Marcus Heartwood's Arc

Chapter 2 of 2

The healer set her pack down by the wood stove and pulled out a stone mortar, scattering crushed leaves across the table. The atrium glowed warm around them. Marcus watched her hands work, steady and sure, while the stranger slept by the fire. She had not yet said if she would stay. She lifted a small amulet from inside her satchel — roses curled around a pink heart-shaped stone — and laid it beside the mortar. "This was my sister's," she said. "She died on a road like the one out there. No one took her in." Marcus felt his throat tighten. He did not reach for a pitch. He only nodded. "I'll stay," she said, "if you promise me one thing. That no one who comes through your door is turned away. Not ever." Marcus looked at the amulet, then at her. "I can carry that," he said. Something quieter passed between them — a recognition, soft as the firelight on her cheek. She smiled, small and tired, and pushed the mortar toward him. "Then crush these with me. We have work to do before dawn." Their hands brushed over the stone. Marcus did not pull away. The refuge was still only a dream — but tonight, he was no longer dreaming it alone.