Healer's Touch (Deadly Touch #1) [Complete]

Chapter 22: Get Me Out Of Here

Llew entered the farmhouse kitchen and nearly burst into tears. It was homely and small, with a central table surrounded by work benches and a range that was always well-banked at this time of year. The house was warm and fit exactly into her idealized memories of her early life in Quaver. If she'd been hoping to find safety within the borders of Turhmos, this is what it would look like. She didn't drop her guard, though. Every kitchen knife, every pot and pan were scrutinized. They all could be turned into weapons. Who converted them would be a matter of reflexes.

"Well now, who's this?" The woman bustling among the cupboards looked round when Llew entered. She didn't seem at all surprised by the appearance of the girl at her door. She was a fine-featured woman, and lean; the homely women Llew had encountered around Cheer tended toward portliness. Her hair was still dark, and she had it tied back in a bun. Her blue eyes were piercing, bringing Cassidy to mind.

"I found her taking a drink at the well." The man leaned the pitchfork outside on the porch and stepped inside, pulling the door closed behind him.

If anything went wrong, now she had a door to worry about, too.

"She's in need of a good meal." The man patted his own stomach in demonstration.

"You are a kind man, Ard, which is why I love you." The second part barely sounded tacked on. The woman's smile was not unkind but hinted that her husband may have made a habit of bringing in strays. To Llew she said, "Come, you must wash up."

Wanting to believe the best of these people – desperately in need of some human goodness in the world – Llew followed her to a pantry in which stood a basin and jug of water on a shelf.

"Oh, dear. What happened there?"

Llew froze, her hands half raised.

Turning her hand to look at it properly, for perhaps the first time in a couple of days, Llew saw what the woman had seen: the cut was inflamed and wept a milky pus. She'd never had an infection before.

The woman reached out, and Llew snatched her hands back.

"It's okay. I— I'm fine. I'll just be on my way." She backed out of the cupboard and toward the door. It was just the two of them in the kitchen. Ard had disappeared into the adjoining room, trusting Llew with his wife. Stupid man. She was dangerous, especially with a wound inflicted by a Syakaran knife.

The woman looked at Llew properly for the first time and gaped.

"What are you running from, child?" The woman's tone was soft and nonthreatening, but Llew couldn't tell if it was genuine.

"Nothing." She was nearly to the door. She turned to face it and reached for the door handle.

"My best friend was a Syaenuk."

Llew froze.

The woman knew what Llew was. What in hell would she do now?

"Her family was free, unknown to the Turhmos authorities for generations. They never crossed the border for fear they would be found out if they tried, and instead, they settled to farming life. But when she was a young girl, she fell in love."

Llew turned as the woman went to a drawer and pulled on a pair of gloves. She returned to the cupboard and poured some water from the jug into a small saucepan, which she settled on the stove.

"Her eye was caught by a young Aenuk soldier, who passed this way a few times during training exercises. One day, we helped him escape. He stole away under cover of the forest, and we helped him hide until his squad was well away. Her parents weren't happy at all. But they could hardly turn this boy away now, could they?" The woman smiled at the memory, stirring the water absently. "They lived as cousins for a while. I think they nearly managed a year. But, eventually, they couldn't wait any longer, and eloped." The woman fished a clean cloth from a cupboard and sunk it in the water as the first boiling bubbles broke the surface. "I would get letters from all over, even Quaver for a time. The last I heard, she was still in Quaver with her husband and young daughter. But that was a long time ago, more than a decade..."