Chapter 14

“Did you put away the crystals for the mineral show on Saturday?” Mother asked as she stirred the stew in the pot over the stove.

“Yes,” I said. I was sitting at the kitchen table working on the most interesting book about the correspondence of poisonous herbs in healing. Opium, for example, was an incredibly adaptive plant. For physical medicine, patients were given in small doses to alleviate pain, but giving too much, would stop the patient’s breathing. Now, if you get the fire element’s permission, you can give a person a magical lobotomy if you carve a person’s name into opium poppy flower petals and set them on fire.

This kind of education would never be freely given to us at school, it does make sense however. Students around poisonous plants were disasters in the making, but the fact that this knowledge wasn’t being offered irritates me. Too much of our education was based on the fact that the headmaster views things as too dark. Practical use could always be continued in a more controlled setting, in this case, the setting of a healing apprenticeship if one wanted to go into a more advanced healing practice.

I was taking notes and drawing what the plant looked like to be able to identify them if I ever needed to. I found myself to be a visual and hands-on learner. All of my notes were drawn out in some way, and when studying came around, I would even color them to help with memorization. However, this was just for pleasure. Mother had me sit in here and work because she wanted to talk to me about something, but I highly doubt it was about the mineral show.

“Good. The amethyst piece should sell high this time. That famous singer, the one with the bright blue hair and gold teeth, you know the one?” She mumbled, “Anyway, she has been praising the help of her crystal in her most recent interview so shops have been selling out of their stock in minutes. If we leave it for the end of the show and advertise it, we should get way more than we were originally planning.”

“That’s good,” I said, filling in the poppy flower on the left side of my notes.

I heard her turn off the gas and then rummage in the cabinet for the bowls I had just finished cleaning maybe an hour ago. I heard the wet plops of each scoop of stew and a metal spoon tinging against the porcelain bowls.

“Put those away!” She said as she placed a steaming bowl in front of me.

I didn’t say anything, just obeying her as I finished the word I was writing and shut my notebook. Taking both my book and notebook, I reached over and placed them on a nearby side table that housed our keys and other everyday necessities.

“There is something I need to tell you.” She said as she placed her own bowl in front of her usual seat.

I look at her with one eyebrow cocked to get her to continue as I picked up the cutlery. She seemed to be gathering her whits as she placed her napkin in her lap then folded her hands under the table. I could tell that was what she was doing by the way her arms were taunt and staying in place.

When she didn’t talk for a straight minute, I grabbed my spoon and took a good amount of stew on it. I was about to raise it to my mouth when she finally broke the silence.

“We will be housing one of your classmates for the week.” She blurted out.

“Oh? Who?” I said as I took a mouthful. It was a tad too salty but I wouldn’t dare tell her that.

“Xiomara Riley.” She said cautiously. I paused mid-chew before slowly finishing the food in my mouth. Xiomara Riley? I never interacted with her before, but Xavier and Gideon loved pulling her pigtails. They always said it was because she was gross, vile, or feisty. I always thought they enjoyed the way her cheeks heated when she was angry and how smooth her voice got when she snarked back.

“Xiomara Riley?” I asked once I swallowed my food.

“Yes, she has fallen on some hard times and I thought she should have a place to recoup before doing what she needed to do. When I went to the hospital to deliver a shipment of crystals, I found the poor thing being talked to by her doctor and knew I needed to offer to help.” Mother said, taking a deep breath. “I would have asked you if it was okay with you first but I figured since it was just a week you wouldn’t mind.”

“Why would I mind?” I asked. In reality, I didn’t really care. As long as she kept to herself and didn’t bother me, I couldn’t care less if she even moved in.

I raised an eyebrow, my interest piqued despite myself. “I don’t mind. But why is she staying with us? What happened?”

Mother’s eyes darted away, her fingers fidgeting with her napkin. “There was… an incident. With her family.”

“An incident?” I pressed, setting my spoon down. The way she said it, laden with unspoken weight, made me lean forward.

She sighed, her shoulders sagging. “Xiomara’s parents are dead, Silas. Her father killed her mother, and then Xiomara… well, she defended herself.”

I blinked, processing the information. It wasn’t often something caught me off guard, but this… “She killed her father?”

Mother nodded grimly. “It was self-defense. The authorities cleared her, but she needs a place to stay while things get sorted out.”

I leaned back in my chair, considering the implications. She had killed a man. Her own father, no less. It was… intriguing. No. It was more than interesting; it was exciting.

“When does she arrive?” I asked, picking up my spoon again.

“Tomorrow afternoon,” Mother replied, seemingly relieved I wasn’t protesting. “I’ve prepared the guest room for her. Just… be kind, Silas. She’s been through a lot.”

I nodded, my mind already racing with possibilities. “Of course. I’ll be on my best behavior.”