Chapter 2

Cara Cantrell felt sweat under her arms. She couldn’t let the Preserver of Rites find out about the Midnight Apothecary Shop, but it looked like they were going to pass by. She relaxed her grip on the wooden floorboards.

Indeed, as she watched out the window, the woman with short brown hair swung up onto her mount and looked to the Preserver of Rites, who nodded and urged her own horse forward. She felt her body relax a little.

Then, just as the other woman turned to motion the protectors behind her to follow, the door swung open, and Sharl was standing in the opening. The robe he wore hung down nearly to his knees, even on his tall, thin frame. Behind Sharl, light leaked through the doorway.

“Cara?”

She watched through the window as the brown-haired woman turned in her saddle and squinted at the window.

“Shit.”

She turned to the man who had come to her door seeking sanctuary from some unknown threat. The stranger had blond hair cut shaggy around his face and falling just to the back of his neck and a short, blond beard. He wore traveling clothes, but they looked new—hardly dirty at all. The clothes were still so stiff she could hardly make out his build beneath them, though by his face, the man looked fairly young, maybe twenty, and he appeared to be trim. Briefly, she wished he had come here for her remedies. She’d have liked to see where his secret desires laid.

Most noteworthy about the stranger right now, however, was that he also stared at the woman outside the window. Now she knew. This man had the Arcani after him, and this night was turning into a nightmare. To the stranger, she mouthed the words, Stay still.

She held up a hand to Sharl and stood. After she crossed from the corner to the doorway where Sharl stood, she shouted across the room, toward the main door.

“A moment, please.”

She curled a finger at Sharl, beckoning, and he leaned down closer to her height. When Sharl was nearer, she whispered to him.

“Get the wanderer to the back.” She grabbed the collar of Sharl’s robe, making sure she had his attention. “Unseen.“

Sharl nodded, the long, fine hair hanging down in his face. Then she turned and stomped toward the counter, making sure her steps were as loud as possible. She called toward the door again.

“A moment. I’m getting the lantern.”

As she lit the flame, she heard the door behind her snikt closed. That meant Sharl and the wanderer were in the back. She took in a breath and walked toward the door at the front, holding the robe closed in front of her. She pulled the key from her pocket, unlocked the door, and turned the knob, pulling it open. Then she poked her head out into the night for the second time tonight.

This time, she looked up directly at the Preserver of Rites. The woman was tall with long blond hair and a serious face.

“I’m afraid the shop is closed in the evening. You’ll have to come back during the day.” She looked the Preserver of Rites up and down, making a show of taking in her religious cloak. “Rites Keeper.”

Though it wouldn’t have seemed possible, Preserver Falis stiffened further.

“I am the Preserver of Rites.”

“Apologies. I didn’t know.”

Preserver Falis nearly choked on her words as she bent down toward Cara’s face. “You didn’t—know?”

She shrugged. “I’m newly apprenticed here.”

“Then you should tell your master to train you properly—with respect for the order.” The Preserver of Rites straightened up again, as though her body locked itself in place on a hinge. “Never mind that now. I’m looking for someone. A man.” Preserver Falis held herself stiffly upright and looked down at her. “Have you seen anyone pass through?”

“Tonight? No.”

The Preserver of Rites glanced over her head, into the shop, now dimly lit by the lantern.

“I’ll come in and look around.”

She pressed her lips together, and her heart turned into a caged finch in her chest. No, this night was not going as she had planned. “As you wish.”

As she started to draw the door open, a familiar, thin voice called over to her. “Cara? What’s going on here?” She held the door, still only cracked, and let out a calm breath.

Erling Roper, the apothecary shop’s actual owner, trotted up to them. Erling was an older man with hair that had gone gray with streaks of white and receded inward from his temples. He had a mustache that matched the hair, white streaks and all. Erling was somewhat short for a human male but still taller than she, and thin with a bit of a potbelly.

The daytime apothecary looked from her face in the doorway to the tall, blond, unmistakable figure standing on the porch. His eyes widened briefly as they met hers. Then Erling addressed himself to the Preserver of Rites.

“Preserver Falis. What an honor to have you at our shop. Is all well with you?”

“I don’t require anything from your shop, if that’s what you mean.”

“Well, I’m sure you didn’t come to enjoy my pleasant company.” Erling laughed, a high-pitched, wheeze of a sound. Most people found Erling’s laugh friendly and disarming.

Falis, however, did not seem to think so. The Preserver of Rites did not return his laughter. In fact, Falis sneered down her nose at Erling. That pissed her off. She was the only person immune to Erling’s ridiculous laughter, and she didn’t appreciate someone else treating him that way.

“I’m looking for a man who may have come through here.”

“Do you suspect he was in need of a remedy?”

“No. I suspect he was looking for a hideout.”

Erling’s eyes looked hurt. “And you think I’m hiding a fugitive in my shop?”

“There was a light within, and we heard a sound.”

Erling gestured to her, still standing within the half-open doorway. “Clearly, it was my apprentice.”

Falis turned toward her, eyes narrowed. “And what were you doing in the shop so late?”

She narrowed her own eyes. This woman clearly thought her younger than she was. She got that a lot from humans because of her size, and she didn’t like it. She opened her mouth to speak, but Erling interjected.

“She was fetching me the dandelion root. That’s why I came out here—to check what was keeping her.” Erling turned toward her. “Speaking of which, did you find it?”

“I’m sorry. I suppose I’ll have to go out and dig up some more tomorrow.” She gritted her teeth, and once she realized she was doing it, tried to turn the expression into a contrite smile.

Falis looked down at her, and she swore the Preserver’s sneer grew. Maybe it was the only kind of face the spiritual woman knew how to make.