Esmerelda Bark-Reader's Arc

Chapter 3 of 4

Esmerelda returned to her cottage at dusk with the map rolled tight under her arm. She set water to boil and laid out her notes on the table. She would visit the healer at first light. The healer had given her the vial. The healer could stand beside her when she spoke. Two voices would be harder to dismiss than one. Esmerelda blew out the lamp and tried to sleep. She woke before dawn and walked straight to the healer's cottage. The door stood half open. Inside, the hearth was cold. A patchwork satchel lay tipped on the floor, its torn leather split wide, dried herbs and crushed petals spilled across the boards. Esmerelda knelt and lifted it. The healer never let this bag from her side. A clay jar lay shattered beside it. One muddy bootprint cut through the scattered leaves, too large to be the healer's. Esmerelda set the satchel down. Her only witness was gone, taken in the night, and the evidence in her pouch was now hers alone to carry. She stepped out back. Behind the cottage sat a ring of moss-covered stones around a bed of cold ash. The healer slept here on warm nights. The blanket lay folded. The ash was undisturbed. Whoever took her had not come this way. Esmerelda followed the bootprint toward a low rise where a stack of crates pressed against the fence. From the top crate, the elder's lodge sat in plain view. The healer had been watching him. He had finally noticed. Esmerelda climbed down and pressed her hand against the leather pouch at her hip. The map. The vial. The poisoned bark. No witness now. No second voice. She would have to be the whole case herself, and she would have to move before the elder came for her too.