“Molly,” I begged. I reached to take her arm, but she spun about, her hand raised to slap me.
“Don’t touch me,” she warned in a low voice. “Don’t you ever dare to touch me again!”
She left.
After a time I remembered I was standing under Burrich’s stairs in the dark. I shivered with cold and something more. No. Something less. My lips drew back from my teeth in something neither a smile nor a snarl. I had always feared that my lies would make me lose Molly. But the truth had severed in an instant what my lies had held together for a year. What must I learn from that? I wondered. Very slowly I climbed up the steps. I knocked on the door.
“Who is it?” Burrich’s voice.
“Me.” He unlatched the door and I came into the room. “What was Molly doing here?” I asked him, not caring how it might sound, not caring that the bandaged Fool sat still at Burrich’s table. “Did she need help?”
Burrich cleared his throat. “She came for herbs,” he said uneasily. “I could not help her, I did not have what she wanted. Then the Fool came, and she stayed to help me with him.”
“Patience and Lacey have herbs. Lots of them,” I pointed out.
“That is what I told her.” He turned away from me, and began clearing away the things he had used to work on the Fool. “She did not wish to go to them.” There was something in his voice, almost prodding, pushing me to the next question.
“She’s going away,” I said in a small voice. “She’s going away.” I sat down on a chair before Burrich’s fire and clenched my hands between my knees. I became aware I was rocking back and forth, tried to stop.