“He was so worried,” Penna agreed.
“Boy-? Athan?” Dnara looked around the cottage as Jenny gingerly took her arm in hand.
“He’s gone into town,” Penna answered Dnara’s questioning glance around the room. “Should be back soon.”
“Something about a mule,” Jenny said, carefully scooping a boney finger through the salve pot then dabbing the salve on top of one of the more angry looking blisters. “Not sure what a mule is, and I think he’s tired of all my questions, so I didn’t ask.” As Dnara sucked in a breath, Jenny stopped. “Sorry, did that hurt?”
“A little,” she lied. It hurt like getting lashes had stung. “It’s okay. Thank you. And a mule is like a horse.”
“Oh!” Jenny smiled at the explanation then dabbed the next blister.
“I don’t think Athan means to be cross with you, Jenny” Penna said, heading back to the unlit hearth as Tobin let out a hushed string of curses. “He just needs a good night’s rest.”
“We all do,” Tobin said as he disgruntledly tossed the unlit log onto the dead fire before looking to Dnara. “And good morning to you. Would you like some...” He glanced to the cold teakettle and sighed. “Cold water and cheese?”
Dnara’s brow furrowed. “You can’t get the fireplace to light?”
“Not the fireplace, nor a log, nor an oil lamp,” Tobin listed. “I can get flint to spark, but not a single flame will catch, even on the driest of wood.”
“How is that possible?” Dnara wondered aloud.
“Beothen thinks the blight has cursed our hearth,” Tobin answered. “He left to go check on the town, and we haven’t heard tale since. Hopefully, Athan brings news from him.”
“Well, you can ask him yourself,” Penna said as she leaned into the small window looking out onto the cabin’s front yard. “Athan’s back with his mule.”
Dnara’s chest swelled with the thought of Athan’s return, and she stared at the door, waiting for it to open. The stinging from the salve being applied to her blisters faded into the background. Last night, she had admonished herself for having become so dependent on Athan’s presence, but now she wanted nothing more than to see his smile and take comfort in the assurance it offered. When the wood door opened, her breath hitched and time seemed to slow. He walked in, boots heavy in their footsteps, and lowered his hood. A frown weighted down the smile she had hoped to see.
“What news?” Tobin spoke first, his own worry mirroring Athan’s expression.
“Not good, I’m afraid,” Athan replied. “Your neighbor’s hearth is out as well. In the town, the lack of fire is sporadic. When I arrived, the blacksmith’s furnace continued to burn, but the men’s bathhouse couldn’t produce a single flame. Beothen has begun organizing a way for people without fire to cook their meals, but as I was leaving, one of the blacksmith’s forges had gone out and couldn’t be relit.”
“Faedra have mercy,” Tobin prayed. “It’s spreading, then? Like the blight?”
“Appears that way,” Athan answered gravely. “I’m not sure what-” He stopped, his eyes finally settling on Dnara as she sat on the hay with Jenny delicately tending the blisters. “You’re awake.”
The way he said it, as if a great weight of worry had been lifted, made her heart ache in appreciation. Someone had been worried for her; someone had hoped for her to reawaken and be all right. How could she have contemplated running away from such concern? And the way he looked at her... It made it hard for her to form words in reply.
“Just woke up, she did,” Jenny said, filling in the silence as Dnara and Athan stared silently at one another. She put away the salve pot. “There, that should do for now.”
“Thank you,” Dnara managed to speak to Jenny just fine, but her words were less certain as her eyes meet Athan’s once more.
Penna let out a tiny tittering snort then headed from the door. “Jenny, Tobin, I could use your hand in bringing up more water from the brook for the washing.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Jenny quickly jumped to her feet and headed out the door without question.
“How’re you going to do the washing without warm water?” Tobin asked, even as Penna began tugging him out the door by the arm.
“The old fashioned way,” she answered. “Elbow grease.”
“What’s that?” Jenny could be heard asking as the door closed, along with more protesting by Tobin.
Once the door shut, the cabin fell to silence. Dnara continued to stare up at Athan, and he continued to stare back. Several unspoken words passed through his eyes before he finally stepped forward and knelt by the hay.
“How do you feel?” he asked.
“Warm,” she answered, though uncertain it was the fever’s doing.
He hesitated then palmed her forehead. “Seems your fever’s gone down.” His hand slid from her forehead down to her cheek, lingering there for a moment before he withdrew its touch. “You had me- all of us worried.”
“I’m sorry,” she said, unsure what else to say and still dazed by the touch of his hand on her cheek. “I don’t know why I keep fainting.”
“The magic,” he said, his gaze now examining her arms. “Beothen said his sister would pass out from time to time before she learned to control the magic. Even using a small amount of magic can make a mage tired. But...”
As Athan hesitated to say more, a chill crawled up her spine. “But, what?”
His eyes rose back up to meet hers. “He’s never heard of anything like this. You... You expelled the blight from Penna. I think it scared him, and Beothen is a hard man to scare. Scared me, too, honestly, seeing the blight like that. And then the screaming... I’ll never forget
