Linnea's Arc

Chapter 10 of 14

The lord's men came at midday, four riders and a wagon. Linnea stood in the empty barn and waited. The shelf was bare. The straw held nothing but the purple panther, stretched out and calm. Soraya stood close, breathing fast. The riders dismounted and searched every corner. They found no plants. No brew. No stores. Their captain pushed a paper at Linnea. A rough drawing of a face. Linnea's face. "You're the healer," he said. "We'll take you and the beast both." So the empty barn had not saved her. They knew her face. Any door she opened next would draw them again. Linnea saw the whole plan crumble. Scatter the plants, hide the target, start over quiet somewhere new. But the drawing killed that. She could never work under her own face again. The captain reached for her arm. The panther rose. Its markings burned bright violet. But before it moved, the barn wall shook. A shape dropped through the loft window. It landed between Linnea and the men. It was a strange creature, part fox, part bird. Feathered wings folded along a reddish back. Golden eyes fixed on the captain. Behind it padded Mia's broad tan dog, ears flat, chest low, a growl building in its throat. Mia stepped through the barn door after them. "I told you I came to make a deal," she said. She held up the drawing's twin. "There are ten of these. I collected them from the castle courier this morning." She tore the paper in half. "The lord wants a beast-guarded healer. He can have one." Mia pointed at the winged fox and the dog and the panther. "Three beasts. No healer. This healer left the province days ago. Ask anyone in the field. They'll swear it." The captain frowned. "The drawing—" "—is a woman who fled north." Mia smiled. "Take the beasts to your lord. He'll pay you for wonders, not for an empty-handed girl." The men looked at the panther's glowing markings, then at the winged fox, then at the muscled dog. They loaded no captives. They took no plants. They rode off to report a marvel that had slipped away. When the dust settled, Linnea turned on Mia. "You lied for me. Why?" "Because a dead healer earns me nothing," Mia said. "A vanished one is a legend. Legends sell." She snapped her fingers. The dog trotted to her side. "You're free now. No name. No face they'll chase. But you owe me the story." Mia climbed into her cart and left. Linnea stood in the quiet barn. The face on the drawing was dead to the lord. That was the win. But her name was gone too. Whatever she opened next, she would open as a stranger, in some place no one knew her. Two geckos darted across the bare shelf where the blooms had been. Linnea watched them and began to plan a door with no name on it.