“Oh Sol,” Everly whispers.
I wave away her concern and make my point. “But I didn’t have the marbles with me. They were in my bag in the cottage.”
“Did you still have the bloodstone that Hector gave you?”
“Yes. I didn’t lose that until afterward. Mildred couldn’t have placed magic in the bloodstone threads.” I shake my head, wondering if I’m wrong. “Could she?”
Everly smiles as though she holds all the answers and is just waiting for me to catch up. “You’re Sol. You don’t need her magic.” Her voice teems with happiness. “It was always in you.”
Was it?
It didn’t seem like it when I was a child and plotting to avenge Mother.
“You’re the spark, remember,” Everly says. “All you ever needed was bloodstone and kyanite stones.”
The tent flap lifts, and an older Hematite man enters carrying two platters of food and two goblets. He sets them on the ground, barely within our reach, and leaves without a word.
“These Hematites are so friendly.” Everly rolls her eyes.
“It’s the heat,” I say, needing a little levity after everything that has happened today. “It has siphoned all their kindness, leaving only sweat.”
I scowl and wipe the sweat from my brow. If it was any hotter, I would spontaneously ignite.
“And stench.” Everly wrinkles her nose. “So much stench. Did you get a good whiff of Red Beard?”
“I once cleaned a pig pen that smelled better than he did.”
Everly laughs, and I join in, laughing until my sides hurt.
She grabs a goblet and lifts it near her mouth. “It’s putrid.”
I take the goblet from her and sniff, smelling the dirty water. “Hades! That is the foulest thing I have ever smelled. Did they take it from Red Beard’s tent?”
A smile tugs at Everly’s mouth. “It’s probably what he uses to bathe with.”
I glance at the platters of food, taking in the stale, lumpy looking bread. “I am not hungry enough to eat that.”
Everly shakes her head. “I’m not either.”
My stomach rumbles in protest. Unconsciously, I run my fingers against it, wishing I had something to eat for the baby growing inside me.
Everly watches me for a moment. “Do you want a boy or a girl?”
I blink, caught off guard by her question. In truth, I haven’t really allowed myself to think about it. If I do, I will feel immense guilt for allowing this to happen in the first place. As a healer, I should have known better.
The child deserves better. Not this. Not this woman full of patches and darkness. Every day, I sew more patches across the fabric of my life—hoping they will hold me together until I renew.
What if they don’t?
What if I die and I take this child with me?
Stop it.
Please stop it.
“Sol.” Everly’s soft voice draws me back to her. “You are thinking too hard. Too deep.” She lowers her hand to mine, fastening her fingers tight, giving me some of her strength. “Just enjoy this.”
She nods to my stomach.
