Page 25 of Bought By the Revenant
Aura Glade gave me what I needed then: a quiet village where few people lived and fewer asked questions. The mansion I built sat far enough from the village center that I rarely encountered anyone. The servants I hired came from distant places and needed the work. I finally had a place to hide.
But now I see the flaw in my plan. Aura Glade has no portal, and the nearest one is in Ethelburg, hours away by carriage. The portals that make traveling through Alia Terra fast and easy need constant maintenance and cost more than most places can afford. Wealthy estates have private ones. Marriage Temples keep several. Cities sometimes install public portals for travelers and trade, if they’re big enough. Small villages like Aura Glade make do without them.
If I had a portal at the mansion, Amity could reach patients instantly. She could help women like Katherine without these long carriage rides. I should have one installed. The cost means nothing to me, and the benefits would change everything for her work. I could even pay for one in the village and maintain that one as well. I can afford it.
For now, we have only my carriage and Olaf to drive it, and it’s slow. With a portal in Aura Glade and one at home, I could’ve fetched Amity’s clothes and bag and been back with her in a matter of minutes. I guess they don’t call it live and learn for nothing.
The mansion appears through the trees, and I’m surprised to see lights burning in the windows. All three servants wait outside despite the late hour. Nell rushes forward before the carriage fully stops.
“Master! We were so worried. Where is Mistress Amity?”
“There was an emergency,” I say. “A woman went into early labor. Amity is helping with the birth.”
I hurry past them into the house. Every moment away from her feels wrong, and it definitely feels wrong to be home without her. In Amity’s room, I pull her midwife’s bag from the wardrobe and gather a few clothes. My eyes move to the bed before I can stop them. Last night, we lay there together, and she touched me without fear or disgust. She kissed the stitches on my chest and called them beautiful. The memory makes my hands shake as I fold her clothes.
Nell appears in the doorway with a small basket.
“I packed some food and tea,” she says. “The mistress might be hungry.”
“Thank you.”
I grab the basket and rush back downstairs. I know the servants would love to hear more details, but there’s no time. For some unexplainable reason, I feel like there’s a ticking clock above my head, counting the minutes. To what? I don’t know. I’m being paranoid, most likely. I jump in the carriage and urge Olaf to hurry.
“Right away, sir,” he says, snapping the reins.
We move faster than before, yet the journey feels longer. I grip Amity’s bag and lean forward, as if that will get us there sooner. It must be the fact that since I brough her into my house, we’ve never been apart. Even when she worked in the garden and I was in my workshop, I knew she was there, on my land, my property, and that she was safe. I could look out the window and see her or walk to the back door and watch her. It’s all in my head, I know. She’s delivering a baby, and here I am, driving myself crazy because I miss her.
The blue house appears at last, and I jump off before Olaf has a chance to stop the carriage completely. The windows glow softly with lamplight, but no sounds come from inside. Iexpected to hear Katherine screaming. Maybe she’s given birth and she’s asleep? I knock on the front door, but no one answers. I try the handle and find it unlocked, so I enter carefully. The living room is empty, so I move to the bedroom.
Indeed, Katherine is asleep. Beside her bed is a wooden crib with a newborn baby inside. The child looks perfect – completely human, which makes sense. Revenants may be stitched from different bodies, but our parts come from humans. When we have children with mortal partners, those children are always human. No glowing eyes, no stitches, just normal babies who grow into normal people. Relief washes through me that the birth went well, but then the question remains. Where is Amity?
The floorboards creak behind me. I turn to see Fenna, who gasps when she sees me. A man stands behind her, tall, broad-shouldered, with the weathered look of someone who works outside. This must be Katherine’s husband.
“Where is Amity?” I ask.
“She left after the baby was born. She said she was going to wash up, but she never came back. I thought she went home.”
“She’s not at home. I just came from there.” My voice rises a notch.
The baby starts crying, and Katherine’s eyes flutter open.
“What’s happening?” she asks.
“I’m looking for Amity,” I say. “Do you know where she went?”
Katherine shakes her head. “I’m sorry, I don’t. But I’m so grateful for her help. She saved us both. We should pay her…”
“That’s not important right now,” I say, waving away the mention of money. All I care about is finding Amity.
I start moving through the house, opening doors and checking rooms. The house is small, so it doesn’t take long to search every corner. A kitchen with dishes still in the sink, a sitting room with mended furniture, a storage room with preserves on shelves, and a second bedroom, smaller and nearly empty. No sign ofAmity anywhere, not even in the bathroom, where I barge in after knocking on the door.
Katherine’s husband follows me.
“I understand you’re worried,” he says, “but I must ask you to stop. You’re disturbing my wife and child.”
The words are polite, but his meaning is clear. Get out. I want to grab him and shake him. I want to remind him that Amity just saved his family. But I know he’s right. Tearing through his house won’t fix anything.
“If she returns, please tell her I’m looking for her,” I say stiffly.
