Page 13 of Black Hearted
I racked my brain, trying to recall the towns I’d seen on the map before it was destroyed.
Evander nodded, seemingly satisfied with my answer. “Buttercup Village is coming up. It’s just across the border. The second biggest town in Spring Court. Plenty of healers there, if you’ve got the coin for them. I certainly don’t.”
Coin. Right.
“I’ll figure that out,” I told him.
I was more of a “figure it out as I go” type of person. There was no sense in worrying about something I didn’t have. Maybe I could convince the healer to help by offering a trade of some sort.
Evander glanced at me and then at his wife, who was now sleeping in the wheelbarrow, her chest rattling with each labored breath.
“You’d do that? For us?” Evander asked, his voice heavy with disbelief.
I was taken aback by his question. I would have wanted to help them anyway, but after the kindness they had already shown us, I certainly wouldn’t let his wife die over a lack of coin.
“Of course. You helped us, and now I’m going to make sure you’re both taken care of.”
I just hoped Lorelei could hang on a little longer.
When we reached Buttercup Village, I was taken aback by its beauty. Gone were the dust and oil-covered rocks. This area of Faerie was thriving, and I’d never seen so many beautiful flowers in my life. The entire road into the city was lined with thick, bluish-purple lavender bushes, their scent alone making me sigh in contentment. Each house within the white stone gates of the town was painted a pastel color. Fae of all ages ran to and fro, dressed in bright dresses and suits—even the men. A man tipped a light green top hat to me as we walked.
“It’s like a dream,” Nellie said, her eyes wide. “And I’ll bet they have a sweets shop.”
Right. I’d need coin for that, too.
I glanced down at Elida, still asleep in front of me, and felt a pang of worry. The purple hue of her lips had darkened.
“Excuse me, milady,” I said, stopping a redheaded fae wearing a vibrant green dress. “Where is your most talented healer?”
She glanced at Elida in the wheelbarrow and then at Evander, her expression softening. “The best in the village is Percival Pennyweather.”
She pointed toward the end of the lane where a bright blue shop bore the signHealer. Then she hesitated, scanning our dust-covered secondhand clothes. “But the cheapest is Kelsie. She’s in the hot-pink-and-white-striped house across from the sweets shop.”
It was a veiled insult, but she meant well, I knew.
“Thank you.” I tipped my head to her and started toward Percival Pennyweather’s shop.
Evander grabbed my arm, stopping me. “Hang on. Should we try Kelsie first?”
I glanced at Elida and was almost certain she wasn’t merely asleep but had lost consciousness. “If it were my wife, I’d want the best.”
Evander rubbed a hand over his mouth but nodded. If we tried Kelsie and failed, I’d never forgive myself.
As we walked through the busy lane, I was dismayed to see a long line of fae stretching from the healer’s front door all the way around the corner. Some clutched broken arms; others were bleeding or leaning on loved ones. This would take all day. I maneuvered Elida to the end of the line and told Evander to stay with her.
Nellie remained at my side as I bypassed the line and stepped up to the healer’s door.
“Hey, no cutting,” someone spat from the line.
“I’m only asking a question about price,” I assured the male fae, who was holding a sickly looking child.
He grunted but said nothing, so I stepped inside. A bell chimed overhead as I glanced around the warm space. To the right was a waiting area of six hollowed-out logs, and a desk stood in front of me, manned by a stern-looking fae in a green apron and a blue bonnet. Above her, hundreds of potted flowers hung from the glass ceiling. The place smelled earthy and wonderfully fragrant. Behind the woman, a brightly painted hallway led to rooms where more helpers, dressed similarly, bustled about.
“Checking in? Payment upfront. Give me your name, and I’ll put you on the list,” the stern fae said without looking up from her parchment.
“I’m just inquiring about price,” I explained. “We’re at the back of the line, and my friend is gravely ill.”
She glanced up, glaring at me. “So is everyone who comes here. But Percy is the best. No one leaves unhealed.”
