The skin was fibrous and peppery. I peeled it away in a layer and ate it before I went on to the shiny inside of it. My fingers left muddy prints. No matter. I finished it and then stood tall, looking for what I wanted to devour next. I wiped my mouth on the back of my hand. My lips left a mucky smear. I frowned at it, trying to recall something.
And in that moment, Nevare the soldier son came to the fore again. I scrabbled backward from the now thriving vegetable garden into the dank weeds that ringed it. Despite the haphazard placement of the plants, it looked as if someone had tended it, watering and weeding it, and now, at full peak, it awaited harvest. I had been the center of the circle of tended earth. Heart pounding, I stepped away from the garden and back into the real world. Almost, I expected it to have vanished when I glanced back, but no, it remained, as real as the misting rain falling all around me.
I fled. I brought in both horses that I had picketed for the night, for neither had wanted to enter the shed with the hanging deer in it. Feverishly, I readied everything for our journey. I moved like a hunted man, darting in and out of the cabin with my arms full of Hitch’s gear and my own. I went to the hanging deer and peeled back enough hide to cut strips of journey meat for Hitch and me, packing as much as my cooking pot would hold.
When all else was loaded on the two animals, I went and tapped on Amzil’s door. She opened it, her hair still tousled from sleep. “Is something wrong?” she asked me anxiously. I suppose my shock at the proof of my magic still showed in my face.
“No,” I lied. “I just have to make an early start to use the daylight as best we may. I’ve come to ask if I can take some of the smoked meat away with me. I took some of the venison already, but I left all the rest of it for you.”
“Of course,” she said distantly. She turned from me, and I left her door to go back to the other cottage and awaken Hitch.
He jerked awake at my touch, and then slowly sat up, shivering. “Is it time to go?” he asked me miserably, knowing full well it was.
“Yes. If we leave now, we can put a good distance behind us. How far do you think it is to Gettys from here?”
He knew I did not mean in miles. “If it were just Renegade and I, and I were myself, we could cover it in four days. But that isn’t the case, is it?”
“No. But I think we’ll still make good time.” I tried to be reassuring. The cockiness the man had exhibited yesterday was gone. I wondered if it were because the infection was gaining on him, or if he could simply let his guard down now, knowing there was someone to offer him aid.
“Well, then. Let’s go.” He wobbled to his feet and walked the few steps to the hearth. He leaned there, taking in the fire’s warmth, while I packed the few items that remained. When it was time to leave, I avoided the garden patch. He leaned on his horse for a few moments before he mounted, but he did that on his own. “I’ll just be a moment,” I told him, and turned to go back to Amzil’s cabin for the meat she’d said we could have. But as I looked up, she was coming toward me. She chose to walk down the road in front of the houses. I breathed a sigh of relief. She wouldn’t yet have seen the change in the garden. I didn’t want to answer any questions. She carried a canvas sack in her arms. As I took it from her, she said, “You’ve got two rabbits in there.”
“Thank you. That should get us there.”
“And you’ve got my best sack.”
I frantically racked my brains for something else I could put the rabbits in. They’d have to be packed loose in my panniers. But when I started to open the bag, she said quietly, “No. You can use it. But I expect to get it back.”
“I’ll make sure you do.” I was a bit startled by her demand.
“I’ll hold you to that,” she said. She was standing very straight. She looked almost angry. I didn’t know what to say to her. She had very few possessions. To trust me with this simple sack was evidently difficult for her.
“Good-bye, Amzil. Tell the children I said good-bye.”
“I will.” She kept looking at me, as if she were waiting for something.
“Will you be all right on your own?”
Then the anger did glint plain in her eyes. “I’ve been so before. Why wouldn’t I be again?” she asked me tartly. She turned away from us and walked back toward her house.
I wanted to just let her go, but I also wanted to be sure that she was the one who had the advantage of what I had done that morning. “Harvest those vegetables as soon as you can,” I called after her. “Before someone else discovers them and takes them.” She didn’t turn. “Good-bye,” I said more quietly.