The Verdigris Pawn by Alysa Wishingrad

Author:Alysa Wishingrad
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2021-05-11T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-One

Charming Cressi

The kitchen came alive overnight. Or maybe it was Cressi who did, as if waking from some thirteen-year dream. She hadn’t even realized the entire night and most of the morning had passed until she pulled the cauldron off the fire and set it down to cool next to the other stewpots.

There were four brews in all now, far more than she’d intended to make when she began working. One brew led to another, to another, and before she knew it, she’d passed the entire night mixing and matching plants, fungi, and roots.

When Anka first left the kitchen, Cressi was quite uncertain what to do. She thought about leaving, but to go where? The pawn was silent and without its guidance she had no idea which direction to go. But there was something else keeping her there; the kitchen seemed to have the same effect on her as the apothecary shop. Without even thinking she started to sift through the packets of herbs in her sack, taking time to feel, taste, and listen to what they each had to offer.

Some were familiar enough—chamomile, tarragon, chervil, and comfrey. They were all upfront and honest about what they could do, the healing they offered available to any- and everyone.

Others, like fox-spur, bitter althea leaves, and rue, were more hesitant to reveal their secrets. Cressi spent more time with these, gently sifting through them until slowly they too began talking.

Then there were those she didn’t know, even though their scents were somehow familiar, as if they were part of a past she’d long forgotten. Some revealed their names, others only their powers. A select few refused to divulge anything at all. Cressi felt the greatest affinity and respect for these, for gaining their trust seemed to be the highest calling she could imagine.

Soon she was overcome by an idea—or maybe it was a feeling—and she began adding herbs and plants to a large pot of water. Mixing and matching, stirring and sniffing, she continued until the air in the kitchen was filled with hints of green coated in honey and morning dew. The aroma was cooling with just enough of a brackish twang to add bite.

That pungency told Cressi she’d hit it right.

Truth.

This was exactly what it smelled like, wasn’t it?

Energized by her success, Cressi began another brew, this one intended to heal fever. It came to her so easily, as if the answer had always been there and all she needed do was turn her head to see it.

With each success she grew more invigorated and emboldened, until finally she was ready for a true challenge—shifting the guards’ allegiance away from the Manor and to the cause of liberty.

She could wipe their memories, leaving them to believe they were Lower Middlelands peasants subjected to the Manor’s cruelties. Or she could make them too frightened to confront their own shadows, let alone pick up a sword. But inflicting harm and engaging in cruelty were things Barger might consider, not Cressi.

No, it was a matter of enhancing and strengthening rather than deleting.

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