The light crept through the curtains just as Penryn woke from his slumber. He sat up in his bed and stretched. He felt refreshed. More so than usual.

“Woah!” he sang out to the empty room. “What a difference a decent mattress makes.”

It was the first morning in a while where he didn’t feel lethargic upon waking. Of course, he often slept on the hard earth, so perhaps he wasn’t the best judge when it came to a good night of sleep. His last bounty had him following an escaped prisoner’s trail through extremely difficult terrain. He’d slept on dirt, rocks, sand, and by the time he caught up with his target they were both too tired to fight.

In the end, the criminal practically handed himself over. A bed was definitely a welcome comfort after that ordeal.

Penryn’s stomach growled angrily, demanding his attention.

“Alright, alright.”

He got out of bed and dug through his knapsack to find a fresh pair of socks. As he pulled them on, he noticed how oddly smooth the back of his left hand was. He gasped and leapt up.

His old scar had disappeared.

The scar had definitely been there the day before, just as it had been every day for the last three years. Among all the other scars he’d earned in his lifetime, he remembered this scar the most.

He earned it when Uncle Wiley had first brought him into the butcher shop. Wiley originally tried to get Penryn involved in the meat preparation part of the business. He was demonstrating the proper way to clean an elk, but it wasn’t the first time Penryn had seen this. He’d been a hunter most of his life and this was old news.

Uncle Wiley, apparently, wanted it done a specific way for his shop, but Penryn had long tuned him out. Surrounded by blades, he was soon distracted while Wiley was engrossed in his process. Penryn tried tossing one of the knives from one hand to the other behind his back. He’d succeeded a few times before Wiley caught him and shouted, “What are you doing?!”

Startled, Penryn fumbled the knife and nicked the back of his hand with the sharp edge. He’d never forget the scar, just as he’d never forget how furious Wiley had been. That was the real reason he’d been reassigned as a hunter for the butcher shop, but it worked out better that way.

Although small, there was still no way such an old scar could repair itself overnight. Penryn tried to retrace his actions in his mind to figure out what he’d done to get such a healing effect. Then the word “healing” triggered an exciting epiphany: there must be a healer nearby.

His body pulsed with the excitement of the hunt. If he caught a healer, he would be financially set for months. Maybe he could finally afford the magic infused dual blade set he’d been eyeing.

Setting his daydreams aside, he quickly put on his boots and headed down to breakfast, where he cheerfully ordered a feast from the menu.

Marcy was going around to the tables, pouring fresh coffee and chatting with the other guests. She reached Penryn’s table just as he inhaled an entire slice of cinnamon toast.

“Good morning, Penryn. You look like you’re in a good mood. Thank goodness.”

She mumbled that last bit under her breath, still a little salty after he closed the door in her face the previous night.

“Yes, I’ve just had some good news,” he responded as she filled up a cup for him. “I’m sorry, what was your name?”

“Marcy.”

“Marcy, tell me,” his voice dropped down to almost a whisper, “have you seen any suspicious guests?”

“Just you,” she said before she could bite her tongue.

“No, no. I mean anyone you might suspect of…” he dropped his voice and looked around before finishing his sentence. “…healing?”

Marcy spilled a bit of coffee on his last word. Her breathing ceased as she nervously waited for him to say more. He couldn’t know, could he?

His voice dropped even lower and Marcy forced herself to lean in to hear his every word.

“I am a bounty hunter for the Royal Bounty Hunter’s Guild. You might’ve heard of it. It’s my job to capture fugitives and would greatly appreciate it if you could give me any information on the guests. As I recall, you wouldn’t want a criminal in your establishment anyways, so it would kill two birds with one stone.”

Marcy willed herself to maintain composure, despite the urge to run. Had she known he was a bounty hunter, she definitely would’ve passed his room during her healing.

“And what exactly makes you think one of the guests is a healer?” she managed to get out.

“Last night an old scar of mine was healed. I’ve heard that some healers can heal in their sleep, especially during vivid dreams. It must’ve been done with a powerful aura to reach so far. Probably from a room close to mine.”

He waited expectantly for her to give him any hints that could lead him closer to his goal. Though he’d thrown her off at first, Marcy had dealt with this sort of thing before. She just needed to keep her calm.

Regaining her composure, she came up with the most convincing fib she could on such short notice.

“Ah, yes, now that you mention it. There was a guest roaming the halls last night. A Mr. Pembroke, I believe. I asked him what he was doing out of his room, but he never did give me an answer. Seemed awfully skittish, now that I think about it.”

She braced herself for his response, half expecting him to see right through her.

“Mr. Pembroke…” Penryn’s face scrunched up as he tried to remember the guests he’d seen so far. “Is he the fellow with the mustache?” he asked as he scanned the faces in the room, searching for the one he had in mind.

Marcy snapped her fingers.

“The very one!”

Penryn’s palpable excitement to her reply gave Marcy all the confidence she needed to continue with her lie.

“But I’m afraid he’s already left. He did mention earlier that he was headed to Derbinsur, I think it was. It’s a bit of a journey, but I’m sure you can catch up to him if you’re quick enough.”

“Right!” his eyes narrowed as he formulated a plan. “I better get ready to leave.”

Penryn scooped another egg into his mouth, practically swallowing it whole, before springing onto his feet.

“Thank you so much for your help. I’m indebted to you. I promise I won’t forget this.” He took one final swig of his drink. “I’ll leave my key at the front desk in a bit.”

As he gleefully skipped out of sight, Marcy melted into the seat he’d just vacated. Thank goodness he’s an idiot, thought Marcy, as she allowed her breathing to return to normal.

She returned to her work and tried to forget about the incident by keeping herself busy. She didn’t want to think about leaving Chapelwood just yet. It was the longest she’d stayed in one town, and although she was tired of the routine, there was also comfort in the monotony. So, she simply reassured herself the whole thing was just a minor bump in the road and continued on.

The following weeks were quite uneventful at The Chowder Inn. Marcy tried her best to return to business as usual. However, whenever she tried to do her hallway healing at night, she would jump at the slightest sound or movement. The stress of getting caught again was enough to put a kink in her routine, and she found herself distance-healing less and less. The nights she did heal were followed by anxious days, checking over her shoulder and eavesdropping on conversations to make sure nobody had caught on.

As a result of her infrequent healing, business began to lull at the inn as guests discovered just how uncomfortable the mattresses really were. Marcy would’ve felt more guilty about the inn’s reputation plummeting had the innkeeper not been so cheap. She was almost irritated to learn that so much of the inn’s success rested solely on her shoulders.

Without the distraction of her work keeping her busy, her thoughts roamed free, and she didn't like where they wandered off to.

True rest only came when she was once again breathing in the pages of a book at the end of her shift. It was her only escape from herself, but even she couldn’t stay at the library 24/7 and her boss had a thing against reading on the job.

Day by day it felt more like she was waiting out a prison sentence rather than living a life, but she still tried her best to pay the emptiness no mind. When she couldn’t read or keep herself busy, she got in the habit of entertaining herself with made-up stories about the people she crossed paths with at the inn, occasionally adding words to the moving lips she couldn’t hear as they ate in the dining room. The imaginary drama would make her laugh out loud, and then she’d pull herself back into reality.

“I really need to find some friends,” she sighed to herself after imagining the baker was a spy from an opposing kingdom, who passed messages through the ingredients used in his bread.

“Honestly, I think so, too,” said a familiar voice behind her.

Marcy whipped around to meet eyes with the voice. Behind her was the very face she had been hoping never to see again. Penryn looked the same as he had a month ago, but this time without an excited spring in his step. Actually, he looked rather upset. She wondered how long he’d been standing there and how long it would take him to leave.

She forced a smile, “um…hello. Do you need a room, sir?”

“Don’t ‘um hello’ me! Do you know how much trouble you caused me?” Penryn threw his hands up in the air, “I’ve been everywhere! On a wild goose chase because I followed a bum clue.”

“So…I take it you didn’t find your guy?”

He looked flabbergasted. “No, I didn’t find my guy,” he emphasized his words in a mocking tone. “…as you know, I’m sure. It turns out there is no Mr. Pembroke in Derbinsur or anywhere up North.”

“You don’t say. That’s crazy. I could’ve sworn he said Derbinsur, but of course now it’s been so long that I can hardly recall the incident. I wish I had more clues for you, but that’s as much as I know,” she waved him off and quickly shimmied between the tables and chairs of the dining room until she reached the hallway.

After a minute she checked over her shoulder. He was still keeping the same close distance.

“Can I help you with anything?” she asked apprehensively.

“No, no,” he briskly answered with a fake smile. “I’m just continuing my hunt.”

“Then why are you following me?” She threw a fake smile back at him.

“I feel like that’s obvious. You should know that you’re my number one suspect now. Either you are a healer or you’re protecting one. All I need is evidence and I’ll be able to move forward.”

“Ha… well you have nothing to worry about here. I’m a law-abiding citizen and know to report a healer when I see one.”

“I’m sure that’s all true!” he chuckled. “Don’t mind me then. I’ll just be hanging out around the town. I didn’t get to do very much sightseeing last time.”

“Right.” Marcy turned and briskly continued down the hallway and away from Penryn, wishing she could smack that grin right off his stupid face.

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