Witch medicine probably would be better in that case. Elf advances in medicine were certainly nothing to sneeze at—Hecara knew I owed my life to them. But elf medicine was designed to treat what was happening now, whereas witches looked at why it was happening in the first place, and took your Magik into account. Merfolk did better with anything water-soluble, werewolf potions were always brewed on a full moon for maximum effect, and demon medicine needed to be heat resistant.
So an elf suppressant would try to force my body into heat, but a witch-made medicine would be brewed with my intent in mind, and with the knowledge that I had equated heats to danger and pain.
“Before all of…this… I was actually going to create an app that connected Magiks looking for personalized potions with witches who could make them.”
Morgana’s brow raised. “Is that right?”
I nodded, taking a sip of the weak, sugary, and creamy coffee. “Yeah. I know lots of witches find it difficult to work in other city-states, so I wanted to make something that would allow them some independence while also helping Magiks who live far away from a witch apothecary but need charms or spells.”
The alpha pursed her lips in thought as she looked up, considering my plan. “How would that work?”
“Easy,” I said, recalling the elevator pitch I’d crafted for one of my business classes. I started stirring my coffee absentmindedly, proud that I hadn’t forgotten. “Witches make charms, potions, enchantments… all kinds of things. Right now, if you need something specific, you either have to know a witch personally or travel to their shop. And even then, not every witch works with every type of Magik or can help every condition.”
Morgana nodded along, her undivided attention thrilling. “My app would let witches list what they can craft, and Magiks could request custom items tailored to their abilities and problems. One witch might specialize in potions that stabilize demon colds, another might make tonics to combat altitude sickness for non-cits living in Halcyon, or underwater breathing charms for visitors to Tideholm. Everything’s personalized and safe, delivered wherever you need it.”
Morgana leaned back. “So you’re basically creating a magical, online marketplace?”
“Exactly!” I said, snapping my fingers. “Elf medicine is general—mass produced, with the same formula for everyone. But witches can account for someone’s Magik, their body, their habits, and history. The platform makes that expertise accessible without anyone having to leave home. And since it’s all online, you don’t have to worry about adding on customizations for anything embarrassing.”
Morgana let out a low whistle, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “That’s actually brilliant. If it worked, it could help a lot of witches, and a lot of Magiks.”
I grinned, feeling a spark of my old excitement bubble up again. “Yeah. That was the idea, anyway.”
The pancakes arrived, and my stomach growled in anticipation of the unhealthy amount of sugar and carbs I was about to consume. “It’s too bad I can’t do that anymore, though,” I said with a sigh, stuffing my face.
“Why not?” Morgana asked.
I closed my eyes, savoring the combination of butter, maple syrup, and blueberry melting on my tongue, and then swallowed so I could answer. “I mean, I’d need a computer and someone to go over the code. I had already finished most of it for my senior capstone project, and it should still be saved in the cloud somewhere. But there were some bugs I hadn’t figured out how to fix yet, and—”
Morgana held out her hand to stop me. “I can get you a computer. As long as you aren’t reaching out to old contacts and you operate under your new name, you don’t have to live in online isolation. And for the coding, the elf who can get the meds happens to be quite good at that kind of stuff. I can cover his fees if you want him to look it over.”
I paused, my chest constricting with joy I was too afraid to let loose. “Really? You’d… you’d do that for me? On top of everything else?”
She gave a sly shrug, cutting into her Eggs Benedict. “How about I just take a percentage of the profits? Does fifteen work for you?”
My eyes began to blur with tears, the smile so big on my face it hurt my cheeks. “Make it twelve and you’ve got a deal.”
29
It’s a Bug, Not a Feature
We took an indirect route to Selene’s, just in case someone caught our trail. She had cars parked all over Lundaria, ready to switch at regular intervals along our journey.
“Moving is good,” she told me. “Moving is confusing, and moving is alive.”
Morgana was the expert, so far be it from me to argue, even if I was getting a little tired of being on the road all the time. Radio stations waned in and out, and the cars we took were all older models without any hookups for phones, so when conversations ran dry, we drove in silence while I entertained myself with crossword books we bought from flux stations.
After two days, the claim Victor had left on my neck began to sting, like vampire venom without the aphrodisiac, which meant he must have realized I was gone. His anguish-laced anger was coming through in little droplets of searing pain, starting at thebite and rippling outward. It got stronger as the days passed, but it was still bearable.
We stayed at a mix of motels and safe houses, and the safe house we stayed at that night had a package waiting for us outside.
“That’s for you,” she said, her lips curling in a knowing smirk.
My eyes wide, I brought it inside and opened it up to find a top-of-the-line Owl laptop.
“Really?” I squealed, hugging it to my chest.
Morgana leaned against the door frame with her arms crossed. “Really. Consider this my initial investment.” Then she reached into her pocket, taking out a scrap of paper. “And here’s Arlen’s email. Go ahead and get in contact with him. Tell him to put it on my tab.”
