Martin placed his book on the bench of his carriage as it came to a stop. He got out, placing his hands in his robes as he glanced up at the home with a small garden in the front. He walked forward, knocking on the door, waiting only a moment before it was opened by an older woman, Beatriz. She had plenty of grey streaking her brown hair, and her green eyes at first looked at him curiously before she recognized Martin’s white robes.

“High Elder Martin, what an absolute honor,” she said, curtseying.

He bowed. “Please. Just call me Martin.”

“I have heard of your odd requests. I shall try to remember,” she said. “Would you like me to get my husband? He is cleaning his own study, but he would stop if he knew you were here.”

“On the contrary. It is you I’d like to see,” Martin said.

“Me?” the woman asked.

“You are Beatriz, wife of Sabello. One of the most powerful female healers in the city, no?” Martin asked.

Beatriz gave another small curtsey. “I did not realize you knew who I was.”

“You have attended to Inessa all these years?” Martin asked.

“Of course. A sweet girl.”

“I have a few questions about her, if you don’t mind. Would you feel more comfortable having your husband present while I ask you them? They are about female anatomy.”

“Oh, I dare say my husband might be far more embarrassed about it and would rather not be present, but I will make him aware that you are here,” Beatriz said.

Beatriz stepped aside and let Martin in. While Beatriz went to talk with her husband, Martin studied the paintings on the walls, marveling at their beauty. A short time later she returned with a tray. It held a tea kettle and cups with some cream and sugar jars.

“My husband has willingly sacrificed his morning tea to us so he doesn’t have to hear about female anatomy,” Beatriz said as she set the tray down. “Would you like me to prepare your tea?”

“Oh, no no,” Martin said, reaching for one of the teacups. “I have bothered you enough on this holiday.”

“I’d rather you disturb me on the Day of Cleaning than any other day of the Spring Welcoming,” Beatriz said, as Martin poured his tea. He poured some cream and gave it a good sprinkling of sugar before leaning back.

“Thank you,” Martin said with a smile. “You have family traveling tomorrow?”

“I do, yes. My two sons are coming with their wives and children.” Beatriz prepared her own cup of tea. “And you?”

“Oh, my wife has invited anyone who has any sort of relations to us. I dare say our house will be impossibly full this week,” Martin said.

Beatriz chuckled as she settled in with her cup. “So, you have a question about Inessa?”

“I’m trying to figure out her situation. I asked Marquella, the female tree talker about the different powders and lotions she gave her. As far as she could tell they worked in Inessa, except for the fact that she has remained barren,” Martin said.

“I can vouch for Marquella’s skills. She and I have worked together for decades in this sort of thing. We have cured hundreds of women of their barrenness,” Beatriz said. “Which has made Inessa’s situation so incredibly odd.”

“Indeed,” Martin said, sipping his tea. “Now, I am curious if there could be any other additional powder Inessa could be taking that could somehow block everything else you’ve given her, including your incredible skills as healer.”

Beatriz frowned, then turned her head to the side. “I don’t think that’s possible.”

“Marquella said the only thing she could think of would be poppy root,” Martin said.

Beatriz nodded. “Yes, but there would have to be a number of factors involved with poppy root.”

“Such as?”

Beatriz frowned again, sipping her tea. “It would take an incredibly gifted tree talker to be able to hide something like that from me and Marquella.”

Martin placed his teacup down. “Do you think it’s possible someone is forcing her to do this to hold it over her head? Almost threatening her?”

“Whoever it is would have an incredible knowledge of her body to hide it that well. Almost a healer and a tree talker at the same time, and there is no one like that. Well, of course Warrior Indenuel would be able to do something like that, but he came to us only recently. No, if it is poppy root, Inessa would have to be doing it herself, and that’s simply impossible.” Beatriz took a sip from her cup.

“If you don’t mind my asking, why would that be impossible for her to do?” Martin asked.

“Because I know the girl, I know Marquella, and I know myself. Inessa is not that powerful of a tree talker. Poppy root is impossible to hide from someone like me and Marquella, let alone hide it from High Elder Navir and yourself. Yes, Inessa is a tree talker, but her minimal religious upbringing, her lack of schooling, it simply doesn’t fit. Poppy root is something a girl would have to study years and years to figure out how to hide this well. The smallest mistake, and we would have found it.”

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Martin nodded, trying to think this through. “What if… she is that powerful?”

Beatriz looked up from her tea, staring at Martin almost incredulously. “That shy little thing who has come here for years? Submissive to a fault? Who doesn’t even know how to read? Marquella even commented how it’s a pity some of these girls don’t develop their powers as much as they could. I assure you, sir. Inessa is not capable of it.”

He gave an absent nod as he finished his tea. “Just Martin.”

Beatriz smiled. “Oh, right. I forgot.”

Martin placed his tea down and stood up. “Thank you, Beatriz. This has been most helpful.”

Beatriz stood with him. “An honor to help.”

Martin left the house, getting into his carriage, thinking all the way home. Despite what Beatriz said, he had a feeling people only knew the Inessa she wanted them to see.

He walked into his house.

“Happy Spring, Martin,” Derio said.

“Happy Spring, Derio. I need to send a message. Can you help?” Martin asked.

“Certainly,” Derio said.

“In my study, please. I’d like to connect to Navir.”

They walked in, and Martin shut the door as Derio opened the window, grabbing a branch. Martin sat down and started writing his message.

“He is listening, sir.”

Martin passed the paper. How powerful of a tree talker is Inessa?

Derio took the paper, sending the message as Martin prepared a paper, ink, and quill for Derio’s response. Martin waited, staring at his empty office as he listened to Derio scratch the reply. He passed it to Martin.

I never tested her personally, but she doesn’t seem like that powerful of a tree talker.

Doesn’t seem. Martin lowered the paper, deeply troubled.

“Martin?” Derio asked.

“That will be all, Derio. Thank him for me.”

“Right away.”

Martin placed his elbows against his desk, memories resurfacing. Derio finished and left quickly, and Martin continued to stare. Inessa doesn’t seem that powerful. That’s what Navir said. But what if Inessa could make people believe she wasn’t? Everything inside him said it was impossible, except for that one night when he watched her go from sobbing uncontrollably to bottling it up and giving a gracious curtsey. He didn’t know if Inessa was a powerful enough tree talker, but he did know she could hide it if she was.

And if she could hide how powerful she was, what else was she hiding? What reason, sinister or otherwise, would cause her to go through every single High Elder. What secrets could she be gathering?

The more Martin thought about it, the sicker he felt to his stomach. There was absolutely no way Inessa did this for innocent reasons. She must be some sort of spy, and he needed to consider her a danger.

***

The girls ran from the carriage, this time giving Indenuel kisses on his cheek, something they picked up from their Oraminian friends before running straight for Tolomon. Tolomon laughed, gathering them both in his arms and picking them up, giving them a twirl as they shrieked and giggled.

“Hey, Matteo,” Indenuel said “Have you grown?”

Matteo shrugged. “I think so.”

Indenuel smiled before giving him a hug. “Baleeah said she’s bringing some more children. Something about sliding down the banister in the entryway?”

Matteo kept a straight face. “I have no idea what she’s talking about.”

Indenuel snorted, ruffling his hair. “Don’t break anything. Most of the servants are gone for the holiday.”

“Which is why she wants to do it,” Matteo said, before his eyes widened. “If… if she was actually… if that’s what she was going to do.” Indenuel gave a loud laugh, patting his back. “So, I’ve…” Matteo paused, then looked away. “I should have told you when I found this out, but I’ve been nervous about it.”

“About the mattresses?”

“No. About…”

“Yes?” Indenuel asked, trying to encourage him.

Matteo looked away. “The school I go to, they’ve been testing me for quite some time now and…” Matteo swallowed, trying to smile. “I’m a speaker of the dead.”

A smile broke across Indenuel’s face. “Your gift! It finally came!”

“It’s weak, but the other night I… I finally had a dream where I talked with my mother.”

Indenuel’s smile continued to grow. He of course already knew this, but he didn’t want to ruin the surprise. “Ah, Matteo. That is so great to hear. See! I knew you weren’t broken.”

Matteo finally smiled. “It is nice. Finally knowing.”

“Mountain Pass certainly did a number on us. They had two speakers of the dead and didn’t even know it. It’s their own fault for treating us so bad,” Indenuel said.

The smile on Matteo’s face vanished. He gave a non-committal shrug. “I guess.”

“What do you mean you guess?”

Matteo looked hesitant before his gaze turned to the twin girls. “The things they did, how they treated us, they kind of… can’t. Not anymore. I don’t know why they did what they did, but… but it’s like Martin said at his last sermon. I’ve got my whole life ahead of me now. I don’t want to waste it being angry at them.”

Indenuel stared at Matteo, then tried to smile. “What a large, forgiving heart you have.”

The boy shrugged, more certain this time, but said nothing.

Indenuel about said something but paused. Matteo would be ten next month. In another four years he’d start an apprenticeship. He escaped Mountain Pass with enough time that he could forget it all in a few more years. He’d like to believe Matteo truly had forgiven them, but Indenuel struggled with the idea that forgiveness could be possible in a Godless world. With the hypocrisy of the High Elders, how could forgiveness be anything other than giving the other person power to do the same thing to you again? Wouldn’t making sure they never did it again far more valuable to society than forgiving them and moving on?

And yet Nathaniel forgave him. So did Tolomon. But were they smart to do so?

“Do me a favor, Matteo,” Indenuel said. Matteo looked up at him, his green eyes not looking nearly so childlike. “Stay close to your sisters.”

Matteo nodded. “I will. I’m sure this week is going to be crazy.”

“I mean… for the rest of your life,” Indenuel said.

Matteo returned to his frown. “What are you talking about?”

Indenuel watched as Emilia and Isla dragged Tolomon over to another bush with a pretty flower.

“I know they’re not technically your sisters, but don’t let that matter. Stay in touch with them. And if anything should happen to me…” Indenuel continued to look at the twins, watching their youthful faces somehow untouched by the hate of the world. “Just make sure they don’t forget me.”

Matteo stared at Indenuel. There wasn’t any fear, more an understanding. If Indenuel hadn’t talked with Nathaniel the day before, he’d have been a mess. But he felt better, knowing the children would be taken care of if the worst was to happen. Matteo walked over, giving him a hug, and Indenuel hugged him back, closing his eyes.

“I promise they will never forget you,” Matteo said quietly.

Indenuel smiled. “Thank you, Matteo. Now, come on. If the girls show Tolomon every flower here on the walkway you three are never going to get any breakfast.”