Page 35 of Anwen of Primewood (The Eldentimber #2)

Galinor sits. “Can the creature undo the curse?”

Ergmin studies us, his brows knitting. “Perhaps if he were unbound…”

I shake my head. Who knows what trouble the thing would cause if it were free again.

Ergmin thinks for a moment and then looks at the table. “I might be able to undo it.” He stoops to pick the broken pieces of earthen bowl off the floor.

“Really?” I almost don’t believe what he’s just said. “Will you?”

“I’ll need a few things. If you bring them to me, the curse will be lifted when you return.” He gives me a long look. His eyes are on me, but they seem far away. They come back to focus, and he nods. “Yes.”

“Thank you, Ergmin. Truly—thank you.”

“I’ll write a list.” He stands, chooses a quill and parchment, and then sits back at the table and begins scribbling.

I read it once he hands it to me. “ Five kember carrots, one loin of iktar beast, two field potatoes, one bunch of fresh pansley—finely minced, and three stalks of water root. Add salt to taste. ” I hold the list out. “This looks like a soup recipe.”

Ergmin smiles. “Actually, it’s a stew.”

I frown and look at the list again. “You want us to collect the ingredients for your stew, and then you’ll undo my father’s curse?”

“You bring me these things, and your father’s curse will be over.” He sighs. “I haven’t had this recipe in years. My mother used to make it.”

My eye twitches, but I know it’s not wise to argue with magical beings. If he wants his stew, fine. We’ll make it for him.

I take a deep breath. “You’ve known about Father’s condition for over twenty years. Why haven’t you worked the counter curse before now?”

Ergmin lights his pipe again and takes a long puff. “The time was never right.”

Galinor and I leave the cottage. I’m still humming with frustration, and Galinor seems just as agitated.

As we walk back to the manor, he plucks the list from my hands. He scowls at the parchment. “What’s an iktar beast?”

“I have no idea. I’ve never heard of it.”

“There are probably field potatoes in your kitchen,” he says. “But a kember carrot?”

I shake my head.

“Pansley?”

I sigh. “It sounds familiar, but again—I don’t know. You’ve already seen the extent of my culinary knowledge.”

Galinor looks like he’s going to crumple the list in his hands.

“What’s the matter?” I ask.

His handsome face contorts into a grimace. “It’s another scavenger hunt. ”

“It’s not a scavenger hunt.” I tug the list away from him before he can crush it. “It’s a grocer’s list.”

A flock of geese flies overhead, calling in the air as they wing their way across the sky. Despite the bright autumn sunshine, the day won’t be a warm one. The brush under the pines has turned yellow, and soon the leaves will fall and leave the slender twigs bare.

“You don’t have to go with me,” I say quietly. “You’ve already helped so much.”

Galinor stops and gives me an incredulous look. “You think I would let you go alone?”

I watch him from the corner of my eye. “Probably not.”

He snatches the list back again. “Where do we start?”

“We’ll go to King Windom’s herbalist,” I say, examining the list in his hands. “He will know where to find all this.”

“How far away is the castle?”

“Less than a day’s ride.”

We reach the manor, and this time I enter without knocking. The hall is warm, but the atmosphere is hushed. Today, it feels like a cursed home. Has it always been like this? Or am I only noticing it now that I know?

No, I don’t think so. The changeling stone chased away the sadness—or cloaked it, at the very least.

“Mother?” I call as we wander the halls, looking for her.

We finally find her asleep on a bench near the fire in her sitting room, her embroidery forgotten on her lap. She’s pale and looks as if she needs the rest. I hate to disturb her, but I don’t have a choice. I shake her, and even though I’m gentle, she wakes with a start.

“Anwen.” She sits up, blinking. “Did you find him?”

I tell her about our morning spent at the cottage, and when I finish, she asks to see the list. Her eyebrows knit as she reads. “Where will you find all this?”

I take back the list. “I have to go to Dontel. If anyone will know, it’s him.”

She nods, but her eyes are troubled. “You can’t leave now. Your father couldn’t bear to lose you again.”

My eyes flicker to Galinor’s, guilt heavy in my heart. He takes my hand.

“I must save him if I can,” I say to Mother. “You understand that, don’t you?”

“Of course I do. This is exactly what Ergmin said you are to do?” Her eyes search mine, and then she looks away, taking a shaky breath. “Yes, you must go.”

I stare at the list in my hands. It will kill Father if I leave, but it will kill me to watch him suffer.

I hug Mother tight. “I promise I will fix this.”

“Promise you’ll come back.” She catches hold of me before I leave. With tears in her eyes, she brushes a few stray hairs away from my face. “Know how much I love you. Never doubt it.”

She clutches me as if she can’t bear to let me go—it feels like a final goodbye. I hate that she doesn’t trust I will return. I give her one last squeeze and then let her go.

It’s midday when we leave the manor. Danver sits on my lap and Pika follows behind. I try to tell the glasseln to stay, but like always, it’s no use.

Thankfully, she and Danver hang back when we reach the king’s city.

The castle feels empty without Irving and Marigold. I’m greeted by several people, but in a way, I feel like an intruder.

I knock on the herbalist’s door, and the door swings open almost immediately. On the other side stands Dontel, an older man with graying hair and kind eyes.

“Anwen!” He ushers us inside. “Have Irving and Marigold returned? I haven’t seen them.”

“They’re in Glendon,” I answer, pulling the parchment from my satchel. “But I’m hoping you can tell me where to find all this.”

Dontel scratches his chin as he reads over the list. “Hmmm.”

I’m impatient to leave even though we’ve only just arrived. “Well?”

“Kember carrots are simply wild carrots—they grow almost everywhere. Field potatoes can be obtained in any market. Water root grows in freshwater stream banks—it’s more abundant in the northern regions, however.” He looks down at the list again. “I have dried pansley, but none fresh.”

I sigh. The room is hot from the fire, and it smells like herbs and beeswax. Several concoctions cool on the bench. I wonder how Dontel can stand the smell. Perhaps you don’t notice when you’re in it all day .

“I think it will need to be exactly as it is on the list,” I say.

Dontel nods. “It’s native to Coppel. You may be able to find it there, though it’s already late in the season.”

“What about the iktar beast?” Galinor asks.

Dontel frowns. “You’ll only find them up north, in Errinton.”

I cringe. Of course Ergmin would send us for something that can only be found in the rockiest, coldest, most desolate of the known kingdoms.

The herbalist frowns at the list before he gives it back. “I’m sorry I can’t be of more help.”

“You were helpful,” I assure him.

“We’ll go to Coppel first,” Galinor says. “And we’ll look for the other ingredients on the way.”

Dontel wishes us luck, and we leave his quarters. Almost to the main gates, we are stopped by Marigold’s maid, Maria.

“Lady Anwen!” she declares, rushing forward. “Have you heard from Marigold? She has been gone so long.”

I smile at the girl. “She is well, and I believe she will return soon.”

Maria’s eyes drift to Galinor—as all female’s eyes seem to do.

She lowers her lashes and gives him a curtsy. “Forgive my forwardness, My Lord.”

I try not to roll my eyes.

He gives her nothing more than a polite smile. “There is nothing to forgive.”

Disappointment flashes over Maria’s face, but then she excuses herself .

When the hall is empty, I turn toward Galinor. “Is this how it is? Do women trip over themselves just to speak with you?” My voice is testy though I mean it to be teasing. I bite my lip, wishing I’d kept my mouth shut.

He smirks. “Jealous?”

I give him a playful slap on his chest. “No.” I try to laugh, but it comes out high pitched and not very convincing.

He leans close. “You know what the most outrageous attempt for my attention has been?”

I shake my head, pretending to be aloof, and try not to think of how close his lips are to my ear.

“There was a girl in Lauramore who dumped an entire tray of cider over me just so I would notice her.”

My eyes go wide, and I laugh at the insinuation. “I did not!”

“No?” he asks. “Because I like that story.”

I stand with my mouth hanging open, gaping at him.

He laughs and sets his hand on the small of my back, leading me down the hall. “Well, Your Ladyship. Shall we ride to Coppel?”