Over the next few months I work harder than I have ever worked before. All that work makes my brain grow in knowledge of herbs and in knowledge of just how popular Faith is in the village. If anyone has even a minor scratch or a small tummy ache, Faith is the one person they'll go to.

A man enters the shop now. He's a hunchback with a crooked spine that leaves him leaning forward permanently. I feel sorry for him but there's a fire of determination in his watery eyes.

"Good morning," I say politely. "What can I do for you today?"

Faith comes from her bedroom, pinning her greying hair back into place. She sees the man and smiles.

"Aah, Patrick. Yes, your spine."

"I would like some more of that remedy," the old man croaks. "It sure has been helping."

Faith busies herself, taking a pestle and mortar from a shelf. She snaps at me for things like 'juniper berries' and 'thyme' and I slam open drawers, whipping out the packets. I've done this for a few months so there's no need to recall where the herbs are anymore.

Soon Faith has a paste made. I turn round to the man. He's gazing at me a bit too intently. It's the kind of gaze that makes you squirm uncomfortably.

Faith doesn't seem to notice. She spoons the paste into a box and hands it to the man. He gives her a few coins in exchange.

Just as the man is going to leave, he turns round and says, "He's coming for you."

I frown. "Um, who?"

He nods his head. "He's been searching for you for a few months now. Since you left 'im."

Then he lets himself out through the door, hobbling off home. I badly want to yank it open and run out after him, demanding answers and who this 'he' is but deep inside I already know.

I've known it from the start who the 'he' is.

"God," Faith murmurs. "Is the Prince really after you again?"