Page 37 of Pippa of Lauramore
I don’t likethe look Yuven gives me.
“What exactly do you need a salve for?” He runs a hand through his messy black hair.
I shift from one foot to the other. “Poisonous plants.”
“Like…” He sits down at his bench and taps his fingers. “Stinging waspnettle?”
“Something like that,” I mumble.
“And it’s for…?”
I grimace and then answer, “Archer.”
Yuven takes a deep breath. “Pippa?—”
I lean down, making him look at me. “Please, Yuven.”
He gives the table another tap, and then he goes to the cabinet along the wall. There are dozens of tinctures, tea mixes, and salves.
“Thank you,” I say as I gratefully take the glass jar of green goo.
He purses his lips and nods. “You made it last time you helped me, remember?”
I nod and make my way to the door, turning back before I leave. “How did the garden maid like the yallow?”
The herbalist turns a deep shade of red. “She liked it.”
“I’m happy to hear it,” I say with a teasing grin.
“Don’t forget my herbs.”
“I’ll see if I can find them tomorrow.”
He pulls a thick volume off a shelf, already dismissing me. “Oh, and Pippa? Be kind to Archer.”
I blink at him. “I’m always kind to Archer.”
He raises an eyebrow but doesn’t answer.
Firelight shinesfrom the cottage when I arrive. I knock on the door and go in, not bothering to wait for an answer. Archer’s lying on a cot in the corner, and he sits up, looking groggy when I come in.
“How are you?” I ask as I sit next to him.
The welts look angry and have darkened to a nasty red color. I check his forehead for a fever. He’s hot but it’s not too alarming yet. I don’t, however, like how pale his face is.
“I brought the salve.”
“You shouldn’t be here.” His voice is ragged. The poison from the waspnettle has taken effect.
I release the seal on the jar and dip a finger in the green goop, scrunching my nose at the strong herbal smell. Too late, I remember my training with Yuven. “Oh, I need to wash the welts first.”
Smearing the goo back in the jar, I wipe my finger off as well as I can and glance around the cottage. There’s not much in here. There’s a kettle on the table, though.
“I’ll be right back.”
“Pippa, you don’t have to?—”
“Hush.” I push him back down on the cot. “You rest. I’ll only be a moment.”
