The back of the wagon had a few personal items buried under a mound of uncooked corn that had been preserved from last year’s harvest. At the cottage, Penna had been unable to cook her cornbread for Tobin to sell. There were still fires in town, though Beothen’s daily report had the number steadily dwindling. There were fears in the town, too, Athan had said. Fears that soon Lee’s Mill would be trapped within darkness and unable to survive the cold winter to come. The yellow banners overhead flapped defiantly with the wind, touting how some hope yet remained that the gods were real and that they were listening to the growing desperation within the prayers of men.
“Hold up there,” a gate guard instructed and the wagon stopped. Dnara glanced over her shoulder to see Mikos approaching. The guard spotted Dnara eyeing him and gave the wagon a wide berth as he walked to Athan. “Beothen’s looking for you, and the...and her. Wants you to head over to the temple as soon as you pass the gate, he said.”
Athan cursed under his breath. “I told him she’s not ready. Her arms are still-”
“Ready for what?” Dnara asked as she hopped off the wagon and walked over.
Mikos took a step back, his eyes immediately looking to her bandaged arms then to his boots and staying there. The unsettled fear in his eyes told the truth of it; Beothen had told him of what happened at the cottage. “Not my business, Mageraetas,” he muttered the formal title of the mageborne, sending a shiver of repulsion up her spine. “I’m just the messenger.”
“Well,” Athan said with irritation lacing his words. “You can messenger right back to Beothen that she’s not ready,”
“Ready for what?” she asked Athan again, this time with more demand in her voice. Her arms did hurt under the bandages, but they no longer bled and all the blisters had nearly healed over.
“It’s nothing,” Athan tried to dismiss. “Beothen’s told a few people about what happened, after I’d asked him not to.”
“He’s only told me,” Mikos argued, raising his heated gaze to meet Athan’s.
“Only you?” Athan questioned with a cross of his arms.
“Well...” Mikos backed down slightly. “Me, and the head priest, and...and the mayor. But, that’s out of duty, that is, not out of wanting to betray you, forester. All of us has since sworn to secrecy for her sake. We ain’t had a mageborne our way in years, registered with the Red Covenant or not. Maybe she can help.”
“Help?” Dnara asked Mikos, since Athan seemed reluctant to answer her straightly. “With what?”
Mikos wouldn’t look at her, and she’d seen that kind of bowed supplication before. It turned her stomach, but she didn’t know how to make him stop. His head dipped lower, but she saw the way his hand fisted, too. Supplication often brought with it resentment, same as she’d bowed her head to the mages at her keeper’s tower while privately cursing them.
“Mageraetas,” he said, quieter than before as another wagon pulled up within the gate’s gaping maw. “The mayor’s desperate, with his daughter ill, the beer and wine souring, and now the fires going out. Beothen only hoped... He meant no wrong to you, m’lady, I swear it.”
“I know,” she said, hoping to end his worry, then she turned her attention back to Athan. “Beothen’s asked for my help and you didn’t tell me?”
“You’re still healing,” he argued. “I didn’t...” He broke eye contact and looked to the side. “You could be hurt worse than last time.”
Taking a deep breath, she cooled her temper. He thought only to protect her from more harm, and it did explain why it seemed he’d been avoiding her the past few days. She’d thought it had been because she’d clung too closely to him. In a way, him hiding Beothen’s request from her came as a small relief. “I know you mean to protect me, but I’d like to help if I can.”
“Good on you,” Penna tutted from the back of the wagon. “Told you, I did,” she directed to Athan in a chiding tone. “Let that be the last of the secrets between you. Tobin and I will go on to the market square while you head up to the temple. Come by when you’re done.”
“Why don’t you come with us, Jenny?” Tobin said from the front of the wagon. “Could use your help in the market.”
“All right.” Jenny tipped her straw hat at Dnara then rode Rupert alongside the wagon. “What’s a market?” she asked as Tobin slapped the reins and his wagon lurched forward.
“Wow,” Mikos said as they departed. “Beothen said the woman’s mind had been muddled, but...” He cleared his throat, glanced at Dnara then lowered his gaze again. “I’m sure you had good reason for it, Mageraetas.”
“It was an accident,” she said, but doubted it made a difference. “And, I’m not a-” She looked to the large man sitting at his wagon, impatiently watching the three remaining people standing between him and the market. Tired of arguing whether she was a mageborne or not, she decided to simply go with it. “We’ll head to the temple. Thank you for relaying the message.”
“You’re welcome, m’lady.” Mikos bowed his head and stepped back before heading for the next wagon waiting to be inspected.
Sighing at his bow as he departed, Dnara began walking towards the street beyond the gate only to remember she didn’t know how to get to the temple. She’d never even been to a temple. She assumed it would be some grand building dedicated to the gods. Perhaps it wouldn’t be so hard to spot. As she took a hesitant step left out of the gate, a throat cleared behind
