The Palace of Lost Memories

Chapter 11

I had no counter argument to that. As much as I thought him mad for suggesting it, how could I prove him wrong? "Why do you think magic is real? It can't simply be because you met people who believe. I know you. You require evidence, something you can see and touch, not blind belief. You won't even pray to Merdu or Hailia, yet you think the palace is magical."

"What other explanation is there for its existence? Now, no more questions."

"Just one. What do we do now?"

"We do nothing, and you are to stay away from the palace."

"I can't."

"Tomorrow is your final visit." He slammed the cup on the table. "Is that understood? You will check Lady Miranda then leave immediately. There's no need for you to linger."

Not unless she wished me to, and I was going to make certain that she did. "We still have to help find the poisoner."

"No we do not. It's a palace matter."

"But the poisoner most likely bought the poisons here in the village. We can help Captain Hammer find out who sold it."

"He doesn't need our help. He can ask the same questions as you or I."

"He has no knowledge of poisons. We do."

"I do. You are a novice when it comes to poisons."

I bristled. "Why are you being so difficult about this? Why are you refusing to help? Lady Miranda almost died. It's our duty to help if we can."

He drained his cup and slammed it down on the table, ending the conversation.

I tidied up then took stock of the larder. While we had all the medicines we needed for now, and the ingredients to make up more, we were woefully short on food.

"I have to go out," I said. "We only have a little cheese and nothing for tomorrow."

"It's late," he grumbled from where he sat at the table, nursing another full cup of ale. "The market's closed."

"The fishermen will still be around. Why don't we have some fresh cray? We have the money for it after the king's payment."

"That should be saved."

"For what?"

He inspected the bottom of his ale. "For after I am gone," he said quietly.

I closed my eyes and appealed to Hailia for strength. When Father became morose, he could stay that way for hours. It required a delicate touch to navigate him out of it.

"You won't die for years yet." I kissed the top of his head. "You're far too stubborn."

He smiled without humor. "Very well. Cray it is. Be home before dark."

Be home before dark—it was a common phrase now, not only spoken by my father but by parents all over the village. Before the Rift, Mull's main crime had been smuggling, as with all the villages dotted along the Glancia coastline. With the influx of trade and people, mostly men, after the Rift cut off The Thumb from the mainland, Mull had become more dangerous, particularly at night. Sailors and dockworkers spent their money at the taverns then went in search of entertainment on their way home or back to their moored ships. Boredom and drunkenness were never a good combination.

I headed out with my basket into the long afternoon shadows. I thought about asking Meg to join me but she would be helping her mother to prepare supper at this time of day. Besides, she wouldn't want me to detour from my task to question the spice traders, and I wasn't up for another lecture so soon after my father's.