A Pretty Path
My clothes were warm and dry, but would need mending soon.
My benefactors had even gone through the trouble of fetching my lost boot, now clean and dry, too. The maids brought up a comb, a pitcher of scalding water, and a basin. I took that as a firm suggestion and cleaned myself up, the sting of getting mud out of my scrapes and cuts better than any morning calisthenics.
I dressed myself gingerly and went downstairs, taking my satchel and bidding the cold little room goodbye. Miss Crosman was behind her desk, as usual, and I spotted the rest of my belongings spread out before her. She looked at me with no noticeable change of attitude from before, neither pity nor anger, and I found that comforting.
“This was in your boot.”
She stuck my knife point down into her desk and the heavy bone handle made it wobble.
“And these strewn about various bits of clothing.”
My silver coins slid across the surface toward me, followed by the pouch of gold. My chest tightened with guilt that she’d seen it, almost as though she’d immediately know it was stolen, and under what circumstances.
“You’ve a friend waiting outside. Been there for an hour. Said she needs your help. Go see her before people start to wonder what sort of trouble the two of you are bringing to my house.”
“Yes, Miss Crosman. I’m sor—”
“Go on, we’ve nothing to discuss here. It sounds like you have plenty on your hands at the moment.”
“Thank you, Miss Crosman. I’ll be on my way, then.”
“And none too soon. Take this as an opportunity to refresh your memory on how one is supposed to stay out of trouble when alone and friendless in foreign climes. We have enough trouble of our own.”
I hesitated. “Any troubles I might be able to help with?”
“No.”
She turned back to her letter, and for a moment I admired the large swooping motions of her blue-gray quill before humbly removing myself from her presence. Before Whisperwood, I thought I’d gotten used to living in unstable conditions, and adapted well to the strangeness of strangers.
No longer.
* * *
Outside, the air was crisp and smelled like fermenting apples. It was late morning, and the townsfolk milled about their business. I was pleased to recognize a friend sitting on the edge of the fountain, talking to one of the maestress’s young maids.
Perdy saw me approach and smiled her shy, green-eyed smile at me.
The maid whirled around to face me. “Good morrow, miss.”
“Good morrow, dear.”
Perdy took a coin out of her pocket and extended it toward the girl. “I was just telling Greta that I would like to ask her a very big favor.”
Greta took a deep breath and, grabbing hold of her apron with both hands, began to fuss over it and twist it every which way. Clearly, she was uncomfortable taking orders from anyone other than Miss Crosman, and given how the maestress terrified me, I could understand.
I nodded encouragement when she looked to me. “I’m sure it’s all right, dear. You can trust Perdy.”
Far from offended, Perdy only gazed at her softly, and the girl finally reached out and grabbed the silver coin.
“What am I to do, miss?”
“Please take that to the brewery. Ask Mara to give you one copper to keep for yourself, and use the rest to bring supplies. Food, ale, light. She’ll know where.”
The little girl nodded and disappeared like a fox behind a shrub, leaving no trace of ever having been there at all.
Perdy reached behind her and grabbed a satchel that had been lying on the warm stone lip of the fountain. “And this is for you, Anna. From all of us.”
I opened the brown canvas bag and found that it contained a large loaf of crusty bread, chunks of dry meat, chopped-up hard cheese, and a heavy jar of something that looked deliciously like ale. My stomach grumbled and tightened itself into a hard little ball, then swelled with love for the thoughtful gesture. I almost burst into tears when I spoke.
“Thank you.”
“I’m sorry for what you went through.”
“Does everyone know?”
She nodded, her eyes perhaps a shade wetter and sadder even than before.
I shook myself off. Now was not the time to break down. “Is there something I can do to be helpful?”
She nodded again. “Walk with me? Please?”
I liked her thriftiness with words, not first but still high on the list of the many things that made me want to be close to her.
Perdy studied me closely too, as we made our way down the main road, side by side, quietly. She skipped and kicked stones like a child, and I couldn’t help but smile. Eventually, as we neared the crossroads, she spoke.
“I need your help and thought maybe you’d not mind the distraction.”
“Mmhm.”
“You might understand. Most people in town cling to their families, but I found myself no longer able to tolerate my living conditions. My aunts are well intended, but….”
I doubted there was a soul in the world who could understand her better. “Say no more. You don’t need to explain. If you need to live away from them, then that’s that. Have you a place in mind?”
It took her a moment to answer, and I felt like the subject weighed on her.
“There’s a house. I know where it is, and I have the key. My aunts are going to be livid, but it’s mine by law.”
“That’s wonderful.”
She leaned her head to one side for a moment and raised her shoulders. “But it’s likely broken-down and a mess. I don’t even know what to expect.”
I smiled. “I can think of nothing I’d like more than to fix something and clean something. Make something better. You’re doing me a real favor here.”
She smiled back, and I could tell relief washed over her. Then, with a cheerful hop, she took the willow road I’d been on the night before.
That road.
A shudder started at the nape of my neck and traveled languidly down my spine. Looking at that road wasn’t easy and walking down it felt impossible. I tried lifting my feet, but they were stuck to a ground made of molasses. Perdy saw, and offered me her elbow. That was it, no words, but I felt comforted. She had a gift, that girl.
I took it and we meandered like we had nowhere in the world to be. I vividly remembered going down that road yesterday, but nothing about coming back up it. Come to think of it, I wasn’t even sure if I did come back through there, or by some circuitous route.
Perdy’s gaze interrupted my train of thought.
I suddenly felt embarrassed. “I’m sorry.”
“No, you’re mourning. It’s not a bad thing.”
We walked along quietly for a while. The willows swayed above us, and with each step my fear faded, and I regained control. Little specks of sunlight played on our faces, dotting warmth on my skin through the brisk late autumn air and dancing bright sparks through Perdy’s dark red hair.
Soon, where the road carried on vaguely rightward toward the chapel, we made a left into a small country lane I’d never noticed before. A grove of tall apple trees hid the main road from view and my shoulders drooped down, un-bunching from where they had been knotted behind my ears.
Perdy saw me loosen up and let go of my elbow. “I’m here whenever you need me.”
“You’re very good at this.”
“I don’t know. I just like people.”
“I do know. I was trained as a healer when I was barely sixteen. Then war broke, and the need for field nurses was great, so there I was. You’d have been right at home with us.”
She studied me with great interest. I thought for sure she’d ask me more about medicine and whether she’d be suited for that sort of job, but she surprised me. “So there are still wars? And warriors, like in stories?”
“Not at all like in stories, but yes. There are.”
She walked on, quietly chewing her lip. I almost giggled at the thought of this small creature swinging a sword, but she was grave, and I felt like a shadow flitted across her gaze, so I tried another subject.
“What’s this house like, then? How much work are we in for?”
“I’ve never actually seen it. It belonged to my parents.”
“Oh! I had no idea.”
“Only the older people in town remember it at all, and not even all of those. Nobody’s lived there in over twenty years.”
“You can’t be much older than that yourself.”
“I was a baby when it happened.” Her tone was low and slow.
I pressed her no further. It would only make her shut down. Instead, we walked and breathed and admired the apple trees. I darted into the grove and filled my food sack the rest of the way with beautiful late-season apples. They were crisp, and the skin passed through every shade from bright red to violent green on one fruit, and I knew them to be good for cooking and keeping through the winter.
When I emerged again, Perdy seemed ready to tell me more.
“Do you know what my name means?” Her voice had a clever little lilt that blended right in with the chirping birds around us.
“It means ‘lost’.”
She smiled. “My parents and I were lost in the woods. I’d been born only a few days before, and there hadn’t been time to baptize me. And if my mother told anyone what she intended to call me, they forgot by the time I came back out, years later. So, the townsfolk called me Pierduta, and my aunts took me in. Swore never to let me come back to this house, or go back to the woods, or do anything…of the things we can do.”
I stared at the beautiful girl, taken aback by her revelation and what was surely the longest speech she’d given all year. I was still debating whether to press her further when we came within sight of a little shack. I wouldn’t even have noticed it, as covered in ivy as it was, but Perdy stopped and looked mournfully at its green outline.
“I wish I felt more when looking at this place. A sense of belonging. Something.”
“What do you feel?”
“Like somewhere there’s another me, living this other life I never got to have. And I hate her for having all those options open to her that I don’t have.”
I didn’t know what I could possibly say to comfort her, so I squeezed her hand.
“Anna, I hope you can forgive me.”
“What for?”
“For using you like this.”
“Using me?”
“It’s not just about the cleaning. I’d hoped I might convince you to stay with me for a while. I don’t think I have the stomach to do this alone, and Mara has so much….”
I didn’t know what to say. Of course, I wanted to help her, and being away from Miss Crosman would do me good. But to impose on Perdy like that? I couldn’t help but feel she only asked me for my own benefit.
I grinned as widely as I could. “Let’s see what state the house is in, before we get too excited?”
Her smile was genuine and enchanting. We giggled like schoolgirls and broke into a run, racing one another the rest of the way to the front door. We arrived in a cloud of dust and merriment, but as it settled down to the ground, we both fell quiet.