Zypheria's Call (A Tanyth Fairport Adventure) Read Free Page A

a wink and a nod and his long legs soon carried him out of sight around the inn.
    She stood there for a few more moments, her fingers seeking her lips once again. Somewhere in the forest a squirrel chittered and drew her gaze in the direction of the noise.
    “You’re a foolish, old woman,” she muttered to herself, but her fingertips continued to reassure her that her lips were still lips, that her fingers were flesh and blood, not feathers. “Foolish,” she repeated before rousing herself to go back into the hut.
    She slipped the latch and ducked her head as she’d done a hundred times. The lintels on the doors were low and she had to step down three steps to enter the cozy hut. She’d managed to get in and out of that very door untold numbers of times all winter long. Yet she clipped her head on the top of the door and the bright pain pushed her off-balance. Her foot missed the first step, heel catching on the second as she pitched forward into the room, empty teacup flying, holding out her arms to break her fall.
    The dry twig snap of her forearm seemed loud in the quiet room before the sharp pain blossomed.
    She lay there on the woven grass mat of the floor, cradling her arm, and cursing herself silently until the pain made her pant the words aloud. “Foolish. Old. Woman.”

Chapter Two:
Winged
    The next couple of hours passed in a fog of pain. Broken bones were common enough in the village. The quarrymen managed to break at least one bone a year among them and rambunctious children fell out of their share of trees. When Tanyth showed up at the inn cradling her left arm, Sadie and Amber plopped her into a chair and had the bone set, splinted, and nearly wrapped almost before the three swallows of rum burned down to her belly.
    “Poultice,” she said, eyes still streaming from the combination of pain and rum.
    Amber blinked. “Poultice?”
    Sadie said, “Bone stitch, of course. You taught us, right? Comfrey. Make a poultice?”
    Tanyth nodded, pleased that the younger woman had remembered.
    “We got some growing just outside, mum,” Sadie said, heading for the back door.
    “Too young yet,” Tanyth said, breathing deep and pushing the air out, willing the pain to go out with each breath. “Get dried from my hut. Grab a whole bundle and bring it back.”
    Sadie changed course and bolted through the connecting door to the common room. Tanyth heard her footsteps slapping on the steps as she went out the door.
    Amber held the loose end of wrapping. “Should I continue, mum?”
    Tanyth looked down at her arm. The flesh was already turning a nasty color and looked puffy from swelling. “It’s set, thank the Lady,” Tanyth said. “Long’s I don’t move much, it should be all right like this.”
    “We’ll have to wrap it eventually, mum.”
    Tanyth poked her skin with one finger above and below the obvious bruising, wincing a little at the pressure. “Yeah. But wrappin’ it now, I’ll just swell under the wrappin’. Best let it fill in a bit before you go squeezin’ it with that.”
    Amber nodded and pulled a pot down from the hanger, filling it halfway with water and putting it on the stove. “Sadie will be back in a minute, mum. You just rest easy.”
    Tanyth tried to relax. She closed her eyes and pictured the woods behind her hut, cool and damp. She concentrated on breathing in the rich forest smell, even while her nose told her that bread baked nearby.
    In moments, they heard Sadie’s hurried steps. She burst through the door with a bundle of gray-green plant material in her hand. “Sorry it took so long. Had to use the broom to get it down.”
    Tanyth smiled. “I had to use the broom to put it up there, so seems fair.”
    Their winter of training showed as the two broke the stalks of comfrey into the pot, the musky smell of it not quite able to beat back the scent of fresh bread. Amber pushed the leaves into the water with a large wooden spoon and swirled them around a few times.
    Sadie