Chapter 41: A Strange Visitor

Sharmon trudged wearily up the stairs of the inn waving good night to the regulars. They had been staying at the inn for just over a week now, and would continue to stay until Cinnamon was better. So far, Cinnamon's fever had not broken, nor had she awakened, but she continued to nurse regularly. Sharmon knew it would only be a matter of time before her daughter woke up. She was slightly worried about how Cinnamon would react to the news, but hoped that their relationship would be ok.

To cover their stay until Cinnamon was well enough to travel, their group had taken odd jobs to cover the cost of their rooms. Lancos had traded most of their supply of fruits, keeping some for themselves, in exchange for the cost of Cinnamon's stay and her supplies, but the rest of them still had a debt to work off. Fortunately, Rose was giving it to them at cost, without her usual markups.

Lancos and Ernon helped out in the stables. When the weather was nice, they'd go hunting. Harnley worked in the smithy, and was enjoying teaching Milly about blacksmithing. Vanessa worked as a waitress. She shared her tips, so the others weren't too offended. The other waitresses also knew they were staying because of Cinnamon, so they didn't mind it as much as they normally might have. In fact, they appreciated the help. When word got out that a priestess was staying at the inn, many of the nearby locals came to her for healing and blessings. Muriel, of course, was all too happy to help. She commandeered a corner table and set up shop there with Rose's blessing. Rose was quite happy about it, since those there to see Muriel would have a pint or two, or a meal, before or after seeing her. Some even stayed overnight, giving the inn a boost in business.

Sharmon occasionally worked as a cobbler, and in the kitchen, when she wasn't taking care of Cinnamon. She'd just finished her work for the day and was looking forward to seeing Cinnamon. Despite the fact that Cinnamon was still with fever and had yet to wake up, she was steadily improving.

Sharmon sighed, quietly entered their room and shut the door behind her. She turned to greet Cinnamon and froze. Sitting in the chair next to the bed, and with a hand stroking Cinnamon's face, was a ghost. Sharmon immediately went for her sword. "Foul creature, unhand my daughter!"

The ghost looked at her and put a finger to her lips. "Shh! You'll wake her," She whispered.

Sharmon blinked in surprise. The ghost looked at her and smiled. Speaking softly, she said, "Peace, Sister, I mean our daughter no harm."

Sharmon was stunned. Birth mothers and ritual mothers often referred to each other as sister. The use of the name 'sister' when the spirit addressed her, along with 'our daughter' meant only one thing.

"You're Cinnamon's mother?"

The spirit smiled, nodded, and turned back to Cinnamon.

"Why doesn't she remember you?"

The spirit sighed. "I'm afraid my death was too painful for her, and her mind blocked the memory of me to spare her further pain." She leaned over and kissed Cinnamon. "I'm so sorry, Sweetheart."

"So the woman she remembers is really her stepmother?"

"Yes, my poor darling husband saw our baby was so lost in grief that he married the first woman to show an interest. He wishes he'd waited now, but Cinnamon did need a mother, even if it was a bad one."

"Why are you here?"

She smiled as she stood. "I'm always been with my baby, but things are different here, and I couldn't resist touching her again. Sharmon, thank you for taking care of Cinnamon. The others deserve my thanks as well, but you deserve it most of all as you risked more."

Sharmon shook her head. "I risked more if I didn't."

The spirit smiled and then, after glancing at Cinnamon, turned back to Sharmon with a sad look on her face. "Sister, please continue to look after our daughter. She has many trials ahead, and she will need your strength and love."

"She will have all I possess, and more," Sharmon vowed.

Cinnamon's mother smiled and then sighed. "I have to go now." She turned to Cinnamon and leaned over to kiss her forehead. "Goodnight my darling, I love you." She straightened up, wiping a tear from her eye as she did so, and then walked over to Sharmon. She reached out and took Sharmon's hand. Sharmon tried not to shiver at the ghostly contact. "Thank you for loving my baby." Then she leaned in and whispered, "Moira sends her love and says to be happy." Sharmon gasped and, with that, the spirit of Cinnamon's mother kissed Sharmon's cheek and faded away.

Stunned, Sharmon stumbled into the chair the spirit had vacated. She reached over, took Cinnamon's hand, and began to cry.

Sometime during the night Cinnamon's fever, at long last, broke.