Herb-Witch (Lord Alchemist Duology) Read Online Free Page A

prowling again, to investigate her
storeroom. "What else are you working on?" he asked,
pushing aside the curtain.
    She
didn't answer, but he hardly noticed. Instead of a storeroom . . .
Light slanted over a low cot with threadbare blankets. A stool sat
beside it, and a chamberpot was in the corner. Shelves with jars,
baskets, and bundles of herbs covered the walls, including a
nailed-shut door to the expected stairway leading up to personal
rooms.
    Apparently
the building's owner had seen more profit in leasing a shop below and
apartments above, and Kessa Herbsman was frugal enough to make do
with what she had. Which, he realized, included no sources of heat
save what might seep down from above. He let the curtain fall back
and asked, quietly, "What do you do in the winter?"
    She
stood as straight as any impoverished noble, holding out the twist of
paper. "I use an extra blanket."
    "I
see." Iathor came and took his purchase. "I'll ask Master
Rom to have someone get a description of the 'gray watch' from you."
He could not bear to stay; the awkwardness of his hasty proposal hung
between them, added to his unexpected intrusion – and the
shade of his own mother whispering that there'd been no permission
granted for a table-high boy to come into her private room.
    Before
he left, though, he added, "I will find you, if you vanish."
In the tangle of memory and embarrassment, he honestly wasn't sure if
that was more promise or warning.
    However
she took it, she curtsied silently, hands wrapped in her skirts.
    He
made his voice merely polite, saying "Good day, Tradeswoman
Kessa." Then he escaped to his carriage.

     
     
    Chapter
V
     
    T he
market square was busy, the usual odors mingling with the smell of
autumn leaves being burned for luck. Kessa doubted anyone'd notice
her unless they were looking for an herb-witch. Still, she needed things. Herbs, bird bones, paper . . . Perhaps
a better knife, if she could find one cheaply. She'd more coin now,
and only a half-flower owed to the guild . . . Is
that fair? He bought it, so the guild should get its portion, but
he's the blighted Guild Master, so . . . Well, it
left her with over a tree for spending.
    A
glint of blond from a narrow alley, shadowed in comparison to the
market square, made her lift her gaze and squint. She shaded her face
with one hand, more to half-hide her eyes. Yes, that looked like
Jontho's slouch, for all he wore a baker's apron, with his hat-brim
pulled down. She moved over to the young man.
    "Hey,
Kess-kess-kessalan." She couldn't see much of him, from
sun-glare in her eyes, but it was his clear, deep voice. (Attractive
as the rest of him: blond, blue eyes, and pale as a noble. The
calluses on his hands didn't match any noble pastime, though.)
    He
didn't have an odor she could pick up over the sweat and scents of
the market square itself; she'd brewed the ointment to keep dogs –
and keen-nosed humans – from sniffing him out.
    Kessa
smiled, looking at him through her hair. "Hey, Jontho. How's
Laita?"
    He
frowned. "Worried sick about you."
    Kessa
leaned on the corner between sunlight and shadow. "She heard the
watch got me?"
    "It
did?" Jontho reached out to her shoulder. Mysterious thin
scratches marked his wrist. "No, 'cause the blighted wretch'd
gone babbling, not just forgetful. You all right?"
    "Aye."
She smiled again, tiredly. "Guild officer got me out.
Though . . . I admitted the sleeping potion –
and that someone else must've had a similar idea, so there may be
Alchemists' Guild poking around."
    Jontho's
frown got deeper, though he didn't ask why she'd confessed even that
much. "I'll keep low. Kessa, you didn't use some other potion,
did you?"
    Kessa
shook her head. "No. But if you mix potions . . .
Well, some potions don't care. Some do. Whatever someone else fed
him, it mixed with mine and instead of helping M'lord Sleepy into
bed, I found myself with M'lord Drooling and Babbling. Then he
fell asleep. And someone'd seen me