Chapter 4: Interlude I

INTERLUDE I Merrin Holt Merrin Holt has his routine. Every morning he checks the old spot. He does it before breakfast. Before washing. Before pulling on the work clothes folded across the chair beside his bed. Most mornings he tells himself he is only checking because of the what if? This morning is no different. The first light of Midsummer creeps over the neighbouring roofs as Merrin steps into the small yard behind his home. The stones are still cool beneath his bare feet. Somewhere beyond the houses, he hears Gerome rattling his meat cart down the road. He knows it is Gerome’s meat cart because even a road over he can pick up the pungent smell of heated meat in the air. A few minutes later, a dog barks further along Gerome’s route to the Southern side of the Market. Merrin crouches beside the empty patch near the rear wall. Nothing except a few weeds and a thin curl of moss where yesterday's watering has kept the dirt damp. He pushes the weeds aside anyway. There had been rain three nights ago. Good rain. Steady without being hard enough to wash anything loose. The morning had been warm yesterday, and today promised warmer still. If something beneath the soil had been waiting— Merrin presses two fingers into the earth. Nothing. He sits back on his heels. “Maybe tomorrow.” The words echo back to him, flat. He has said that often enough that the words no longer sound particularly foolish. There was a time when checking this patch had meant something very different. Merrin had been born into a family possessing something most people in the city would never own. A wild Gloom-Oak. The sapling had pushed through the soil beside his parents' house before Merrin was old enough to…