“What are you doing?” Conor said. “The Apotho-whatever is the bad guy!”
Is he? asked the real monster behind him. There was a crash as the second monster knocked down the parsonage’s front wall.
“Of course he is!” Conor shouted. “He refused to help heal the parson’s daughters! And they died!”
The parson refused to believe the Apothecary could help, said the monster.
When times were easy, the parson nearly destroyed the Apothecary,
but when the going grew tough, he was willing to throw aside every belief if it would save his daughters.
“So?” Conor said. “So would anyone! So would everyone! What did you expect him to do?”
I expected him to give the Apothecary the yew tree when the Apothecary first asked.
This stopped Conor. There were further crashes from the parsonage as another wall fell. “You’d have let yourself be killed?”
I am far more than just one tree, the monster said, but yes, I would have let the yew tree be chopped down.
It would have saved the parson’s daughters. And many, many others besides.
“But it would have killed the tree and made him rich!” Conor yelled. “He was evil!”
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