“Moonbeams harvested inbrackish water,” I murmured, scanning the shelves of the potion shop. “How can I not have moonbeams in stock?” I narrowed my eyes at the sedentary figure of David in his customary chair by the door. “You need to keep better records before I switch you out with a scarecrow.” I turned to regard Therese sitting patiently on a countertop watching me, her frog throat bobbing.
“I’m so sorry, Therese,” I said, smiling to show that I wasn’t worried. “It seems I’m missing a few crucial ingredients to offset the spell I cast on you. Not to worry, though. I’ll merely … find them along the way to New York.” I tapped my lower lip. That was easier said than done. Specializing in plant magic meant that I would need to find others able to harvest ingredients as well. There was a reason ingredients like mermaid scales were so expensive—because they required someone qualified to track them down, and that was not me. “In the meantime, I’ll have to write an excuse to your father. Can’t have the village storming my shop with torches and pitchforks while we’re gone, can we?” It had been just earlier today that I’d given that village boy a cure for his mother’s ills, and you’d think that goodwill would linger, but humans had an impressively short memory.
Therese’s throat expanded and a loudribbitescaped her.
I took that as a sign of agreement.
I caressed the red leather cover of my mother’s grimoire before I closed it. It was a wonder that she’d thought of creating a counter-potion at all. My parents had been geniuses, formulating new potions regularly, but that didn’t always translate to common sense. My father’s black journal was smaller and filled with his compact writing, while my mother’s handwriting had been flowery and elegant. Sometimes they would add comments in the margins that reminded me of them, like they were still here with me.
A ghost of a smile traced my lips. I had not inherited my parents’ natural talents for potions. I could re-create potions with their recipes, sure. I could uncover potions in witch libraries and add them to my arsenal. But I could not create an original for the life of me, and Gods knew how I’d tried. I hoped my parents would still be proud of my work and my little potion shop, but nonetheless, not living up to their potential bothered me. I still came across witches who expected me to be some marvel when they realized who my parents were. And they always walked away disappointed.
But I had perfected my potion-making. I could measure things out easily without needing tools. I’d memorized hundreds of recipes. I had made a name for myself selling ingredients in my shop, and so, had found my own way of carrying on their legacy. And that would have to be enough.
Narcissa mewed from the floor, gazing up at the counter, where Therese sat, just out of view.
“No, you may not eat her,” I snapped, shaking a finger at her. “Naughty girl. And don’t think I didn’t notice the nibble you took out of one of those orchids. That really hurts, you know.”
Narcissa leveled me with a stare, then yawned and began to lick her paw.
“Of course it’s of no concern to you,” I murmured to myself. “It’s my own mess, after all.”
I looked back at Therese, then at the scrap of paper beside her, with two addresses listed upon it, the top one being an address just outside London. That was a good sign. No witches had claim to territory there. No, I was more concerned with New York. From what I’d heard, it was a right mess. Since lands had been divided among witches in Europe for centuries, there wasn’t much squabbling over domains. America had been a free-for-all, with territories constantly in flux, since the Witch’s Council had no footing there. I didn’t know how the humans were surviving the power struggles.
In a world dominated by witches, humans knew to stay well away from witch domains, but there were the odd witches who ventured into human society and demanded sacrifices or liked to punish humans for perceived slights. I would do my utmost to avoid those territories during my journey. I could hold my own, and I had Lucifer’s decree to venture into any territory for the Devil’s business, but I’d rather avoid any unpleasantries. While witches respected, or ratherfeared, Lucifer and his demons, there were the few who would balk at his interference and chance his wrath.
After gathering supplies and refilling the vials and packets within my cloak I’d recently used, I stepped onto the tree stump in the center of the room. Therese squirmed in my bag, but I ignored her. I’d written a letter to her father that I required her services for a time and that he would be well-compensated upon her safe return. Given the poverty of the village, I assumed that would suffice, since I clearly couldn’t allow him to see Therese off.
“Be good while I’m gone, Narcissa. And David, keep tidier records.”
I knew he could hear me, even if he remained where he was, staring blankly. The moment a witch other than me arrived in the shop, he would perk right up and be the picture of service.
I took a breath. I hoped this job wouldn’t be overly complicated or difficult, but I also couldn’t temper my excitement for what waited on the other side. Freedom. With my soul intact, the Fates would be forced to put me back into play, where I could perhaps establish a real territory of my own, and learn powerful potions that would make some of those horrible small-minded witches think twice before crossing me. Without a soul, I wasn’tallowedto make any significant impact on the world around me, outside of jobs for Lucifer, of course. But once my soul was returned, I could resume the life I’d been building before I’d made that horrid deal in the first place. My life wouldn’t be just a remnant of what it could be. Perhaps I could seek out the great witches as my parents had done, and truly make something of myself, rather than forever be in their shadows.
I thumped my foot onto the stump, and the scorched rune marks ringing its bark sputtered to life, glowing an iridescent blue. I closed my eyes and spoke the name of the town where the next-closest teleportation circle was.
I felt a pull as the world around me disappeared. My midsection was tugged through space and time in a nauseating trip through a wormhole. When I felt the tug reverse, then disappear altogether, I opened my eyes to find myself somewhere new.
A library. Oh, that was lovely. I’d been needing a potion book that went into depth on love spells. They were becoming so popular these days.
I found that rather than standing on a tree stump, I was perched on a hunk of marble, the same runes burned into its outer sides. Stepping down from the marble, I was startled when a cat greeted me, nudging her face into my ankle. She was a white cat, and clearly friendly. Quite the opposite of Narcissa.
I reached down to offer her a pet, but she scurried away into an adjoining room. Probably for the best. If Narcissa smelled another cat on me, she might reintroduce me to her claws. She might act aloof, but she was a jealous creature.
Stepping out of the library, I was surprised to find an old woman sitting behind a desk. She coughed into a kerchief and looked altogether miserable, phlegm rattling in her chest as she breathed.
“Good day,” I said politely.
The woman blinked blearily at me. She had to be on the verge of a hundred years old, she appeared so fragile, the skin on her reedy arms all but translucent. “Be needing a room, will you?”
I read the sign on the table and realized that the building I found myself in was an inn. That was convenient. “Yes, please.”
She sorted through some papers, coughing all the while. I had a tincture that could clear that up easily enough. “Do you have any teeth left?”
The woman paused, sending me an odd look. “What’s that you say? Teeth?”
I nodded. “Yes. Or have they all fallen out?”
She scowled, and I could clearly make out a few teeth left in her head, although they were yellowed and worn down. They wouldn’t be particularly tasty, but they could do in a pinch if I was hungry.
