Page 61 of The Verdant Cage
But I’m not here for them. I’ve come to see the well.
A cluster of children’s footprints surround it. It’s rained several times since the quarantine, so these must belong to Finn, a boy who’d simply craved the taste of his favorite water.
Water that’s certainly toxic.
I duck into the abandoned Glassworker cottage and find a small bottle. Hoping my theory is correct, that I’m only in danger if I drink the water, I walk to the well and scoop out a bit, stoppering the bottle.
I pop the sample into my satchel and am turning to leave when I notice a second set of footprints around the backside of the well, these adult-sized but peculiar. One is a regular footprint, but the other drags, as if the walker was wearing something unwieldy on their foot…like a cast.
David.
Was he here chasing the same terrible hunch? I add that to my growing list of questions for the Record Keeper. If David suspects—like I do—that Jarek’s been poisoning us in addition to colluding with a killer, maybe he can help me uncover why. And maybe this time, he’ll stop looking away andfinallytake a stand.
That’s what I’m thinking when a shadow slices across my path.
37
Gryphon strides toward me, his Guardian uniform impeccable as always, his face dark with anger. His hand rests on the hilt of his sword. “What in the Wall are you doing here?” he demands.
“A child is dead,” I say. “Another victim of the Vex. Or so it appears.” For all I know, Gryphon is in on his father’s grand plan, as much as it sickens me to think it. Hedidknow about his father’s strange weapon and presumably the resource hoarding, too.
His expression shifts minutely—surprise, followed by concern. “You shouldn’t be here,” he says, softer now but no less insistent. “It’s not safe.”
“I need to—”
“You need to do as you’re told,” he interrupts, stepping closer. Too close. I can smell the leather of his uniform, the metal polish on his sword. “You can’t wander in forbidden areas, Rose. You’ll be punished.”
His bossiness ignites my temper. “Since when is my safety your concern, Guardian? Your duty is to your father, not to me.”
Something flickers across his face—hurt, probably—before his expression hardens again. I grimace, realizing my words came out harsher than intended, but Gryphon needs to learn he can’t order me around forever.
“Let’s go,” he says, reaching for me. “We’ll get something to eat on the way to the training grounds. Remember your orders for the day.”
I pull away. I’ve got to talk to David and get this water sample to Reatha and do the thing that feels most important of all: find out what my mother knew. V-E-X, she’d hidden in her journal, and now I have an idea why. Maybe that inkling can help me decode the rest.
“Not until I stop by the Apothecary cottage,” I counter. “I have to check something.”
“Rose—”
You catch more flies with honey, Gran has always said. “Just for a minute. Please.”
“Fine,” he relents, his voice gruff. “But I’m coming with you.”
We walk in tense silence, and I can’t help but wonder about Gryphon’s sudden overprotectiveness. We were friends once, of course, but this feels different.He’s keeping something from me. I’m sure of it. Well, he can join the rest on that front. This whole village is a spitting nest of secrets, I’m discovering.
“Wait here,” I tell Gryphon outside the Apothecary cottage.
He follows me through the back door anyway. I make an exasperated noise. At least Uncle Richard is gone, likely summoned by the Council of Elders to explain Finn’s death. Good. I don’t need him questioning what I’m about to do.
“What are you looking for?” Gryphon asks as I move purposefully toward the storage closet.
I ignore him, pulling open the heavy wooden door to reveal shelves stacked with herbs, tinctures, and medicinal supplies. My mother’s dedicated shelf is untouched. I ignore the dried roots and glass jars to slide open her drawer.
Charcoal.
Packets of it. More than any normal Apothecary would need.
“I knew it,” I whisper.
