wry laugh, "you are dangerously close to traumatizing me as a whole."
Fayree smiled and crouched beside him. Leaning over, she began to check on his wound, keeping herself busy as she stumbled through an explanation. "There is a wild plant called the verue. It has several medicinal properties when used correctly. Specifically, it slows bleeding and promotes the healthy mending of tissue in the body. But it is a difficult plant to find. Very wild."
"Where did you get it?" Winslow glanced at the gooey substance coating his shoulder. "Did you . . . did you cross the Pillars?"
"No. I can never cross the Barrier again. Outside of Magnellum I am considered a traitor to my own kind and the Wild would kill me." Fayree nodded to his shoulder in approval and settled back on her haunches. "But the space between the Pillars, where the Remora stones grow, there are sometimes such plants. You are lucky I was able to locate one."
Winslow regarded her carefully. He knew of the space between the Pillars. The Warders, the sect of society meant to keep both Witch-Born and Untalented in order, hunted the spaces for their Remora stones. A stone could render a Witch-Born talentless, thus putting the nobles of society on equal standing with the Untalented. But they were rare and hard to find. It was dangerous to enter the space. The Wild was active there, capable of attacking if you entered it, which meant that Fayree had taken a rather large risk in order to produce the healing plant.
The methods of the Tre`ow , she'd said. Her people. None of the history lessons he'd been taught as a boy had ever mentioned such a race. In fact, history seemed to take for granted that the Warding Pillars had always been there. The hatred harbored by the Wild was never explained, just accepted as unalterable truth.
Staring at this woman, who was so obviously not Untalented or Witch-Born, Winslow felt a little like an uneducated oaf.
He looked to Mirabella, who fidgeted beside her mother and appeared to be doing her best to behave. He sensed none of the cat in her, but there was something else. Something different , he thought restlessly. Seeming to read his mind, Fayree spoke again.
"My daughter is an anomaly. She is not full Tre`ow and she is not full Untalented. Time alone will show us what she is, Lord Agoston."
"And when will I have command of my Talent again?"
"I do not know," Fayree stood, smiling at Mirabella as only a mother could. Then she refocused on him. "When I used the verue on you, your Talent rejected the Wild in it. There was a battle between your magic and the wildness of the plant. I cannot tell which of them has won."
"You have a little Wild in you." Mirabella bounced twice, beaming as though this were a good thing. "Just like me!"
Unsettled, Winslow couldn't return the smile.
CHAPTER NINE
Valeda surveyed Walter's School for Unfortunates from across the street. It was, by all appearances, a mansion that had been converted to hold the school. The four-story building commanded its half of the street, unapologetically austere behind the wrought-iron gates surrounding it.
At first glance it wouldn't be a place that you would expect to see children, especially happy children, and yet they were there. Just to the right of the building, in a wide patch of grass, several children of varying ages rioted about the place. Their bubbling laughter could be heard above the clap of horses and carriages, and Valeda couldn't suppress her smile.
The sight and sound tugged at her heart and for the first time in several weeks, Valeda felt her unease lessen. Inasmuch as she didn't like Lady Delgora's cryptic movements, Valeda had a sense that she was on the right side of things. Whatever was happening behind the closed doors of noble society, House Witch Delgora was obviously fighting for the Untalented. And since Valeda herself was Untalented, it seemed a good idea to support the Witch rather than expose her.
That was why she hadn't shared anything