Lexi’s breathing came in short, ragged gasps as Therese helped her to sit up, barely able to do so herself. Hair was stuck to the perspiration on Lexi’s forehead. Her eyes were unfocused. She could do no more. “I’m sorry,” she croaked, closing her eyes. “I couldn’t … give any more.”
Therese hugged her reassuringly.
I sat forward, watching Auggie with eager eyes. I watched his chest rise, then fall. Rise, then fall….
His chest didn’t rise again. My heart paused mid-beat. I held out a hand, put it to Auggie’s chest. I couldn’t feel the thump of his heart. I shuffled, pressing my ear to his chest. Nothing. I lifted a finger to his nose and felt no breath.
“No,” I said, shaking my head. “No. Not after all that.”
I knelt over Auggie and pushed on his chest. Once, twice, then again. “Beat, damn you,” I ordered his heart. “You can’t give out now.”
As if in response, Auggie gasped, then coughed. I felt the jump of his heart beneath my hands, and I pulled them away as Auggie sat up. He blinked around him, dazed. I was frozen as I watched him move. He was alive. I’d … done it. I’d actually succeeded in creating a potion for him.
My mouth went dry as his eyes found mine.
And he smiled.
EPILOGUE
Some sort ofinspiration possessed me after that, and for the next three months, I created dozens of potions, filling an entire book with other theories to test. I’d never felt more confident in my craft—like I was a new man, discovering something about myself so extraordinary that I wanted desperately to make up for lost time. Knowing I had the ability to do this made me feel so much closer to my parents, to my gifts, and to my shop. I felt reinvigorated, like I had purpose. Lovely purpose.
And through it all, I had my friends at my side.
Well, not completely by my side. Freya had been at Kingsbury, helping to repair the damage done there, with the aid of the Council of Witches, whom she’d convinced were somewhat responsible for the mess that had been made by not keeping the balance of power in better control. Lexi had helped where she could as well, but many souls had been lost that day, and the humans had another reason to hate witchkind. As we helped them to rebuild, however, we also gave them a reason to trust as well. I’d even lent them David, and they put the golem’s strong body to work on some of the more strenuous tasks.
“Oh, Mr. Witch!”
I glanced up from my cauldron bubbling an obscene purple. The air in my shop was thick with the smell of licorice, which wasn’t right. It should have smelled like herring. I certainly preferred the current scent, but my calculations hadn’t been this far off in a while. A smell was just a smell. It was the effects of the potion that mattered most.
Therese was walking over to me slowly, carefully balancing a human skull turned upside down so that the cranium was full of steaming amber liquid. She looked rather strange walking with the remains of a man in her hands, a strand of her red-orange hair falling into the liquid. That wouldn’t have been a problem if she’d remained a frog-creature. I rather missed that form. But I supposed her father had been glad when she’d shown up on his doorstep following our adventure. And she wasn’t a nuisance to meallthe time. Although for some reason, Auggie had insisted I needed a serving girl for my tea. He said it was so I could focus on helping customers, but I knew it was because he liked having Therese around the shop.
“What’s this?” I asked her, leaning forward to give it a sniff. The licorice was too overpowering for me to get a handle on the scent emanating from the skull. I brought my face closer to Therese’s conspiratorially. “It isn’t thathealthytea again, is it?”
Therese giggled in response, shaking her head. “No, Mr. Witch. It’s chamomile and lavender. Auggie says he doesn’t want you hyper at the dinner table again.”
“Hyper at the dinner table,” I echoed in a mumble. Sure, I got excitable after working on potions, but there was no reason to practicallysedateme. Nevertheless, I accepted the skull and tipped a small portion into my mouth. It was sweetened with honey and sugar. Very lovely. At least Auggie’s alchemy wasn’t yet as potent as I could have created. I smacked my lips as I handed the skull back to her, carefully yanking free one of the skull’s teeth and popping it into my mouth like a mint.
“You’re not spoiling your dinner, I hope,” a voice commented from the other side of the room.
I looked up, startled, to find Auggie watching me, an amused lopsided grin on his face. My eyes drifted to the dimple he showed off and my heart gave a flutter in response. “Wouldn’t dream of it,” I told him. “Unless you cooked.”
“I didnotcook. I can manage tea, but that’s the extent, I’m afraid.”
“You barely manage that,” I muttered.
Therese laughed.
“What was that?” Auggie asked, frowning. I lamented the loss of that dimple.
“Nothing, dear. Who cooked, then? Not … not Freya, I hope?”
Now Auggie chuckled. “No, no. I’m not letting her near the kitchen again, not after she beheaded that chicken in there. I’m still finding blood in cracks. Lexi’s here today. She insisted on taking over.”
“Oh, Lexi,” I said, relieved. “That’s fine then.”
“Glad you approve, your highness.”
I ignored him, turning back to the potion. It suddenly smelled foul, as if it had turned rancid. My lips curled as I sniffed delicately, realizing that it hadn’t gone bad, so much as it smelled of herring.
