By Vengeance Guided (The Lost Shrines Book 1) by Amberlyn Holland Page A
Authors: Amberlyn Holland
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no different. He'd been working on yet another fence when he'd felt her eyes on him. He'd fought every instinct he had to keep from looking over and smiling back at her. Any time they acknowledged one another, it brought her keepers out of the woodwork.
Instead, he'd kept his focus on his work and simply enjoyed the feeling of her presence, even if he couldn't allow himself the pleasure of the view.
While he'd worked, though, the atmosphere had shifted. He heard the harsh whispers and felt a rising tension when Danny looked toward the garden. He'd turned to see Gui manhandling her. There had been no thought, no plan. No consideration of consequences. Caer had just leapt into action.
Before he knew it, he'd had his hands on Gui and was spoiling for a fight. Then Gui whispered sly words that made Caer doubt Lia and made Lia edgy and suspicious in return.
Instead of being grateful for the rescue, she'd been furious with him. He'd stepped all over her independent toes. And heard something she obviously didn't want him to hear.
The sight of the herbarium's fence through the trees forced him to refocus. He slowed down though he really wanted to rush in and begin searching for the truth.
Instead, Caer took a moment to listen and scent for anything out of place or out of the ordinary. Once sure no one was nearby, he finally headed for the fence. It took him a couple of tries but he managed to vault the wooden pickets and land safely on his feet inside the barrier.
Narrow pathways skirted between lush, well-kept beds of various herbs and plants. Several were familiar from the garden his mother had kept before her death. Caerwyn's heart squeezed when he realized he'd not stepped foot in it since his parents’ murder. He had no idea if the gardeners had taken it over or left it be out of habit. His mother had always claimed it as her own endeavor of love.
It seemed an ill-fitting memorial to have ignored something so precious to her simply because it hurt too much. Just because he ached with guilt to remember her happily humming while she weeded and pruned and harvested.
The names of many of the plants came to him unbidden when he passed them. He even knew some of their uses, just from a boyhood of helping her weed and listening to her share her love and knowledge with him. He moved through the dark garden, silently naming those plants he remembered. Tansy and dill. Rosemary and foxglove. Rue and lethym. Thyme and sage.
He paused when he reached the back door leading into the herbarium, and glanced back at the plants. Lethym.
A particularly unusual plant. It was often used as a painkiller. Yet, if prepared and brewed properly, it could become a virulent poison. It was also favored by witches in love charms and potions. It was a plant that required extensive knowledge and care to cultivate and brew so as not suffer its ill-effects. It also supposedly only grew in the Milesan Islands. He remembered his mother telling him every effort to grow it anywhere else had met with failure.
Yet here it was, full and healthy and strong. Caer turned back around and took another look at the garden. The plants were bursting with vitality. Many ready to be harvested.
It was still early summer.
Many of these varieties shouldn’t be ready for at least another month, if not more. What sorcery did they use to do this impossible task? Humans could not call on the earth that way. They came from the east barely ten centuries before. They were not, like the Milesans, descendants of the old race. They had to rely on witchery, and its darker sister, sorcery, in order to call on the elements.
Witchery alone would not have made things grow where they should not. Or when they should not.
Whoever cultivated the lethym would no doubt have knowledge of the various love charms it could be used in.
The question remained, was it Lia? Or Nel? Or one of the other handful of women he'd seen go in and out of the squat building while he'd been working on the
Instead, he'd kept his focus on his work and simply enjoyed the feeling of her presence, even if he couldn't allow himself the pleasure of the view.
While he'd worked, though, the atmosphere had shifted. He heard the harsh whispers and felt a rising tension when Danny looked toward the garden. He'd turned to see Gui manhandling her. There had been no thought, no plan. No consideration of consequences. Caer had just leapt into action.
Before he knew it, he'd had his hands on Gui and was spoiling for a fight. Then Gui whispered sly words that made Caer doubt Lia and made Lia edgy and suspicious in return.
Instead of being grateful for the rescue, she'd been furious with him. He'd stepped all over her independent toes. And heard something she obviously didn't want him to hear.
The sight of the herbarium's fence through the trees forced him to refocus. He slowed down though he really wanted to rush in and begin searching for the truth.
Instead, Caer took a moment to listen and scent for anything out of place or out of the ordinary. Once sure no one was nearby, he finally headed for the fence. It took him a couple of tries but he managed to vault the wooden pickets and land safely on his feet inside the barrier.
Narrow pathways skirted between lush, well-kept beds of various herbs and plants. Several were familiar from the garden his mother had kept before her death. Caerwyn's heart squeezed when he realized he'd not stepped foot in it since his parents’ murder. He had no idea if the gardeners had taken it over or left it be out of habit. His mother had always claimed it as her own endeavor of love.
It seemed an ill-fitting memorial to have ignored something so precious to her simply because it hurt too much. Just because he ached with guilt to remember her happily humming while she weeded and pruned and harvested.
The names of many of the plants came to him unbidden when he passed them. He even knew some of their uses, just from a boyhood of helping her weed and listening to her share her love and knowledge with him. He moved through the dark garden, silently naming those plants he remembered. Tansy and dill. Rosemary and foxglove. Rue and lethym. Thyme and sage.
He paused when he reached the back door leading into the herbarium, and glanced back at the plants. Lethym.
A particularly unusual plant. It was often used as a painkiller. Yet, if prepared and brewed properly, it could become a virulent poison. It was also favored by witches in love charms and potions. It was a plant that required extensive knowledge and care to cultivate and brew so as not suffer its ill-effects. It also supposedly only grew in the Milesan Islands. He remembered his mother telling him every effort to grow it anywhere else had met with failure.
Yet here it was, full and healthy and strong. Caer turned back around and took another look at the garden. The plants were bursting with vitality. Many ready to be harvested.
It was still early summer.
Many of these varieties shouldn’t be ready for at least another month, if not more. What sorcery did they use to do this impossible task? Humans could not call on the earth that way. They came from the east barely ten centuries before. They were not, like the Milesans, descendants of the old race. They had to rely on witchery, and its darker sister, sorcery, in order to call on the elements.
Witchery alone would not have made things grow where they should not. Or when they should not.
Whoever cultivated the lethym would no doubt have knowledge of the various love charms it could be used in.
The question remained, was it Lia? Or Nel? Or one of the other handful of women he'd seen go in and out of the squat building while he'd been working on the
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