Studies professor and so well regarded. I trusted him. And he …”

  Natalie bit her lip. “I’m still not sure I believe it myself.”

  “I know. It’s hard when people we respect turn out to be rotten at the core. But I will try to trust you more if you try to trust me and believe what happened to me at his hands. Now”—Jules led her over to the horses—“come on. I’d like to meet your family.”

  Natalie cantered down the lane, right to the front porch of her childhood home.

  “Mother?” She leaped off Benji, ran to the door and knocked repeatedly. “Da? It’s me, Nat,” she pushed the door just as her mother pulled it open from the inside, and she flew into her mother’s arms and squeezed her as hard as she could.

  “Nat, how are you doing, love? We didn’t expect you; what are you doing here?” Mother said into her shoulder.

  “It’s a really long story. See we were sent to Whitestrand and … and …” The sobs Natalie had held back for days came out just then. She cried on her mother’s apron much as she’d done when she was twelve and the baker’s son had broken her heart.

  “Nat, is that you?” Da came in the back door of the house, wiping the dirt off his boots. He was just as large and burly as she remembered him, though perhaps there were a few more lines on his face and some grey hairs sprinkled in his beard.

  Natalie flew at him and squeezed him hard; she’d missed the tickle of his whiskers when hugging him. “I’ve missed you so much, Da.”

  Loud footfalls sounded on the stairs. “Nat?” Her brother, Aaron, jumped down the rest of the flight and joined their embrace, nearly knocking her and her father over. Her mother hugged them all, and for the first time in a long time, all was right with the world. She closed her eyes and wished time would stop for a bit.

  When she opened her eyes, a tall, dark figure hovered at the door. “Oh, I’m sorry. Jules, please come in. Mother, Da, Aaron, please meet Healer Juliers.” She led her family by the hand to the door and let Jules in. “Jules, this is my mother, Anna, my father, Gerard, and my brother, Aaron.”

  Jules greeted each of her family in turn. “It’s nice to meet you.”

  She watched Jules take in the kitchen with its large cast iron stove—perfect for making Natalie’s favorite apple tarts— its worn curtains, multicolored braided rug, and roughhewn wooden table and chairs. She wondered what someone who’d grown up as part of Roseharbor’s upper crust thought of an apple farming family’s humble house.

  When her mother offered them lunch, Natalie declined. “We’re unfortunately here on official business. We’re looking for a brewer named Morley. We just came from Whitestrand where there is an epidemic. The town is under quarantine and he left there without permission.”

  Each one of Natalie’s family backed away from her.

  Natalie held up her hands. “We know the illness isn’t spread from person to person, but we haven’t eliminated food
or water as a source yet. Have any of you seen Morley? He would have come to town a few days ago with a wagon and ale. Has a horrible attitude toward women.”

  Natalie’s father shook his head. “I didn’t see him, Nat, but you know the best place to go for information around here.”

  Natalie rolled her eyes. “The Leaking Dragon.”

  “The Leaking Dragon? Really? How is that a name for a tavern?” Jules hissed at her as they walked down the main street of Mistfell proper.

  “Look, I didn’t name it; the demented barkeep did. And besides, we need the information.”

  Jules grunted and followed Natalie and her father into the tavern. Natalie’s father ordered an ale from the barkeep. The barkeep, Oswald, was a short man; his cropped, red hair stuck out in all directions, and he wore one half of a pair of orange-tinted goggles to cover up what Natalie knew was his missing eye. Natalie had no idea how he lost it and she’d always been hesitant to ask; Oswald had a habit of sharing a little too much information. She hoped that habit would help them now.

  He squinted at Natalie. “I know you.”

  Natalie smiled. “Yes, I’m Natalie, Gerard’s daughter.”

  “Mmph. The Healer. What can I get you and your man?”

  “Oh, no, he’s not—I mean, nothing, thank you,” she replied, blushing. “This is Healer Juliers and we’re looking for information on a brewer who might have come this way recently. A Mr. Morley?”

  Oswald rolled his eye. “Large man resembling a horse’s ass?”

  Jules grinned. “That’s the one.”

  “Was here yesterday. He’s tried to sell me some of his donkey piss another time. Told him I’d have none of it this time either. He stayed here for the night and moved on this morning.”

  “Did he say where he was going?”

  “Roseharbor, I think.”

  Natalie and Jules blanched.

  “Has anyone in town been sick?” Jules asked.

  Oswald grinned conspiratorially. “Well, ol’ Ron the Butcher took himself on a trip to Whitestrand a month or two back and spent the night with a lady and now he’s got a pox. His wife ain’t none too pleased.”

  “Thank you, Oswald,” Natalie said. Jules nodded to the door and Natalie bobbed her head to show she understood. “Da, we’ll be right back.”

  She and Jules stepped into the street and found an alcove in which they could speak without being overheard.

  Jules threw his hands up in the air. “Because what we needed is more guesswork.”

  Natalie nodded. “The illness could be here, on its way to Roseharbor, or nowhere. Dammit.”

  Jules shook his head and shrugged. “There’s nothing for it—we’re going to have to tell the Abbey now. The more eyes and ears we have, the better. We can send word by rider and head back there ourselves in the morning.”

  “I agree. Let’s go to the town hall and see if any riders are available.”

  At the town hall, a fourteen-year-old girl named Becca with a sleek, dapple gray horse said she could make the trip to the Abbey in two days. The Healers borrowed paper and a quill from the town hall and wrote a letter to the Abbey detailing their experience at Whitestrand, all they knew about the sweating fever, the escape of Morley and his suspected location.

  Once sealed, Natalie handed the letter directly to Becca, who took it and tucked it safely in her saddlebag. “Deliver the letter directly to Headmistress Gayla herself.” Becca nodded, her long, dark brown braids bobbing as she did. Natalie reached into her pockets and handed Becca several coins and an Abbey token. “Here,” she said “for your upkeep along the way and payment once you get there. You have our gratitude. May the Five light your path and keep you safe.”

  “Thank you,” Becca said and cantered off.

  That night, Natalie got to do something she’d hated as a child and horribly missed once she was at the Abbey: she helped her family cook dinner. She and Jules agreed it would be safe as long as the food supply came from the forest and not the town. The aroma of the cooking venison, for which she’d selected seasonings from her old herb garden, wafted through the house. Da and Aaron prepared root vegetables, while Natalie and her mother tended the venison.

  It was a hot summer evening inside, despite all the windows in the house being flung as wide open as possible. Still, Natalie’s heart swelled taking in the smells and sounds of her family preparing food. Da talked about how this year’s apple trees were doing well. Aaron told Jules about school and his desire to travel to Obfuselt to see if the island’s stone would Attune him.

  “So young and already he talks about going so far away,” Mother murmured to Natalie as they checked the meat. “But, I can’t deny he loves building things. He’s constantly fixing broken equipment around the farm.”

  Natalie wiped sweat from her forehead. “Luckily, I became Attuned right here. I love this island and I can’t imagine ever leaving.”

  Her mother handed her a glass of water, and they stepped out onto the porch to escape the kitchen’s heat. “But it’s hard, yes? Your life as a Healer?”

  Natalie rested her crossed arms on the porch railing and took in the sight of the farm before her. “It can be, yes. This past week has been the most difficult of all. I’ve seen and done things I never imagined … I mean, when I left here to attend the Abbey, I imagined helping people. And I have. But this week …” Natalie shook her head.

  “If anyone can solve this problem, it’s you. I believe in you, Nat,” her mother said.

  Tears spilled over onto Natalie’s cheeks as she thought of a Temple full of dying people and a pyre on the beach with the ashes of the dead swirling around her. “I don’t think I can.”

  “I know. That’s why it’s good, in our darkest hours, to have someone strong to rely on.” Mother nodded back to the house. “You seem to have found a good person to have at your side.”

  Natalie nodded. Despite their ups and downs and their struggle to trust each other, she would not have made it this far without Jules. Actually, since we’ve set out from the Abbey, he’s had my back without fail. Maybe … maybe I can trust him more after all. He promised to start trusting me more. My Goddess, if Healer Aldworth really did that to him … Natalie put her hands on her cheeks. It was too terrible to comprehend.

  “Are you and he—?”

  Natalie shook her head quickly. “No. I thought maybe there was a chance, but—it’s complicated.”

  Her mother smiled and took her arm. “It always is. Come, let’s see if dinner is ready.”

  Dinner was an amicable affair, with everyone crammed in elbow to elbow at the table, trying to eat and converse at the same time. Once again, Natalie wanted to freeze time so she could savor the taste of the food, the sound of her family and the fullness of her heart.

  Even Jules joined in the conversation. He told Aaron a funny story from his boyhood in Roseharbor. Natalie found herself just as entranced by the story as Aaron. She caught herself grinning like a fool and quickly wiped her mouth with her napkin. Jules arched an eyebrow at her, one side of his mouth curling up in a smirk of his own.

  Da told them it was just as well they hadn’t arrived during harvest season, and all four Desmonds told stories of apple harvest seasons past, working from dawn to dusk, selecting the proper apples, getting stung by a variety of insects and never getting enough sleep for weeks.

  “It isn’t all bad, though,” Natalie pointed out. “Fresh apple pies and tarts are possibly the best things in the world.”

  Jules smiled. “See, now I insist upon coming here during harvest season.”

  “Ha,” Natalie’s father said. “We’ll just put you to work.”

  “No problem. I take pies as payment.” Jules waggled his eyebrows.

  Natalie stood and began to clear the table. Aaron came along to help with the dishes. Natalie listened for the sound of her mother fainting at the sight of them doing the dishes and not fighting.

  “Mr. Desmond, ar
e you all right?” Jules asked. Natalie froze, suds dripping from the plate she was washing.

  “It’s nothing. Just a headache I’ve had for a bit has suddenly gotten much worse.”

  Natalie dropped the plate and ran to her father. No. No, no, no, no, no. She reached her father’s side soon after Jules did and put her hand to his forehead. It was burning up. But was that a fever or the warm evening? Dammit, she wasn’t sure.

  Natalie took her father’s arm. “Come, Da, you need to lie down. Jules and I need to treat you.”

  “Nonsense, it’s just a headache. Give me one of your teas, Nat, I’ll be fine.”

  Jules took her father’s other arm. “Mr. Desmond, I agree with your daughter. I think you need to lay down. We need to do something called Naming on you. Has Nat described it to you?”

  Her Da nodded and as he did so, he began to slump out of his chair. Natalie and Jules grabbed him and helped him stumble over to the couch, which was near some open windows. Natalie pulled some chairs over next to the couch. Her mother and Aaron watched her, hugging each other with terrified expressions. “Mother, please boil some water. Aaron, if you can, find something to help cool Da down.”

  As they rushed off, Natalie and Jules sat next to the couch. They exchanged a helpless look before joining hands and placing them on Natalie’s father. When they finished Naming, a deep, terrifying chasm opened in Natalie’s chest. “Five help us,” was all she could say.

  Chapter 14

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  olding a torch in one hand, Natalie rooted through her old herb garden, digging up all the tanyaroot she possibly could. She couldn’t believe Da had this Five-damned disease. She wanted to lay down and cry until no more tears came. She wanted to grab a stick and smash everything in sight. But Da’s life was in danger. She had to save him. She had to.

  When she had all the tanyaroot she could find, she ran into the house and set it on the counter. She’d prepare it later; there was no time now. The rest of what she had left in her satchel already sat steeping in a mug on the counter.