Lance Roan's Arc

Chapter 1 of 4

Lance set down the kettle and listened for the gate. His grandmother had been moaning about her knees all morning, which meant the healer was due. He planned to slip out to the yard before she arrived. He always did. He needed a reason to speak to her, and he had not found one yet. Mabel watched him from her chair, eyes bright with mischief. "Best hurry, dear. She's early today." The latch clicked before he reached the door. The healer stepped inside, satchel on her hip, braid over one shoulder. Lance froze in the middle of the room. She looked at him plainly, waiting. His hand went to his pocket and closed around the small glass vial his grandmother had pressed on him days ago. He held it up. "This. It's empty. I came to ask for more." The healer took the vial. She turned it once in her fingers. "That counts." She looked at him a beat longer than needed, then crossed to Mabel without another word. Mabel hummed, very pleased with her knees. Lance stayed where he stood. He had spoken to her. He had given her his name through the vial in her hand. And now she knew his face — which meant the next visit would not let him hide in the yard.