I sat there for several minutes, willing the burn in my chest to settle before collecting the tray and returning it to the kitchen. As I rinsed out the cups, a shrieking teakettle noise went off, which was odd, because the stove wasn’t lit. After listening for a moment, I rushed out to the living area to find it was coming from the new scrying mirror Vassago had given me.
“Are you already finished?” I could see Greta over Vassago’s shoulder, the both of them bunded up and collecting fluffy snowflakes on their clothes.
“Yes, we have everything we came for. I’ll have to come back to visit the monastery another time, it’s just too bloody cold today.” Greta stuck out her tongue to catch some flakes behind him. “Was just checking the range on your new device, see you in a moment.”
The glass went dark, and they were walking through the portal from the little village before I fully made it into the hall.
“Good trip?”
“It’s a cute place,” Greta said, handing over three wrapped bundles. “The apothecary had a ton of things I didn’t expect.”
“I felt the same way when I visited. Was the old man there today?” I led them toward the first library, where the main mirror had been returned to the wall. Vassago’s mist crept overhis skin, pale gray and wispy as he worked on making the adjustments.
“Yes, the proprietor was there. Unfortunately, he’ll be taking an extended leave. His daughter will be running the shop in his absence.” His eyes connected with mine and flashed red.
I frowned. “That’s unfortunate.” Not to mention slightly suspicious.
“Indeed. But it’s in his best interest.”
I frowned. “Explain.”
Vassago smirked. “I left the priest for you to deal with. The apothecary was rather apologetic. He claimed it was a crisis of conscience that led him to tell Phin he could no longer make the tincture.”
“So there isn’t an actual issue preventing it?”
“No, there is,” Greta’s tone was sharp. “There’s an herb that’s become very difficult to find. But instead of seeking out an alternative, he’d just been using less and less of the more expensive herbs.”
“So, it was actually getting less effective?”
“Yes. And there were other modifications approved by Father Morton.” I could tell by the disgust shared between them that I wasn’t going to like whatever came next. “Among other things, the apothecary added in hemlock, foxglove, and quieting cane as they were readily available and had similar effect as what he couldn’t source. I don’t know what the Heavenly alternatives might have been for the original formula.”
My blood flashed icy, then rage took over. “Aren’t those all?—”
“Poison.” Greta nodded. “Damaging to mind, heart, and voice, respectively. All three are known poisons separately, but together? Even just her normal dose of a drop a day?” She clenched her jaw and her fists. “I’m sure that’s why Ophelia destroyed the rest of it. That alone explains her irritated throat and likely her episodes as well.” She shook her head and steppedtoward the double doors that led to the deals library. “Is Phin still in there?”
“No, she went to her room to rest. She wasn’t feeling well.”
Greta frowned. “Tell her I’m working as fast as I can. The blue elixir I sent with her should help with healing and the light green with silver shimmer may do a decent job with some of the other symptoms until I can get the new tincture made.”
“I’ll tell her. Thank you both.”
“Our pleasure. Did Seir ever come back?” Vassago asked.
“No.”
He grunted. “I’ll be trying again from d’Arcan. I’ll let you know if he’s still there. Perhaps he went straight home.”
“That’s what I assumed.”
They made their way back to the hall, Greta more and more pensive.
“Everything okay?”
“Yes, it’s fine. If she needs anything, just send for me,” she said ominously.
“I will.” I caught Vassago looking around again, face pinched as though he smelled something rotten. “Come visit any time.”
“Perhaps I will. Go wait by your mirror.”
