“That’s the point, imbecile,” Lux griped to herself. She pulled her cloak tighter around her. The hood came up and over, hiding her hair and her irritated expression both. Then she said louder, “Not for long.”
Chapter six
LuxtrailedMagdaandLars as they entered Verity. Sven had stayed behind with the body in a thick shadow of low-hanging branches and leaves.
There weren’t cobblestones here, but dirt-packed streets, and she wondered how a town’s appearance could be so like that of its surroundings. Many of the buildings were more than two stories tall. They sprawled upward, rather than outward, mimicking the reach of the trees. Magda had mentioned the town was supremely old, and most of those who were born here remained. While that fact, along with the stretched buildings, could remind her of Ghadra, nothing else was the same. The city she’d left behind had begun rotting long before Riselda’s plague had descended upon it; if she looked at Verity any closer, she might see it breathe.
“The apothecary’s shop is the next street over,” said Magda.
“The apothecary? I need eyes, not a serum to lengthen my lashes.”
Magda cast her a withering side-eye. “You’re a haughty one, aren’t you? He sells loose ingredients too—along with his lash serum.”
Lux scowled.Haughty?Her? She didn’t think she’d ever been called that in her life. “Fine. And where will we go afterward? It’s nearly dark.” She was tired and hungry, and she would be more so by the time she was through with the enchantment. The idea of laying out her bedroll on the outskirts of town was abysmal. She couldn’t fathom how frozen she’d be come morning. Maybe she’d burrow into a fairy ring. At least the abundant leaves could be mounded around her.
“Maidenway Inn,” was all Magda said, and if Lux was not mistaken, with a healthy dose of long-suffering.
As if this whole thing is my fault. As ifIwant to be doing this at all.
Lux surveyed the few people moving about their business in the waning hours. Noticed how they were bundled warmly with coats and cloaks, caps and thin gloves. But all of it was brown as dirt. She didn’t comment on the observance, however. The word “haughty” still stung.
Wold’s Apothecaryhad been painted in black lettering on a wooden sign as red as everything else. It was tacked to the storefront, and Lux climbed the three steps to enter the front door. Magda had gone in ahead, and Lux thought briefly of letting the door fall closed behind herself, but in the end, held it out for Lars to take.
The single room was unfortunately cool. Lux hadn’t realized how much she’d hoped for a dousing of warm air until it’d been withheld. She tucked her hands tighter against her as she scanned the shop.
Shelving lined three of four walls, and it appeared to hold all of the annoyances she expected. Displays of vials and jars were labeled with every sort of inane promise. Candlesticks wereinterspersed between them in puddles of yellow tallow. Lux thought the entire room smelled terrible. Like molded herbs and salt.
She turned toward the counter last, to the tallest flickering candlestick of all, and the thick, tree of a man standing leery behind it.
Magda spoke to him in hushed tones—a sight which twisted Lux’s insides in an irritating way. She hoped the woman wasn’t doing business on her behalf. She moved to the bandit’s side to catch the final bits of conversation.
“…Alesso. He’s in town? Good. Later tonight.” Magda offered Lux a semblance of a smile when she neared. “He has marsh snapper eyes.”
To prove her word, the apothecary plunked a tin onto the counter. Lux leaned forward to examine his offering. There were plenty, and she only needed a pair for Viktar’s revival, but she figured she may as well buy more while she could.
“I’ll take them all.”
“Oh…no. They’re not all for sale. In fact, I can only sell you a set.”
Lux’s eyes widened. “Whyever could you only sell me a pair when you have twenty sets?”
She replaced her expression with one more determined—of a customer prepared for the uphill battle of a haggle, but rather than the glimpse of fierce welcome she’d become accustomed to in the Dark Market, this man’s face grew closed and angry.
“For that, I’ll sell you none. Leave.”
A sound somewhere between a scoff and a cry of disbelief left Lux’s lips at the same moment Lars declared, “I knew it. She’s blasted useless,” and Magda muttered, “Devil below. Must I do everything?”
The older woman shoved Lux belly up to the counter. “She’ll take the set, and she’ll pay you double.”
“I willno—” But she didn’t finish. Magda’s hand slipped almost imperceptibly from the pocket of Lux’s skirt, heavier now than it’d been moments ago. Her glance slid sideways to the woman’s satisfied smirk. “Double,” she ground out instead.
“That’s a girl,” said the apothecary, and Lux decided then in that moment the apothecary above her old apartment was not a singular, loathsome figure, and all apothecaries were loathsome and despicably the same.
She focused on steadying her breaths as he spooned the eyes into a black sachet, tightening the end, before holding out his hand, palm up. She sprinkled the coins on the countertop instead. Snatching the sachet, she didn’t glance at either Magda or Lars to see if they followed, and on her way out, she saw all she needed to know about whom she dealt with. Not lash serum, but a concoction for growth, nonetheless.
“Here you are, Lars. Compliments of Mr. Wold and his generous business.” She tossed the vial from the display, and Lars—to his credit—caught it.
She chuckled over his cry of outrage all the way to Maidenway Inn.
