“Maybe I should try talking to her.”
I gripped his arm, holding him in place before he charged up the stairs. “Let her sleep. Maybe after the mordid’s effects wear off, she’ll be more willing to listen.”
“When the mordid wears off, she’ll just ask for more.”
“We won’t give her any.”
“It doesn’t work like that. If withdrawal is too sudden, it could kill her. She’s too weak to fight the sickness.”
“Can she be weaned off?” Niffin asked. “I know something that might help.”
“I’m not a mordid expert. I only know what I’ve seen it do to others.” Brahm grimaced. “What are you going to do with her, Evie?”
“I want to help her.”
His mouth puckered. “I’m not sure that’s possible.”
“I might know a way.” Niffin peered at his feet.
“What do you need?” I asked.
“Brigette is an apothecary, correct?” Niffin glanced up, meeting my eyes. “She might have the ingredients in her shop.”
“My carriage will take you,” Brahm said.
Niffin kissed Malita’s cheek. “I will return as soon as I can.”
Leaving Niffin to make arrangements with Brahm, I tugged Malita’s sleeve, encouraging her to follow me outside into the afternoon heat. Summer was coming to an end—I smelled autumn in the breeze stirring the fine hairs at my neck and temples. Malita and I strolled the grounds of the Schulzes’ large estate, admiring the gardens and lawns, but my attention drifted to the stables whenever they were in sight.
Gerda used to tell me ghost stories when I was younger, and the spirits in those tales never appeared in daylight or in direct view. They preferred to come out at night, darting through shadows at the corner of one’s eye. Gideon’s father was rather like those ghosts, and I wondered if he’d ever let me see him.
“Brigette will say yes to you,” Malita said. “When she does, then we will go to the Council, yes?”
“Yes.”
“But where do we find them?”
Catching sight of a pond, I tugged Malita’s sleeve again, leading her across a sloping lawn of trimmed grass. “I’m hoping Brigette will know the answer to that.”
Swans glided across the pond, their long necks bent in graceful arcs. Like creatures from a dream, their white feathers glowed in the sunlight. “I wish I’d brought something to feed them.”
Malita glanced at the birds, her brow furrowing. “What do they eat?”
“Probably minnows and frogs. But I’m sure they’d be happy with a few breadcrumbs.”
“We have many birds in Chagda, but none as... fahariya.” She rubbed her chin, thinking. “As proud as those.” She flicked her fingers at the swans and wrinkled her nose. “My favorite is the laughing dove. It is small and plain and brown, but its call sounds like....” She closed her eyes and made a high-pitched chuckling sound. “It is the sound I think of when I think of home.”
We paused in the shade beneath the draping branches of a huge willow. I squeezed her shoulder. “I hope you can go home soon. I know you miss it.”
She smiled sadly. “Not more than you miss yours, and I do not have to fight Magicians when I get there.”
“If you weren’t here with me, if you were still at home, what do you think you would be doing?”
“Father expected me to tend to our goats.” She stuck out her tongue and crossed her eyes, and I laughed.
“I take it you don’t care for goats.”
“I wanted to...” She flexed her fingers as if gripping tools. “Create things. Build things. Our village made plans to build a new water system. I wanted to help.”
Malita and I strolled the perimeter of the pond and talked about our respective homes, describing our old routines and the people we missed most. By the time we returned to the house, the sun had dipped toward the tree line, casting long shadows and muting colors.
Hannah greeted us in the foyer, arms crossed over her chest. Her blond hair ringed her head like a braided crown, and the azure beads in her ears matched the pattern in her day dress. “You two seem to be enjoying yourselves.”
“We are.” I tightened my grip on Malita’s arm. “You have a lovely home.”
“Of course I do. My brother and I work hard to keep it that way.”
“We thank you for sharing it with us.” I curtsied. Malita pulled my elbow, leading us toward the stairs.
“I’ve invited Brigette to dine with us this evening.”
I paused, one foot on the first step. “Oh?”
“It’ll be an ideal opportunity for you to approach her again.”
Brahm had likely shared his intelligence about Brigette with his sister, and I couldn’t blame him. Family loyalty was a sacred thing. “I’ll try my best to convince her, but she won’t be manipulated.”
“She will if you do it right.”
