she said, “you’ve got an incredible nerve. That was magnificent.” He ducked his head, reaching for a sponge and a wide-mouthed jar of some kind of cream. “I did what I had to do,” he muttered. “You forced them to listen.” Prue shook her head, bemused. “I’m only just beginning to understand. You never give up, do you? On anything?” “No, Mistress Prue, I don’t.” Erik drew the sponge across his cheek. “I can’t,” he said. “Especially not now. One Leaf is bad enough. What if there are others? Think of the bridges that link them. The potential for disaster beggars the imagination.” “I saw the first purplemist tree in bloom today. It’ll be storm sea son soon.” He didn’t move a muscle. “Is that bad?” Prue cleared her throat. “Could be. Can you still smell it . . . whatever it is?” “Only when the wind changes.” Erik got busy with the sponge. “It’s getting fainter the more the tide turns.” She folded her hands together to keep them from trembling.
