“The apothecary in Aymonroux.”
“And how often were you taking it?”
“Daily.”
“For how long?”
“Since I was taken there. Ten or eleven years.”
She grumbled several colorful words under her breath. “It was not properly made.”
“I don’t understand.” The painful prickle of worry settled under my skin.
There was a heavy knock on the door, and a woman’s voice called out for Ophelia.
“That’ll be Imogen. Tap, would you mind?”
“Of course.” He rose to answer the door, leaving us alone again.
Ophelia shook her head. “It was bad magic, Phin. You’re better off without it.”
Panic started to take hold. “I’m not though. Without it…” Mortified, I gave the simplest version. “I’ll basically go into heat. For days.”
“I’m truly sorry for that but continuing to take that tincture was not a viable option.” She gripped my hand, urgency in her tone. “I tasted quieting cane. Hemlock. Foxglove. Effective at suppressing a number of things no doubt, but dangerous, lazy work.Poison, Phin. Greta took a sample?”
My blood went cold. Hemlock and foxglove were well known toxins. “Yes, she did. I’ve never heard of quieting cane, what is that?”
She just shook her head. “It burned going down, yes?” I nodded. “Because it was actuallyburningyou, child. It’s no doubt to blame, at least in part, for why your voice is the way that it is.” She shook her head. “I’d bet she’s figured it out herself by now, but tell Greta I tasted those things. She’ll understand.”
More confused than ever, I looked up as Tap led a tall, broad-shouldered woman into the room. She had long dark hair and a gentle smile, though she was built like a warrior.
“Greetings, my girl,” Ophelia said. “Imogen, this is Phin, Tap’s Nephilim mate.”
“Ophelia.” Tap sighed her name and pinched the bridge of his nose. It might have been funny if the whole situation hadn’t left me feeling so off balance and nauseated.
“It’s true.” Ophelia threw her hands up, unapologetic.
“Hello.” Imogen raised a hand. “Pleasure to meet you. Sorry to interrupt, I didn’t know she had company today.”
“You’re all welcome here.” Ophelia waved her hand dismissively, and I was curious as to why that response made Tap’s eyebrows go up and Imogen smile, but that question would have to wait.
“Imo, come have a seat. Get yourself some tea and a snack. I’ve got to look for something these two need, and he’s going to make me a portal. Tap, come with me.” She waved him over to a set of bookshelves at the back of the room. While nothing was truly that far away, it was enough that their hushed conversation was too quiet to hear.
Imogen did as Ophelia asked, methodically spreading honey over the soft bread but sniffing at the tea after pouring only a tiny bit and setting it right back down.
“Are you the one my brother Tormund was keeping an eye on? In Aymonroux?”
I startled at the question, then vindication settled in. I’d been right, the statue on the church roofhadbeen moving. “I suppose I was. Though I never got to meet him, of course.”
She nodded. “He just arrived back at the conclave this morning, so perhaps one day soon you will. He was posted there for quite a while.”
“Could you thank him for me? Sounds like he may have been responsible for misdirecting at least a few of the people I was trying to stay hidden from.”
“I will.” She smiled, clearly pleased by the idea.
I wasn’t sure what to say after that, and our brief conversation hit an awkward lull. After she’d finished her bread,she gestured at Tap and Ophelia, who were huddled together over an old tome she’d put on a reading stand. Tap’s shoulders were hunched and tense, and Ophelia was clearly telling him something it didn’t appear he wanted to hear. He then stalked over to the table with all the crystals on it and started assembling something in another little cauldron. Ophelia followed behind, watching over his shoulder.
“You chose a good day. Usually she’s not so accommodating,” Imogen said, but her smile made me wonder if she wasn’t quite telling me the truth. Her eyes dipped to my necklace. “That’s pretty. Family heirloom?”
