Violetta gave me a sideways glance, lips pursed. She’d been largely silent throughout the conversation, eyes glued unerringly to my face.
“What happened to your old lab?” she asked.
My heart sank. I knew the information she was fishing for, and I didn’t like it—what was more, I didn’t imagine Wanda would like it either. Sure, I could have lied. Could have told Violetta that I’d had some spectacular magical accident that had destroyed my current work space but...
“I don’t have one at the moment,” I said quietly. “I’m just… working from my kitchen.”
“Oh,” Violetta answered, looking at Smith.
I cleared my throat, figuring in this case honesty was the best policy. “Regardless of what Wanda’s trying to sell you, I’m not a master alchemist. If you’re looking for someone who’s been practicing for a long time, you’d want to contact my grandmother.”
“You are an alchemist though?” Violetta double checked.
“Yes, she is,” Wanda answered before I could. “She’s just very… humble.” She looked at me and widened her eyes when she said the word.
But I wanted to make sure they understood what they were getting themselves into. “I’m currently training from my grandmother’s… books to find out more about my own abilities.I’d say I’m an alchemist-in-training. If you don’t want to work with a novice, I’d understand.”
I cringed, holding my breath as I waited for the pointed fingers and ‘I told you so-s’. Though, to my surprise, they weren’t quick to come. Violetta and Smith exchanged a glance that was loaded with meaning. I couldn’t tell what kind of silent thought passed between them, but when she faced forward again, she shrugged.
“At least you’re honest. I can appreciate that.” She then gave Wanda a look to which Wanda just shrugged. Then Violetta’s attention was back on me. “We’ll agree to your terms as long as you promise to do your best. It’s all we can ask from you.”
I let out the breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding, leaning more firmly against the rack of clothing I’d been subconsciously using to steady myself. Idefinitelyneeded to take some zest potion before I opened the store back up again.
“So, um...” I began with an uncertain glance at Wanda. “What seems to be the problem?”
Smith shifted his weight uncomfortably, settling many muscles rippling, even while he was at rest. He reminded me of Roy in that way—both built for strength and speed, and the evidence was all over Smith’s body—the muscles, the height, the breadth of his shoulders. I’d once seen Roy’s muscles best a work shirt in under thirty seconds flat. Smith must have been something massive in his beast form. And as to that question, I was still unsure just what he was.
“It’s my niece,” he said at last. “She unfortunately passed recently and… it’s dragon tradition to transform the ashes of our dead into… gemstones or ingots or some form of treasure.” He cleared his throat. “Unfortunately, I don’t have any access to an alchemist who could perform such a feat.”
“A dragon, you said?” I asked, my brain having glommed onto only that word from everything he’d just said.
“Right.”
I looked at Wanda. She’d conveniently left that part out.
“A dragon?” I repeated.
Smith smiled tightly. “Yes, a dragon. I’m one too. A different breed than my niece, but still probably something close to what you’re imagining.”
Well, that made a hell of a lot of sense, now that I looked at him again. “I thought dragons were, uh, supposed to be invulnerable?” I asked, wondering what the situation was with his niece. Not that I’d gotten past the fact that Smith was a dragon. I hadn’t. But I figured it was probably rude just to stand there, staring at him and saying nothing while my brain tried to process.
He rolled a shoulder in a shrug. “Hard to kill but certainly not immune to harm. The condition my niece had was the result of a heritable curse. She got it from her mother, and her mother got it from her grandmother. And so on and so on.” He took a breath as the weight of what he was expecting me to do finally settled on my shoulders. Like an anvil.
“And… you’re the first alchemist I’ve met who’s willing to work with monsters,” Smith continued. “So how about it? If I can deliver you a lab, can you make me a gemstone?”
There was only one good answer to that.
“I can try.”
Chapter Three
I might have gone back to my shop then, if not for the arrival of a certain witch.
Indigo Hallewell looked like your ordinary witch: dark hair that fell to her mid-back. A full figure and a regal bearing that belied her somewhat small stature. There was a certain haughtiness that lingered around her eyes. And that was totally normal.
Except, she wasn’t.
The woman I was looking at had physicallypossessedthe body of a distant cousin of mine, Lydia, after a spell gone awry. Indigo’s enemies had rendered her little more than a disembodied spirit co-habitating with a gypsy bookkeeper she could barely stand. One thing had led to another, and now the pair were separated, Indigo still riding around in Lydia’s body, while Lydia upgraded to what amounted to the body of a demonic supermodel-dom.
