The Springborn

CALDER

A fter lunch, Sparrow slips her arm through mine and steers me into the house’s library. The boys’ school books are scattered on the floor and the table. My heart sinks as I realize Yonaz will never teach them again. He did love tormenting his foster children with mathematics and long spelling words.

A tutor will have to be hired soon, before the boys turn altogether wild. Heaven knows I’d make a dreadful teacher—and Robbie would be no better.

Sparrow shuts the door firmly behind us and gives me a serious look that makes me feel all of five years old. I’m about to break out in hives like I did when I was small and anxious. I scratch my face and ask, “Am I in trouble?”

“I need your help,” she says. She sits on the sofa and pats the cushion to invite me to join her. “Before Delphine died, she whispered something in my ear. She told me you know where the spring is.”

I stop scratching my face to scratch my neck instead. I fix my eyes on a cobweb hanging in the corner. “I, uh…”

She grabs my non-scratching hand with her thin fingers. “I have no time for games, Calder. You cannot pretend you don’t know.”

“But—”

“No questions, no debate. This is important. Will you take me there?”

A spark of hope leaps to life inside me. “Did Delphine say the waters could heal you?”

“I cannot tell you the secrets she told me. An enchantment prohibits my mouth from speaking them. All I can say is that I must go, and you must take me as soon as it can be arranged.”

The woman should take up gambling. Her face is inscrutable. Now I can’t decide if I should be optimistic or sick with dread. My innards vote for sick. “I will take you,” I say.

Blast it all, Sabella is going to hate me for this, I just know it.

“Help me up,” Sparrow says. Once she’s on her feet, she stands on her tiptoes to kiss my cheek—which only makes me feel worse. Is this a pre-goodbye kiss or a simple thank you?

I scratch my arms. Both of them at once.

“Come to the kitchen with me,” she says. “I have a balm to soothe that itch.”