Lenesa knew it had been a bad idea to return to the city.

It was raining, as though even the weather was trying to convince her to turn back. Every step shook droplets of rain from her hood that splashed in her face, and mud had stained all along the hem of her dress. The only blessing that came from the bad weather was that by wearing several layers, Lenesa hadn't needed to cram herself into a suffocating corset to blend in with Patachal fashion styles. No one would be able to tell the difference in her dress, as long as she kept her cloak on.

She passed through the front gates of the city easily enough with a flash of her charmed-brown hair and an apologetic excuse that she'd lost track of time searching for blackberries along the outer path. The guards on this shift were familiar enough with her comings and goings that they merely shook their heads and muttered words of caution to her as she passed, mistaking her for a resident of the city. Lenesa merely gave a small smile and assured them it wouldn't happen again.

She pulled her hood low as she walked through the gates, careful to keep the fabric and her hair over the side of her face with the scar. There were some things even magic couldn't hide, and that telling feature was unfortunately one of them. It was only once she was safely past the security measures that she allowed herself a breath, loosening her tight grip on her travel basket and setting off down a familiar route, towards the bookstore.

It was growing late in the afternoon, and most shops would be closing up soon. The light at the bookstore still glowed welcomingly through its windows, however, and Lenesa's pace increased despite her attempts to tamp down her eagerness. Once she reached the front step, she set a gloved hand against the door for just a moment longer than needed, taking a small second to appreciate the familiar painted wood. The top hinge squeaked as it always did when she opened it, and then she was greeted with the smell of parchment and leather book bindings stacked on high shelves of oak and cedar. The door clicked shut softly behind her, though not soon enough to stop a final draft of wind slipping inside and ruffling the hems of Lenesa's sleeves.

A slow turn of a page crinkled from somewhere at the back of the store, and Lenesa followed after the sound, boots tapping softly against the floor. Soon, a desk came into view from between the shelves, and behind it, a man with a gray-streaked beard and round wire spectacles. He was so immersed in his reading that he didn't look up until Lenesa's shadow fell across his desk, at which point he looked up in surprise.

"Lenesa!" The book was cast on the desktop, forgotten, and the bookkeeper hurried to his feet. "I was starting to wonder about you. Why, I haven't seen you since the end of winter!"

Lenesa lowered her hood and gave an apologetic smile. "Life has been a bit...busy as of late," she explained.

The bookkeeper shook his head regretfully. "Still, to be gone almost an entire season...but perhaps it is best that you returned when you did." He trailed off and turned away down one of the aisles, as though wishing to drop the matter.

A knot of anticipation tightened in Lenesa's stomach, and she followed through the rows of books with measured steps. "Nothing has happened in my absence, has there?" she asked.

The bookkeeper glanced over his shoulder and gave a brief smile, though the warmth didn't quite reach his eyes. "Nothing terrible. A few broken bones and other ailments, but nothing too serious." He paused, as if considering his next words very carefully. "Although...there have been a few disappearances as of late, and it's put the townspeople on edge. It might be more difficult for you to pass in and out of the city, soon. The governor has been trying to organize an identification checkpoint. You'll need papers."

The knot in Lenesa's stomach sank lower. "Papers?"

The man raised an eyebrow. "I'm sure it won't be too difficult to make a forgery."

Lenesa licked her suddenly-dry lips as she worried over this new development. She was only pulled from her thoughts when the bookkeeper tapped a finger against the spine of a book, the hollow sound serving as a distraction.

"I had them write in this one, this time," he said, pulling the volume off its shelf. "It's such a dreary book, hardly anyone asks for it anymore."

Lenesa followed him to a small reading table near the front of the store, where he dropped the heavy book on the surface. Lenesa set her basket on the space beside it and watched the bookkeeper as he began rifling through the pages.

"Let's see, let's see...page four-hundred eleven, four-hundred seventy-eight—aha!" Lenesa followed his finger to page 482, which had been mostly blank aside from a small paragraph at the top. Now, however, names and addresses had been scribbled in uneven rows at the bottom, along with brief descriptions next to each.

Tinmi Olake, 54 Stone Street—sprained wrist

Yelen Ulrony, 67 Apple Lane—upset stomach and chills

Garrow MicHale, 93 Orchard Way—dizziness and confusion

Lenesa continued to read down the list. 17 people in total had sought out the book in the Spring and written their afflictions down in the hopes that she would visit them.

"Word of my skills has been spreading," she muttered aloud. "Nearly twenty strangers—though Garrow has known about me for a while now."

The bookkeeper studied the page from beside her with a frown. "Yes. You'd best remind them to be careful who they tell. There's no way of knowing if the knowledge might get into the wrong hands."

Lenesa looked down at her own hands, still gloved, resting on the tabletop on either side of the book. Was it truly worth worrying about being discovered by the witch hunters though, when a different demise was already creeping up on her?

Lenesa straightened and cleared her throat. "Well, it can't be helped. I'd better make my way down the list as quickly as I can, and just hope for the best." Perhaps she'd try to find Theiden's house and locate the goblin along the way.

The bookkeeper shook his head. "No need to visit all of them. Some have already healed since they've put in their request—it's nearly summer now, after all. Let's see..." He trailed a finger down the list, going over the names one-by-one. "Tinmi and Yelen are all right by now, though Garrow's illness is persistent, as you know...Itsele's recovered, but Makkai's arm is still broken—personally, I don't think Doctor Gheris set it properly, and they paid so much for his services, too..."

Lenesa was distracted by the sound of running feet outside, a desperate slap-slap of leather soles against the wet cobblestones, drawing ever-nearer. Before she had time to fully register the sound, however, the door to the bookstore burst open, and a middle-aged man stumbled inside, panting and shaky from his exertion.

Lenesa swore and turned away, pulling up the hood of her cloak before the man could catch a glimpse of her face. At the same time, the bookkeeper took a defensive step forward, shielding Lenesa and flipping the book closed.

"It's a bit late in the day for a book, Bramthaus," the bookkeeper said. "What's the matter? Is everything all right?"

The man, Bramthaus, shot an apprehensive glance at Lenesa before stepping forward. "My son," he said after a breath, the words gasping from between his teeth. "My son just fell off the ferryman's bridge by the noble's houses, and they pulled him from the river and he's not breathing. I can't afford the doctor. But I've heard—I've heard that you know of someone who might—who could—" he broke off in a barely-contained sob.

Slowly, Lenesa turned back to study the man. His clothes were shabby, much like Theiden's had been, and there were dark circles beneath his eyes. His face was weathered and hair wild, and it looked as though he hadn't had the opportunity to shave for several days.

Lenesa took a step forward, but the bookkeeper grabbed her wrist, giving a small shake of the head that did not go unnoticed by the frantic Bramthaus.

"Who are you?" Bramthaus asked, his desperation making the question more a demand. His hands were shaking with a nervous energy, and his feet shifted against the floorboards, restless to run back to his dying son.

"This someone I am presumed to know," the bookkeeper said slowly, speaking when Lenesa did not, "if they were to help you, you would need to keep their identity a secret. Medicine is a study that the upper class wishes to keep amongst themselves, and the law makes it dangerous for anyone outside of their standing to administer it."

Bramthaus nodded impatiently. "Yes, yes, I promise, not a word. Where can I find him?"

"In addition," the bookkeeper continued, "it is unheard of for women to practice in the field, and so would be doubly as damning should anyone find out their abilities."

Bramthaus froze as the bookkeeper's words took a moment to sink in. Then he slowly turned his gaze back to Lenesa. "You...you're the healer the innkeeper told me about? Who are you?"

"No names," Lenesa said. "You must promise me that. Go get your son and bring him to one of the room's above the Ferryman's Rest, away from any prying eyes. I'll meet you there. And if I find out that you've told anyone of this..."

She let the threat hang, but Bramthaus barely stuck around long enough to hear the end of her words. No sooner had she given the instructions than he had darted back out the door, sprinting back up the street to his son.

In the silence that followed, Lenesa turned back to face the bookkeeper, who was watching her with a sad twinkle in his eyes behind his large spectacles.

"I can't stay much longer then—the boy will need me," Lenesa said. Reluctance tinged her words, and she busied herself with sorting through the contents of her basket to hide her disappointment.

The bookkeeper nodded and picked up the volume before them, handing it to Lenesa. "Be safe. Come back soon."

A reply died on Lenesa's lips, and she merely gave a small smile and set the book in her basket. How could she promise her safety, when she knew it was only a matter of time? For once, a lie couldn't come fast enough, and she turned away without another word, leaving the warmth of the bookstore to step back into the gloomy drizzle outside.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Yayyy another chapter!  And you get to meet the bookkeeper!  What do you think--will Lenesa be able to save Bramthaus's son in time?

On another note, I'm leaving town soon and won't have access to a computer for a while, so updates may slow down for 2-3 weeks.  I may be able to update in-between from my phone, but can't make any promises.

Thank you for reading, please don't forget to vote if you liked this chapter!