The glowing orb of glass—the Essence Globe—is no longer softly simmering. It’s blazing with light and energy, a swirling storm of gold, rose, and amber, shot through with flickers of emerald and pale violet.
The Sorceress snaps her fingers and the orb detaches from its bracket with a musical chime. It floats gently into her hands and she cradles it with reverence, like it’s a newborn star.
“The two of you come with me, my dear,” she says to me. “The Healing Draught won’t brew itself.”
I glance back at Valen. He nods, giving my hand a squeeze.
“Let’s go.”
The Sorceress leads us into a high-ceilinged chamber that smells of herbs, resin, and something rich and metallic—magic, I realize.
Tables line the walls, each crowded with strange, arcane tools—bronze globes… glittering glass spirals…tiny cages of silver lattice with fluttering flame wisps trapped inside. There are jars of dried herbs, flower petals, and glimmering crystal powders that shimmer with inner light.
But it’s the center table that draws my eye.
It’s made of black wood carved with ancient runes. Directly in the middle sits a round, golden cauldron, polished so bright I can see my reflection in its surface. Tubes of thin, transparent glass curve out from it like the arms of a jellyfish, feeding into measuring vials and glowing infusion dishes. It looks like something between an alchemy lab and a sacred shrine.
“Now, we set the Essence Globe here,” the Sorceress says, motioning to a groove shaped to hold it. She leans over and places the globe in its cradle.
Then she picks up a mortar and pestle and begins to grind together fragrant herbs—lavender, chamomile, golden valerian—and adds a few crushed petals from the glowing honey-bath flowers.
“These will help bind the Draught to your mother’s spirit,” she explains. “And now… the incantation. You must speak it clearly, Princess—let your magic rise while you stir.”
She hands me a silver rod and gestures toward the cauldron. As the Essence Globe empties in a slow stream of liquid light, I stir clockwise, watching the mixture shimmer and swirl. The potion begins to bubble with soft golden heat.
The Sorceress intones the spell first, then nods to me.
I repeat the words, my voice trembling, then strengthening as I go:
“By flame and bloom, by blood and breath,
Unbind the chains that tether death.
Let gold be light, and light be life,
Restore what’s lost, erase the strife.”
The cauldron glows brighter with every word. The color shifts—from soft rose to burnished amber to a brilliant molten gold. The air hums with power, lifting the tiny hair on my arms and at the back of my neck.
When the final syllable leaves my lips, the brew stills. The light within it pulses like a beating heart and I know without even asking that it’s done.
The Sorceress lets out a soft sound of satisfaction.
“Well done, child! That was… impressive.”
I lower the stirring rod, still staring at the glowing, golden liquid.
“Will it work?” I whisper. “Will it heal my mother?”
“It will. Your magic is raw but potent—and your emotional connection with your man with has strengthened it. You have quite a lot of magic for one so young. I could polish that power, you know.” She tilts her head, giving me a considering look. “If you ever decide to return here, I would be honored to train you. There’s a great deal of potential in you, Irena.”
I hardly know what to say.
“Thank you, but… I don’t know how I’d come back. Once Valen flies me home and I return to my family, I’m not sure…”
Valen, who has been standing behind me quietly this whole time, speaks up.
“Baby, you don’t really want to go back there, do you? I mean… I know you need to heal your mother, but after that, don’t you want to come away with me?”
