The Healers' Home: A Slice of Life Fantasy Novel by S.E. Robertson

Author:S.E. Robertson [Robertson, S.E.]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: anonymous
Published: 2016-08-26T00:00:00+00:00

Keifon: Evening Plans

Lulu was suspiciously silent in the crate. Shadow made soft grumbling noises, as though he wanted to be sure that Keifon heard it, but only just.

Keifon cradled the crate against his chest and fumbled in his pocket for his key. “Not too much further, kids. All right?” He patted the tail tip that protruded between the slats and got a claw-punctured finger in return. “Mmmph. I guess I earned that. Hang on…” He set the crate on the ground, extracted the key and unlocked the door before hefting the wooden crate full of two sullen half-grown cats.

Their overnight visit had been uneventful, the priest had reported, despite Keifon’s account of their unhinged behavior on the way to her office. So they didn’t hate the veterinarian, or even being treated. They just hated being carted around town. At least it wasn’t a long trip. He’d found a Tufarian priest willing to treat cats and dogs only a few streets over, and she had performed the kittens’ respective spaying and neutering for a minimal fee.

Eyeing the front stairs, Keifon set the crate on the landing. He closed and locked the door behind him and pulled the lid off the crate. Two furry heads poked out and then turned into scrabbling streaks up the stairs. The empty crate was easy enough to carry, and it didn’t complain.

Shadow groomed himself frantically under the kitchen table. Lulu tore off to take refuge under the couch. Keifon set the crate on the kitchen floor and dished out their food. They’d recuperate in their own time.

Picking up the cats had completed his errands for the day. Dr. Rushu had dropped hints that she and Mirie were tonight’s hosts for another dinner party for her group of Yanweian expatriates. Thinking about namelessness and disappointment, he had wished her a good time.

When Dr. Rushu had first invited him, he’d half-considered it. But then he would have had Agna at his side. Someday, he told himself, he would cave to Dr. Rushu’s and Agna’s suggestions. He could focus on introducing Agna to his culture, to the food and the social niceties that she knew only second-hand. She would be his distraction and his anchor. Alone, he wouldn’t hold up for long. If it were cowardice to admit that, so be it.

Keifon filled a pitcher with unboiled water and pushed open the windows into the chilly, bright autumn air. The herbs he’d planted in their windowboxes unfolded small green leaves. The frost hadn’t come yet. He watered the boxes outside the kitchen, then moved on to the other rooms one at a time. Even the long boxes outside Agna’s studio were full of herbs. He couldn’t bring himself to venture into Agna’s room, but otherwise every west- and south-facing window had been put to use.

The Benevolent Union and the earthbreakers’ guild imposed thorough safety procedures on their work crews, but plenty of workers had come into the hospital with muscle strains or dehydration. Demand for pain-relieving and muscle-relaxing compounds had soared, and the city’s herbalists needed more growers to meet it.

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