Chapter 20

It didn't surprise Mary at all to find the place neat and tidy. They passed through the front room where two overstuffed chairs sat, predictably enough, in front of the currently cold fireplace. A basket of knitting and some books sat neatly atop a small wooden table between them, and a thick woven rug lay over most of the floor. Further back was the kitchen, with a small table and chairs on one side and long counter and woodburning stove on the other. There were wooden shelves built in over the counter, and she saw jars and parcels of herbs and other bits stacked neatly onto them. Mary saw one jar that looked as if it contained nothing but some animal's eyes, and she stopped trying to see what was in them as her stomach lurched slightly.

Off one side of the kitchen looked to be a room with lots of windows, where small potted plants sat on ledges beneath them, and clothesline hung across the room with small bunches of herbs clipped to it for drying.

Margaret led Mary to the other side of the kitchen where a small bedroom with two beds in it came into sight just past a flight of stairs. They entered the bedroom and Mary gestured at the beds.

"I keep this room for patients who need to stay here. Once we've got you cleaned up, you can rest in here." She moved across the room and drew the curtains shut. "Let me just go find something you can change into."

"Thank you." Mary said, as Margaret hurried out of the room and up the stairs they had passed. She stood there feeling awkward as she listened to the sound of Margaret above her somewhere, the floor creaking with her footsteps. She took a moment to look herself over, knowing her dress and corset were entirely destroyed. What wasn't shredded was soaked in blood. She could keep the shoes, but the rest of her clothes were ruined. There seemed to be blood drying all over her, including some caking her hair together in some spots. She knew she had never looked this terrible before, and she felt badly that Avern had seen her in such a state.

Mary wanted to sit down, but didn't want to dirty the crisp clean linens on the beds or even the wood of the simple wooden chairs that sat at the foot of each bed. Everything looked perfectly folded and freshly cleaned, and she found herself missing the slightly dusty air of her inn. Mary had never felt so out of place before.

Margaret came back with a bundle of clothes in her hands and wearing a different set of clothes herself. She set them on the foot of one of the beds before going to the kitchen for a pitcher of water, a basin, and some towels. She set them down on the one small table in the room, across from the beds and pulled one of the wooden chairs up to it.

"Why don't you sit here while we get you cleaned up, Mary?"

Mary suddenly realized that Margaret wasn't making eye contact with her. Maybe she feels just as strangely about this as I do, she thought.

"I wouldn't want to get blood on the chair," she blurted out, feeling stupid the moment she said it. Margaret raised an eyebrow at her, finally looking at her again.

"It wouldn't be the first time one of my chairs has been bled on. Besides, you've already tracked blood in on the floor. A little more on the chair won't matter much."

Mary looked down in horror, seeing dark half-shoeprints leading into the room.

"Oh, Margaret! I'm so sorry!" she said. She felt tears starting to well up in her eyes, though she couldn't say why. She fought to keep them back as Margaret took her arm and steered her into the chair.

"It's alright Mary. It will clean up. But you need to sit down for the moment. Please."

Mary felt a wave of weakness wash over her as she sat. She leaned forward in the chair, putting her hands on her knees for support.

"Lynna can close wounds, and make flesh grow back. But I think she can't replace lost blood, and you've lost quite a bit. It's going to take some time to come back. Are you alright to sit there a minute while I start water for soup and for washing?"

Mary nodded. She felt a hand on her shoulder a moment, but she didn't have the strength to lift her head. The hand went away and she heard Margaret leave the room. In the moment of privacy her tears won the struggle for control and they raced down her cheek in celebration of their freedom.

She did manage to keep herself from sobbing outright. It was the best victory she was capable of just then, but she took it. She had never been so close to death since before she had fled and landed here. Memories came back in a torrent of chaotic images. Mostly, though, she remembered the glint in his eyes that so perfectly matched the glint flashing on the blade. Cold steel. Cold eyes.

At the time it had been the most terrifying thing she had ever seen. He had been the most evil man she had experienced. Today she was no longer so certain. She knew she would never forgive Jacob Bentz. It was not something she decided. It was something she realized. She did not have the strength for anger or rage. She shivered, and she clutched what she had of her dress, and the good captain's jacket, around her to ward off a chill that was within her and not in the room.

It seemed to take forever for Margaret to come back. She tried to focus on the sounds coming from the kitchen - the quiet rattle of pots and the scuff of the healer's shoes as she moved across the floor. She thought she could hear the sound of her own heart beating in her chest, and tears falling off of her chin and hitting the torn and crumpled layers of fabric that lay across her knees. Try as she might, she couldn't seem to make them stop. Her hands, still resting on her knees, were covered in dried blood. She stared at them as if they weren't really hers, almost wondering where the blood had come from.

"Mary?" Margaret's voice startled her, and she looked up to find her setting the other chair down facing the one Mary sat on. She poured some water into the basin from a kettle, and then added water from the pitcher until she seemed satisfied with the temperature. Mary noticed that she'd brought a tray from the kitchen this time, and along with the kettle were a couple of soup bowls and spoons. Margaret took one of the smaller towels and the basin and sat down in front of Mary, dipping one edge of the towel into the water.

"You'll feel better once you're cleaned up, Mary." Margaret gently started to wipe Mary's face, the wet towel feeling soft and warm. She sat there weakly and allowed the healer to take care of her, feeling helpless to either assist or resist. Margaret cleaned up Mary's face and neck before helping Mary to undress. Mary stood there, dazed and shivering, tears still steadily rolling down her face as Margaret washed her and helped her into some fresh clothes. She was surprised to find that the dress didn't come all the way up to cover half her throat, as the ones Margaret usually wore always did. It was a soft blue dress, with low modest skirts, but a lightly scooping neckline that showed some of the collarbone. It was snug without a corset, but not restraining. Margaret had her sit down again, after she'd dropped a towel over the chair. Mary smoothed out the skirts and looked them over as Margaret unpinned Mary's hair and started to dampen the blood-soaked areas and comb them out.

"Is this Elsa's?" she suddenly asked, curiosity overcoming her.

"No, it's mine." She answered quietly.

"I've never seen you wear it. You usually dress so - " Mary stopped, not wanting to offend the woman. She looked up to see a faraway look on Margaret's face as she worked the comb through Mary's hair.

"Prudishly?"

"I didn't mean it that way..." Mary tried.

"Yes you did. And it's generally true. The woman who once wore that dress was very different than the one that stands here now. But we all seem to have our secrets, don't we. A person might wonder where you got that scar, for example." She levelled her eyes at Mary.

Mary hadn't realized that she'd stopped crying until the tears welled up in her eyes again. Margaret sat down on the chair across from her and set the comb down to take one of Mary's hands.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you again. Why don't we have some soup?" She took one of the spoons and pressed it into Mary's hand, holding out a bowl for the other.

At first, the smell of it almost turned her stomach. But that passed quickly, overwhelmed by hunger. The temperature was just right. She went after it enthusiastically.

"Easy, now," Margaret warned. She took up the other bowl and started eating more civilly than Mary felt ready for. Mary slowed down just a little. The soup was delicious. She wondered if it really was as good as she thought or whether it was the hunger influencing her.

"So I suppose they've finished the lunchtime meeting by now," Margaret suggested.

"I suppose," Mary agreed between spoonfuls. She looked around the room again, feeling awkward without understanding why.

"What's the matter, Mary?"

"Oh, nothing," Mary answered, looking down at her soup. Half of it was still left, but her appetite had faded away. "Still early in the day--quite a bit of it left yet--and what a day it's already been."

"How is Avern holding up?"

"What do you mean?"

"I see how you two look at each other. I haven't seen him look at anyone like that before. So I think maybe you know him a little better than most right now. I mean, he's the mayor, but how well do we really know him? But that's not the point.

"He's under a lot of pressure. And he's private, so it's harder for me to tell how he's holding up under it. And apparently it's going to get worse before it gets better.

"And then there's the town. Let's face it, Mary, sooner or later something is going to snap with Agmar and now Lynna around. Sooner or later someone's going to do something stupid."

"I agree that tensions are high right now, Margaret, but this town generally knows how to pull together in a crisis," Mary said. "That's part of what I love about it here."

"We've never faced something like this before," Margaret replied. "I didn't want to believe. I couldn't afford the risk if Agmar was telling the truth, but I did hesitate. Seeing that thing tear its way out of that woman this morning - those women would have died today if I hadn't acted as I did last night." Margaret sighed and set her bowl on the tray, shaking her head. "I'm worried. I'm sure I'm not the only one who's doubted. There are some people in town who view magic as something evil. They might decide to put the blame for all of this onto Agmar, instead of being thankful he's come to help us. Although I'm less worried about Agmar than I am about Lynna. Avern was right to keep Lynna's abilities hidden all these years."

"You think someone might try to hurt her?"

"I don't know. There are certain people who will likely call her names and stand against her though. I'd expect that to include most of the same people who've protested loudest against your presence here. Bentz especially. That man seems to think any gold coin coming into this town belongs to him, and anything standing between him and his profits is evil and ought to be dealt with somehow. Did you know he charges me a higher price for seed because I don't buy all my herbs through him? He doesn't like me growing my own supply. I've resorted to quietly buying some of my seed through the caravan merchants, but they are afraid he'll find out and refuse to do business with them. And, after what he did to you today, I wouldn't put it past him to try something against Agmar or Lynna if the opportunity presents itself."

Mary looked at Margaret for a moment.

"You're certainly keeping an eye on everyone right now, aren't you?"

"It can't hurt to be prepared. I generally try to keep track of what's going on with people anyway, it helps me know who else might be taken ill if someone comes to me suffering from something contagious, for example."

"And I thought Mrs. Margolen was the main source for gossip in town," Mary chuckled, somewhat wryly.

"Elizabeth Margolen is a great source of gossip. I have tea with her once a week, where she shares all manner of tidbits with me, actually."

"I'd hate to think of what the two of you have to say about me." Mary turned and carefully set her bowl down on the tray with a sigh. "Mrs. Margolen has never approved of my inn. I believe she referred to it once as a den of snakes and sinners."

"Elizabeth is over seventy years old and a spinster who's never been kissed, much less been to bed with a man. I wouldn't exactly consider her the final word on the town's opinion of you Mary," Margaret replied. "Is that what's bothering you right now then? What the town is going to think if they find out that you and Avern are developing a fondness for one another?"

"I don't know," she said, shaking her head. "Maybe it's just natural, given the circumstances."

"Mary, it isn't supposed to require unusual circumstances." Margaret chuckled before taking one of the last sips of her soup. "I never thought I'd find myself lecturing you of all people on this subject."

"Lecturing?" Mary raised an eyebrow. "I do know how matters of the heart generally work. But I think feelings for Avern aren't exactly new, and I think the same goes for him." Why are you telling her this?

"Ah, so the real concern is whether people will disapprove of their mayor growing attached to you?" Margaret paused to take the last of her soup. "Maybe that's not up to you."

Margaret put her bowl down and looked hard into Mary's eyes. Mary managed to not look away immediately. She could not manage it long, however.

"You see, Mary, you can't control what others are going to think. You can try to be someone else to try to make people like you, or you can be yourself and let them come to like you for who you are. Give Avern enough credit to take care of what people think of him on his own. If he likes you and approves of you, then you don't need that from anyone else.

"Now, if you were concerned about what people would think of you being involved with the mayor...that you could worry about for yourself if you wanted. But what people think of Avern? That's not your decision." Margaret took the two bowls and the tray and left without another word.

Mary sat quietly, the events of the day slipping around in circles in her mind until Margaret returned.

"Margaret," she said when the healer turned to start cleaning up the remaining items on the small table, "thank you." Margaret turned to look at her.

"Mary -"

"Not just for today, Margaret. Though I am truely grateful for that too. I know you've never really approved of me or my inn, but you've never turned any of the girls I've employed there away when they've needed your help. I just wanted you to know that I've always appreciated that." She felt tears trying to pool in her eyes again and tried to keep them back.

"Mary..." Margaret sat down across from her again. "I don't think I disapprove so much as you think I do. I have a past I've left behind, like a lot of people in this town do. So I try not to be too judgemental of other people's choices. If you've felt that I do disapprove, then I'm sorry. I'm not saying I'd endorse the goings-on at your inn, just that it's not a choice I would make for myself." She sighed. "And when I started mixing herbs and tending people's wounds, I swore to myself I would never turn someone away who really needed help. Even if I didn't agree with all of their choices. I don't think you're a bad person, Mary. In fact, quite the opposite."

Mary felt the first fresh tear break over the and roll down her cheek, and she lowered her head to hide the rest that followed.

"Mary?" Margaret's hand pressed over one of Mary's. "What is it?"

"I nearly died today, Margaret. With the exception of my inn, everywhere I go in this town I feel somewhat awkward and out of place. Genla is the closest I have to a friend and even she won't separate out the fact that I'm her employer. I've been here ten years and I still feel like an outsider. If I had died today, no one would miss me. I wouldn't be surprised if a few people rejoiced."

"What about Avern?"

"What if Avern is just needing someone right now with all that's going on? What if when this is all over he changes his mind?" She was sobbing now, the words tumbling out of her before she could even consider them. "What if he wakes up a few days from now and wonders what he was thinking, taking up with the town whore?"

"Mary!" Margaret took her by the shoulders and shook her slightly. "I know you tell those girls of yours to think better of themselves than that! Why in the world would you start to think that of yourself?"

Mary stopped for a moment, trying to collect herself. What's wrong with me today? she chided herself.

"I'm sorry. You're right." She sat up and ran her fingers over her face to try and dry the tears. "I've just got a lot of old memories mingling in with today's events is all."

"You've had quite a day," Margaret reminded her. "All things considered, I'd say you're doing well."

Mary smiled despite herself. "If you say so."

"I do. But I also think you're going to need some time to lay down and rest. Here probably isn't the best place today, though."

"No, you're right about that. I should get back to my inn."

"Just remember that resting means resting...not trying to run everything and do everything yourself," Margaret teased.

"Alright, alright...I'll tell Marcus to make sure I take it easy."

Margaret gave her an odd look as if expecting one of the tacky jokes that passers-through sometimes made. Obviously it didn't come, although Mary supposed she was off-normal enough to do something out of character.

Mary took some time to comb out her hair more, and Margaret finished the last of the cleanup. Mary watched her gathering the bits of bloody cloth, and cleaning up the floor, and it was hard not lending a hand. Again she felt guilty for causing so much trouble. She pushed the feeling back, knowing she wasn't supposed to feel guilty about it. She sighed loudly, but Margaret didn't ask about it.

She wished she had a mirror handy as she finished combing out the last tangles, but she wasn't about to trouble Margaret for one. She set the comb on the small table and slipped her feet back into her shoes before standing up slowly, testing herself as she did. She was relieved to find that she felt much more stable than she had before.

What all was in that soup, I wonder? she thought to herself. She wouldn't put it past Margaret to have given her some herbal remedy or other in her soup without mentioning it.

"Thank you again, Margaret. I should get out of your way." She reached over and picked up Captain Syred's jacket, draping it gingerly over her arm so as to not get any blood on Margaret's dress. "I'll ask one of my girls to clean this up so I can return it. I should have your dress back to you sometime tomorrow if that is alright?"

"No hurry," Margaret chuckled, "it's not as if I wear it. Whenever it's convenient will be fine. Will you be alright to get back?"

Mary nodded.

"It's not far. I'll take it slowly, barring any more possessed animals or demonic entities, I ought to be fine." She gave Margaret a smile. "The way things are going, you're probably needed elsewhere by now so I don't want to continue to monopolize your time."

She turned and left, still feeling awkward and wishing she could have helped clean up. She closed the door softly behind her and made her way down the road towards her inn. She decided she would comandeer one of the comfortable stuffed couches in the lobby for herself and still be available to make decisions and keep an eye on everything.

She found herself surrounded by people as she headed up to the steps of her inn. Genla, Marcus, and most of the girls who worked there came rushing out, asking questions and making sure she was alright.

News sure travels fast around here, she thought to herself, sighing. A comment about Jacob Bentz caught her attention, and she made note of who said it before asking Marcus to move one of the couches for her. While she waited, she turned to the girl for more information.

"What about Bentz?" she asked.

"The town split into two big groups!" the girl, Nicole, said breathlessly. "Most of them stayed on the mayor's side, but a few hundred went with Bentz. Arden Moore says they're all going to die because they've refused the wizard's help. Kyle Inger says they're smart because Agmar's really the one that's doing all this and that he's already turned the mayor's daughter into a witch! But he's staying on the mayor's side because his captain said he had to."

"Nicole, slow down. Marcus, thank you." Mary sank gratefully into the couch Marcus had pushed aside for her. "Were you at the meeting then, Nicole?"

"Oh no! I was very busy!" She gave Mary a wink, to which Mary smiled and nodded, trying hard not to sigh. "But I took care of Arden right when he got back, and he always likes to talk about stuff, he thinks it impresses me or something," she rolled her eyes "and then Kyle was after him and he was all unhappy about it. I asked him what was wrong when he was kinda rough, so he told me about it."

Mary looked at Nicole for a moment while she bit down on her comments. Nicole was good for business, but Mary had come to understand just why her previous employers had been able to take advantage of her so badly. The girl was literally clueless, and seemed to assume that prositution was her calling. Her naivety had gotten her into enough trouble that Mary had found her at a slave market, where she'd paid to outbid a pirate captain for the girl. She'd had it on good authority that the captain had intended to buy Nicole to service his entire crew. Mary still wondered if Nicole would have actually minded or not.

"Thank you, Nicole," she finally said, looking over the chaos in her lobby. "Why don't you take a break and see if you can be of some help in the kitchen." She waited as the girl bobbed her head up and down in agreement and hurried off, before turning to look in more detail at the state of affairs in her lobby.

Marcus had evicted someone to get the couch for Mary. Bedrolls and blankets lay scattered across the floor and other couches and chairs. People sat on most of them, talking in pairs or groups. Some of them seemed to be looking about with some distaste, although seemed to be talking calmly amongst themselves, and a few seemed to take quick glances over at Mary, and then whisper to their companions. Mary had to wonder if it was her reputation or her recent injuries they were discussing. She brushed it aside for now, and turned to talk to Genla instead. Genla's eye was twitching slightly, and Mary prepared herself for an onslaught of complaints. She only hoped she could get solid details of the meeting from someone who'd been there. Her curiosity was already getting the better of her.

Genla pulled around a chair so they could both be seated. Mary was grateful not to have to peer up at her.

"I don't recall seeing that dress before," Genla teased.

"Nor me," Mary replied and chuckled. "Don't worry, it's only on loan."

"It didn't strike me as your normal preference, so I didn't think it was some recent purchase. Unless, of course, you're suddenly trying to change your image about town..."

"Genla," Mary warned.

"Alright. Alright. --We've heard about what happened. I get to be the first to say we're all glad to see you back safe."

"Only barely. And only thanks to Syred and Lynna. Margaret has been...very kind to me." She hoped Genla wouldn't pess for details. She wanted the uncomfortableness of it behind her. She wanted life to get back to normal. She wondered if it ever could.

"Well, that's Margaret. Has anyone ever seen her unkind?"

"There was one time Genla...but that's not my story to tell."

"You've held back on me? I'm shocked." Genla's exaggerated attempt at the proper expression was almost comical.

"Genla, the day you're shocked by anything is the day I take up the church. But enough of this. What is it you're trying not to say?"

"Honestly? We're way beyond capacity at this point Mary. I don't know how we're going to feed all these people. We're double-bunked and people are sleeping on the lobby floor, as you can see. Some of the girls are using this to make as much money as possible, which is irritating the piss out of the few townsfolk staying here. Some of the others are trying overly hard to look downright pious in front of the townsfolk, to the point where they are pretending offense when one of the sailors solicits them. Marcus has broken up three fights already, I've inventoried everything in our pantry and cellar and we ought to run out of food halfway through tonight's dinner, and I just heard that Jacob Bentz and a bunch of men took all the food from his store and moved it into a warehouse they've holed up in after he and Avern Mordan had it out at the meeting."

Genla stopped and exhaled slowly, attempting to maintain her composure.

"Mary, what's happening to this town? Nobody is acting like they normally do. Everyone seems either panicked or angry, and I feel like this inn is going to explode at any moment, without that wizard's help. I heard about Lloyd's Tavern by the way, but I heard you were over there not long after, so you know better than I what happened there."

"Yes, I do," Mary nodded. "But what I want to know is if we had anyone at the meeting? I was recovering at Margaret's, so I didn't get to be there. I'm hearing something about a town split?"

"I sent Alexis. She's seems like the only one of the girls who's actually still got her head on straight. She said that Bentz challenged Avern, saying he's been harboring a witch all these years, more or less, and Agmar stepped forward and called for a vote. He said he'd leave and take Lynna, Avern, and you, actually, with him if the town voted magic out. A few hundred apparently sided with Bentz, but Mordan got the majority. Bentz and his supporters have been told they have to ask before Agmar will help them, otherwise they are on their own. They're holed up in one of the smaller warehouses. I just heard, though, that they cleaned out Bentz's store too. I hope the bastard rots! Especially since I heard he turned his back and refused to help you when that dog attacked?"

"You heard right on that count." Mary sighed heavily. "This all just keeps going from bad to worse, doesn't it?"

"It's just a few days," Mary said, hoping it sounded reassuring. "Let's keep supper a little lighter to stretch through it. I'll talk to Avern and see about getting us more supplies for tomorrow.

"We need to make sure people stay awake, so we'll need to plan how to do that. Groups'll help, because people can help each other stay awake. I think maybe activities of some kind would be a good idea. Maybe we can come up with something to encourage some camaraderie...although not the normal sort we offer up."

Genla laughed at that. "Yeah, that wouldn't help keep the men awake, that's for sure!"

"Talk to some of the older girls for me, would you?" Mary asked. "if you can gather some suggestions for ways to keep everyone occupied--distracted--I think that'll make the next couple days easier.

"In the mean time, I'll ask Avern about the winter silos. They're technically town property, so Bentz shouldn't have gone after them. If he has, Avern has grounds to take stuff back at least. They're probably not deeply stocked, but they could probably keep us in bread through this."

"Yup," Genla agreed with a thoughtful nod, "dipping into the emergency stock is probably warranted."

"Tonight, tomorrow, and the day after that. Then I think everyone'll be able to go home." And everyone can relax finally

"Long few days. Just be glad you never hired me by the hour..."

"Usually I tell people I hired you for your sense of humor."

"Oh, and I suppose for Marcus it was his story-telling?"

"Well...you'll just have to ask him, won't you? --So you'll be alright here for an hour or so while I run to the Surf and Sleep?"

"I'll manage," she replied, glancing aprehensively around the room. "Just try not to be too long? This is a riot waiting to happen and I don't want to be the only voice of reason if it turns sour. Oh, and um," she leaned in closer and whispered into Mary's ear, "Marcus has already started watering down the liquor, as a few people looked like they were going to be hitting the juice hard. He's made up a new drink that he's put up a cheaper price on with a sign at the bar. It's a combination of small amounts of brandy and rum mixed with coffee if I'm understanding right, so it will hopefully keep people from drinking so much as they pass out. People still have to pay for the liquor, but we're making up coffee and teas for free. Assuming that's alright with you?"

"A little alcohol now to soothe nerves is fine, and handing out coffee and tea is an excellent idea. I'd suggest to Marcus that he close the bar early tonight though, and we might actually want to lock down the liquor altogether for tomorrow, when things are at their worst. Maybe have a day where drinks are free for a few hours two days from now to celebrate. This evil can affect people enough that I'd worry about anyone truely drunk. Warn Marcus on that count, so he can cut people off early."

"Right. Got it." Genla nodded. "Anything else, boss?" She gave Mary a grin.

"Actually, if you could have this jacket washed up so I can return it to Captain Syred later, I'd appreciate it. I'll also need this dress washed later as well. I think I'll change out of it before I head over to the Surf and Sleep, actually. My track record with getting blood on my clothes is bad enough right now that I think I'd rather not ruin Margaret's dress."

"That's Margaret Gretch's?" Genla looked at her in disbelief.

"Yep," Mary chuckled and nodded. "Part of her not-so-sordid past. At least I can't imagine Margaret having ever done anything particularly sinful, even in this dress. It may be a little bit more daring for her, showing some neckline and all, but it's hardly tawdry." She stood up and brushed the skirts off. "Speaking of which, I'll just run up and change into something a little less demure now."

She took her time heading to the stairs, hearing Genla laughing lightly as she made her way back to the kitchens. Mary stopped at each floor, listening to the different sounds as she made her way to her own room. Some people were even sitting in the hallways, just outside of their rooms, talking to one another. On one floor she heard the sounds of one of her girls working, and she made a mental note to see what the arrangements on those rooms had been made.

They have beds, and some of the sailors likely won't mind sleeping in them, even if they'll have to actually sleep. She continued on her way, also thinking that she hadn't liked hearing that one of the men had started to be a little rough. What if this fear and anger swells? There's a lot of men here I've not met before. Some of the girls could get hurt. She decided she would have to hold a staff meeting when she returned, make sure the girls understood to be watching for signs even more avidly right now.

She changed clothes quickly, feeling a strange relief as she tightened the corset around herself. Despite the feeling of restriction that always came with wearing one, she felt as if it bolstered her sense of confidence in that she suddenly felt more herself just wearing it. She slipped into a fresh dress, choosing one based on it's washability this time, and then brushed and re-pinned her hair. She still felt a bit like she needed a proper bath after all that had happened so far, but instead she chose to dab a small amount of perfume behind her ears, on her wrists, and between her breasts. Once she was satisfied with her appearance, she made her way downstairs and outside again, after stopping briefly to drop off Margaret's dress for cleaning.

Walking through the empty streets once more she was more nervous than she had been before. The town split? It just didn't make sense. This was a town that banded together in crisis. It didn't divide itself. But it had. One of the fundamental truths of her town had fallen apart.

Her footsteps seemed to echo too loudly. Eyes watched her from corners, or peered through shutters. She stopped and turned suddenly, but she could not find anyone following her. She quickened her pace.

Half way there she had to stop and catch her breath. Then she remembered she was supposed to be resting. Margaret's not going to let me get off easy on this... But what could she do? People needed her. Her people. Her girls and her guests.

"Mary..."

She whirled about, looking for the voice. It wasn't a familiar one. It had echoed, almost as if someone was looking for her. She was reminded of last winter, helping people search the woods for a little boy that had wandered off and gotten lost. He was off one of the ships...what was his name again? She could remember the way her voice echoed back to her, but not the name she had been calling out.

"Mary."

Shorter this time, like someone at a party trying to get her attention. She whirled again. It had sounded closer this time. Suddenly she thought that maybe it was something she didn't want finding her. For a second time today she ran through the town as fast as she could.

By the time she managed to stumble her way up the few steps onto the porch of the Surf and Sleep, Mary thought her heart was about to pound its way out of her chest entirely. She was finding it difficult to breathe, and the world seemed to spin on a slight angle to her. She grabbed at the doorframe and pulled herself into the safety of the inn's lobby, heedless of the eyes and voices that seemed to be gathering around her. She found herself lurching as she headed towards the surprised-looking young man sitting at the small front desk, but the desk seemed to dangle just out of reach and suddenly she found herself trying to keep her head up so she wouldn't hit her face on the wooden floor beneath her. She lay there for a moment, stunned to find herself on the floor at all. Voices were all around her, some whispering and others calling her name or calling for Margaret or Elsa. She put her face in her arms, wishing she could hide from all of the eyes. One voice stood out from the rest as one she recognized clearly.

"Mary? Stott, help me." Lynna's voice seemed to envelope Mary like a warm blanket, and Mary wondered idly if the girl was using magic to have that effect. Hands moved across her arms and she found herself being helped to sit up. A cool damp rag was dabbed against her forehead while someone else helped her to raise a cup of something tasting like fruit juice to her lips. Mary kept her eyes closed, not wanting the world to sway in front of her again just yet. She heard Elsa's voice, shooing people out of the foyer.

"I thought I told you to rest." Margaret Gretch's voice was distinct, and a touch louder than the others around her. "Lynna, a couple people were burned before Agmar was able to get that cookfire out. He suggested you could heal them. He's gone to the other locations to make sure all other fires are put out now, before something worse happens. Elsa, if you could inventory what's left of the dry herbs I had hanging in there, and the jars as well - I think I saw one break - and make me a list of what I'll need to get more of from home if we have it?"

"Yes mother."

"Good. Stott, help me get Mary here to one of those matresses for the moment. What were you thinking, Mary? You're not up for more than a short, slow-paced walk right now." The hands took the glass gently from hers and the cloth disappeared as the hands shifted beneath her.

"I've got her, Mrs. Gretch." She heard Stott's voice as his strong arms lifted her up off of the floor. She opened her eyes for a moment, but closed them again as the world still seemed to weave blurrily to and fro. She felt herself being set down gently onto a matress, and she had an almost overwhelming urge to turn on her side and take a nap.

"Mary? Coffee or tea? Which do you prefer?" Mary felt Margaret gently slap her on the cheeks. She wasn't positive, but she thought she heard Margaret swear quietly too.

"Coffee, please." She mumbled. The cool cloth returned to her forehead. She wanted to make it go away so she could sleep.

"Why were you running Mary? Tell me what happened?" Mary felt pillows being placed behind her, propping her up some.

"There was a voice. I don't know." She shook her head, feeling unsure now of what she'd heard and felt before.

"Maybe I heard something. Maybe I'm just exhausted and afraid. I don't know anymore. What's happening to this town? A split? That's not like us...it's uncharacteristic."

"Uncharacteristic for Eagle's Harbor, yes," Avern said, "but maybe not for Jacob Bentz."

"He is a man easily consumed by negativity. That makes him as easy target for evil." Mary hadn't seen Agmar in the room before. Where does he keep coming from?

Then again, Lynna was here, and Agmar never seemed to be far from her. He never seemed far from anything, did he? But where had he been at Bentz's?

She was being sat up more. Her head swam. There were a lot of people around her, and they were not all faces she recognized. "Alright," Agmar said, shooing most of them out of the room, "please allow her some space."

Coffee was put in her hands. She held the cup with both hands, afraid of spilling it. The cup wasn't as warm as she expected to be, but her hands were not very steady. Lynna helped her bring it up to drink.

The coffee had a slightly off taste, and she looked to Margaret questioningly. She suspected there was something added to it, but Margaret let no clues show on her face. Mary didn't press the subject. She did not have the energy to care.

Agmar stepped forward and knelt down next to the mattress, looking at Mary intently.

"What did you see Mary? What exactly frightened you?"

Mary shook her head at him.

"I didn't see anything. It was more a feeling. I felt like I was being watched, and then I thought I heard a strange voice calling my name as if it was echoing in the distance. And then I heard it again, but closer. But I'm not exactly at my best right now, Agmar. I may have just imagined the whole thing. With the way things are right now, I ran anyway."

Agmar nodded slowly, his hands steepled beneath his chin.

"Nonetheless, it should be noted. It would be better to warn people of the possibility now, rather than ignore it. I shall mention it when warning about the fires. I had best return to that task." He stood up and turned to Avern. "If anyone else reports anything strange - voices, seeing things, anything out of the ordinary - I would like to know about it. This thing is stronger than I had anticipated, and the more I know the better I can hope to judge just how strong it really is."

"I'll try to spread the word," Avern replied.

"Good. I will be back as soon as I can. Lynna should remain here for the moment, to help with any healing that needs to be done." Agmar turned and strode out of the room. Mary noticed, with some surprise, that his feet made no noise on the floor despite his long stride.

"I should go heal the people in the kitchen," Lynna said, watching the wizard leave before turning and heading towards the kitchen. Stott followed her.

"You stay put, Mary," Margaret said. "Finish the coffee. I need to be in the kitchen as well for a short while. Avern, will you make sure she doesn't run off?"

Mary nearly chuckled at the guilty smile that appeared on Avern's face at the suggestion. He looks like he's been caught with his hand in the cookie jar! She quickly sipped at her coffee to hide her amusement. Apparently, the look wasn't entirely lost on Margaret either.

"She's to rest Avern. Perhaps you two can have some nice conversation." The herbalist walked out of the room rolling her eyes but smiling, as Mary watched Avern's ears turn somewhat red. He looked over at her, and she watched his face cloud over with concern.

"Are you sure you're alright?" He sat down on the edge of the mattress beside her, looking as if he was trying to read her eyes. She realized that she felt a little bit giddy at his proximity, and wanted to throw herself into his arms. She saw some people peering into the doorway from the lobby and restrained herself, reminding herself that it was the mayor who sat next to her.

"I'll be fine, Avern. I did come here to talk to you, actually. I heard Bentz cleaned out the store, which means that we're going to run out of food at my inn either tonight or tomorrow morning, depending on how far we can stretch what we have. We were wondering if there was any way we could supplement from the storage silos? Although if we can't cook the grain, I don't know how much good that will do after all."

"If it weren't for the fact that she's my daughter, I almost wish Lynna had killed Bentz. I'd never realized what a selfish bastard the man really was until now."

Mary watched one of his hands clench up into a fist, and she rested her coffee cup on her lap so that she could place her hand over it.

"Believe me, I don't think I will ever forgive that man. But we can deal with him after all this is over. In the meantime we need solutions to the food shortage." She felt his hand unclench and his fingers wrap around hers.

"I agree. I spoke with Agmar about the possibility of Syred and I gathering some men and going in to take part of the store's stock back, but Agmar said that if it turned violent it would get quickly out of control. We'd likely do more damage than good. The men on that ship went crazy just slaughtering some animals, and Agmar said it would be best to just leave that group alone until they ask for our help. He seems certain that they will at some point." Avern sighed. "I've never seen things get like this before. This town always pulls together in a crisis." He shook his head and Mary saw a sadness and slight disbelief in his eyes.

"And we will pull together," he said. "Bentz's group is a small minority. I've been thinking about it, and I think we'll see quite a few of them come back."

"How ugly was the meeting, Avern?"

"It wasn't the most pleasant. But it seemed like a fair number of those who went with Bentz were hesitant. Sure, there were a few with strong feelings. But I think many went with him because of his monetary influence.

"Yeah, they've got plenty of food and supplies. But we can hold out a couple days on light rations if we need. But we have a lot that they don't have. Syred and his crew--strong men we can count on in a crisis. Healing and medicines--when Bentz's people get hurt, they'll start coming back here for help. And we'll take them in.

"What makes me saddest is something Agmar hinted at. The evil can manipulate some people easier than others. The more bitter, angry, jealous, or fearful people are, the easier it is to affect them. When it comes down to it, Bentz's group is a nice tight collection of what the evil is probably going to see as easy sport.

"Oh, gods, you're right." The coffee cup grew heavier in Mary's hands at the realization. "They're so doomed. We have to do something..."

"What can we do. They don't want our help. Agmar mentioned he'd try to monitor them for signs of great troubles. No, I think they'll be coming back. Some maybe as early as this evening."

"I hope you're right," she replied.

They sat there quietly for a moment, Avern seeming to be deep in thought, while Mary sipped at the coffee. She wondered just how far they could stretch the food if cookfires could no longer be used. She noted, wryly, that her coffee had already cooled considerably in her cup. I suppose I'd better get used to things like cold coffee for the moment.

"Lloyd Marks!" Avern said suddenly, startling her from her thoughts.

"What? Where?" Mary looked around for Marks' scowling face.

"No, not him - I think he may have died in the explosion - but his inn! Or rather, the cellar beneath it! He may not have served food at his inn, but I once spoke to a cargo ship captain who told me that Marks tended to order enough food that he could have added meals if he ever wanted to. The man thought Marks was paranoid of something. I didn't look into it before - what Marks does with his money is no concern of mine unless it causes a problem somehow - but if that cellar is intact under the rubble..." He trailed off, and Mary could see him mentally counting how many people it would take to move the debris.

"Agmar turned it into rubble in the first place, from what I understood anyway. Perhaps he has a way to move the debris quicker too?" she suggested.

"Maybe... I should - um..." He looked at her, looking torn on where he needed to be just then.

"Go!" She gave him a teasing push with her hand. "Go run the town, Mr. Mayor. I'm fine right here."

"Are you sure? You have to promise to rest..."

"I promise! Go!" she laughed.

He stood up and moved halfway across the room from her before he stopped and looked back. He stood there, looking at her with such intensity that she felt herself blushing under his gaze. He suddenly strode the few steps back to her, knelt down beside her, and kissed her deeply. She knew that if she'd been standing, her knees would have been a bit wobbly when he moved away. She heard murmurs coming from the hallway.

"Stay safe," Avern said quietly.

"You too," she replied, feeling as if there was more they exchanged than merely the words they were speaking. She knew what she meant by her own words, and Avern's eyes seemed to be sharing the same feeling.

He rose again and turned back towards the foyer, moving quickly across the floor and out of the room. Mary sat alone for a while, quietly smiling as she sipped her coffee and basked in the warm afterglow of his kiss.