Flower of Faith

Chapter 1

“Sage.” I touched the slender green leaves and tall violet blossoms, as if by merely touching them I could imprint them further into my memory. “Can be used for teas and can be burned for a calmin’ effect on the mind and body.”

I leaned further into my garden, my hands sinking down into the moist soil. “Marigold.” My fingers dropped little clumps of dirt onto the full yellow petals. “One o’ the best herbs for healin’ up wounds.”

I noticed a couple of weeds poking their stubborn heads out of the dirt near the stems of the marigolds and tore them up with a sigh. “Dandelion.” I tossed the yellow-headed weeds out. “Leaves’re good for blisters, and good for eatin’.”

I sat back on my feet and rubbed the dirt off my hands. I didn’t know why I felt the need to drill myself every time I was out here in my garden. I knew every flower, every plant, every herb and weed like I knew my own two feet.

I heard a cough from the open window of the little log hut in front of me and looked up. Balciva had her head poked out the window, her dark hair falling on the windowsill and blue eyes twinkling in the dusky light.

“You gonna come in, love?”

“Yeah.” I stood up and brushed the dirt off my skirt. “Jus’ checkin’ my memory.”

She laughed. “We all know who’s gonna win that Healer’s Apprenticeship.”

I grinned. “Can’t be too sure, now.”

I got inside and made up some honey and lemonbalm tea, handing it to Balciva. She took the cup and inhaled with a contented sigh.

“Mmm. Thanks, chickadee.”

I smiled as she sipped it. It wasn’t quite autumn yet, but the chill coming in every night had her coughing and her throat tore up. I was just glad I could do something about it. She’d been my only friend for as long as I could remember, and had practically raised me. It was the least I could do, for her standing by me all those years.

“You really shouldn’t worry so much about that Apprenticeship.”

“I can’t not worry about it,” I said. “It’s my chance to find a place here.”

“You already have a place,” said Balciva. She swirled the tea in the cup. “We’re a big family here. You’ve been raised an Easterner and that’s what you are. It don’t matter one lick what some people think about you. You’ll see.” She took a big swig out of the cup. “That Apprenticeship’s as good as yours.”

“I wouldn’t be too sure.”

My skills weren’t the problem. I’d been interested in healing all my life and had been singing just as long. But while Music was naturally used to help soothe those in pain and to speed the healing brought about by plants and herbs, in my mouth Music held a strange potency, a potency I couldn’t control, a potency that scared people and drove them away from me.

That, coupled with my mismatched eyes, one silver, the other blue-green, slaughtered any chances I had of belonging here, even though I’d been raised here, in a tight-knit refugee camp for Easterners. This was the only place I’d ever known, and it was the only place I’d ever know.

Beyond the borders of the camp expanded an unknown world, filled with Westerners who couldn’t care less what happened to us, poor and strong-minded as we were. If I didn’t get this Apprenticeship, I’d lose what was probably my only chance of fitting in among my own people.

Balciva shook her head. “You’re gonna get yourself all worked up for nothin’. Relax, love.”

I smiled. “I’ll try.”