Chương 7: 6 • TEA AND SECRETS

5 TEA AND SECRETS 🙜"E mber… I used to be very good friends with your sister."" I know." Ember stuffed a biscuit into his mouth and shrugged.

"You were like a pair of magpies, always flying off and cackling about some thing or other." One of Isabel's eyebrows quirked upward.

"You sound resentful." Ember sighed, chewing thoughtfully and enjoying the flavor of the twice-baked rye; slightly bitter, with a hint of ginger and clove.

"I miss her, that's all." A faint breeze blew through the open windows, rustling the curtains and bringing the scent of fresh rain and upturned earth." She was smart enough to fly far away from this valley," Isabel said, turning away from him and gazing out the window.

"As I say, we were friends. Close enough for me to care what happens to her family, or whatever is left of it—which is you, I suppose." Ember rolled his eyes to the ceiling." You needn't be offended. I hide none of my feelings—if I disliked you, you would know. There isn't a man left in this valley who dares come calling, and none with whom I would share my tea if they did." Isabel tapped one of her calloused fingers on the table.

"You always seemed a decent sort of boy; I wished you well."" Kind of you." Her eyes flashed back to his, dark and sparkling.

"It seems it didn't do much good." Ember's heart thumped very hard. He lifted his chin." What do you mean by that?"" Rumor has it you've been all over town, asking questions you shouldn't." Forcing a laugh, Ember reached for his cup of tea.

"Rumors are funny things, aren't they? You can't believe the half of what you hear." Isabel's stare narrowed, and she flattened her tapping fingers against the table, ignoring the biscuits.

"You never were a great liar, Ember Jarelson. If I were you, I'd stay out of town for a while." Ember gulped down a mouthful of the warm, herbal concoction to hide his surprise; it tasted strongly of lavender.

"What for? Have you been listening to those idle-minded gossipers at the market? They don't know anything."" That makes their prattle more dangerous," muttered Isabel, taking an irritated sip.

"Have you seen the way they look at you? Crossing to the other side of the road, turning their backs on your table at the tavern—and when you do bring fish to sell, hardly a soul will buy them. You're a fool if you think they'll let you walk free once they've discovered your secret." At this, Ember sat up in the chair." Secret?" he mumbled, trying to sound casual.

"What are they saying?" She waved dismissively, leaning forward and taking her tea in both hands.

"Oh, I don't believe a word of what they're saying. I've heard whispers that you're a conjurer, a descendant of ancient spellweavers. Some even claim you were devoured long ago, and something else has been using your likeness to get closer to another meal." Stolen story; please report. All of the blood drained from Ember's head. He tried to hide a swallow, but Isabel's eyes flicked to his bobbing throat. He gulped down the rest of his tea and thumped the mug on the table.

"That's—that's crazy!"" Of course it is… but there's always some truth to rumors, isn't there, Ember?" And she swirled her tea, her gaze piercing. Ember looked down at the biscuit in his hand; he contemplated finishing it, but his appetite had suddenly gone. He set it on the table.

"Thank you," he managed bleakly, "for the tea."" It was well worth the trouble," she said quietly, taking another sip. Have I really been that obvious?" I'm afraid I can't stay much longer—I have some business to take care of…"" So it would seem." Isabel stood curtly, throwing a cloth over the plate of uneaten biscuits and taking Ember's empty teacup.

"I trust you will take the shorter trip through the woodland path next time, where no one will see you; I'm happy to part with tea and biscuits, but not what little remains of my reputation… at least so long as you insist on making yourself a fool in town. Come again any time." Ember looked at her in surprise, a faint flush rising unbidden to his cheeks. She inclined her head.

"I don't say that to just anyone."" I know." He stepped awkwardly to the door and creaked it open, a breath of clear meadow air washing over him.

"I appreciate it." He was about to step over the sill when Isabel's sharp voice halted him.

"Ember..." In a moment she was beside him, pressing a cloth bundle into his hands. A bit of brown hair had come loose from her braids, and her distinctive scent washed over him; he noted how different it was from the strange floral aroma which hung about the river of late. She was real and warm—like bread, earth, and spices. He glanced down at the lump of cloth. The rest of the biscuits." Do try to take care of yourself." Before he could respond, she had whirled away, and the door thumped shut.

❧ Twilight darkened the forest path as Ember returned to his cabin, and he unslung his spear from his back, holding it loosely in his hand and casting his gaze about the darkened riverbank. Isabel's words echoed in his mind long after their conversation ended, and he found himself wondering how far the rumors might spread—and how many townsfolk believed them. He scoffed under his breath. I wonder if I could scrounge enough to live on from the forest, without going to town.

Perhaps it would be best to lay low for a week or two... A soft sound floated up from the bushes to his right. It reminded him of a woman's hum, but somewhat out of tune. No, not out of tune— A melody that was not of his people. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end and he scoured the tall grass with his eyes. The humming stopped, and he heard a little splash along the riverbank. He turned sharply in that direction." Hullo!" he shouted, before he lost his nerve, startling the crickets into silence.

There was a long nothing. The water lapped along the bank, but he thought he heard a faint rustling on the path leading up to his cabin, among the trees. He looked ahead and—with a will—kept walking, holding tight to his spear." Where are you?" There was another long silence. He had almost made it to his door when a little sigh stopped him on the flagstone step. He spun around, staring wild-eyed at the tall grass by the river." Hullo?" he repeated, more softly.

For all their gifts and mutual acceptance of the other's presence, he had never tried talking to it directly—and his heart pounded in his chest as he wondered what that might initiate. He didn't really want it to speak—to enchant him—and yet he wished to hear it speak for itself, to tell him why it was here. Ember looked out at the river for a good ten minutes, watching, but it refused to show itself.

At last he reached into the bundle of biscuits, withdrew the largest one, and made an obvious display of placing it on the wooden step. It wasn't until after he had turned out the lantern and crawled into bed, and was lying there, staring at the ceiling, that he heard sticky footsteps on the path outside. The wooden step gave a low creak. He lay awake for a long while, listening in the dark, but heard no more.