I nodded, waiting for her to go on.
“The Mixologist is a role that a person is born for. No amount of training or magical education can prepare a person for it. The magic is either in your blood or it’s not,” she said. “It was in my blood, and when the time was right, I was brought here to fulfill my duty. I have to assume something similar is true for you. Do you feel like you belong here?”
“Is it strange to say yes?”
“It’s not strange at all.” Lily reached forward, squeezed my hand. “I know exactly what you mean.”
“So you’ve got healers on this island,” I said, “and you’re the Mixologist. You make potions and elixirs and allsorts of things. What service can I provide that’s different as a human doctor?”
“I’m not a doctor. I create potions to help people, but it’s not enough,” she said. “Not to mention, life around here is about to get a lot busier, and I’ll need the help.”
“Busier?”
“With things,” Lily said quickly. “Anyway, I should turn in for the night. Can I walk you back to your place?”
“No,” I said. “I’ll stay on the path. The moon’s bright tonight. I’ll be fine.”
Lily hesitated, then nodded. “I’ve got something for you.”
When she stood, I noticed the slim belt she wore around her waist. Several little vials were tucked into it. It reminded me of the travel belt Silas had given me.
Lily saw me watching. “I keep a smattering of potions on me at all times these days. Just in case. You never know what you’ll need in these darker times.”
Lily handed me a small case. I couldn’t see inside, but I could hear the gentle clatter of glass bottles.
“I brewed some more Fortifier for the wards. I heard you were able to patch them, which is excellent news. Silas needs the help,” she said. “And as much as I love your suggestion of Abraca-Daquiri, I’ve named my new potion the Curse Corrector. It’s the antidote that you’ve used to heal Irina. Abraca-Daquiri deserves to be something much more fun than ridding the body of evil magic.” She winked at me.
“I think that’s perfect,” I said, accepting her precious gifts. “Thank you.”
“One more for the road.” Lily plunked a tiny bottle in my hand. “Drink this now before you leave. It will get you home in one piece; think of it as a little bubble-wrap-to-go. Silas would kill me if I sent you out there unprotected.”
I glanced at the magic whirling in the vial. It was a tornado of the prettiest shade of pink I’d ever seen.
We moved out onto the porch. I was just turning to thank her for the shared tea and the friendship, as well as the vials, but a snap-crackle-pop sounded behind me, and I whipped around to face out to the waters beyond.
Beside me, Lily sucked in a sharp breath. Above us, letters danced in the sky as if written by sparklers.
SHE IS BACK.
Lily reached for my hand, squeezed it. I could see her other hand reaching for her travel belt. The one filled with protective vials. My heart stuttered.
Then the letters blinked out, those tiny specks of firelight rearranging into new words.
SHE WILL DIE.
I could hear Lily swallow, but I could also feel her steely resolve as she linked my arm next to hers. I could feel her clasping a vial in her freehand.
“What does this—” Before I could finish my sentence, another snap-crackle-pop sounded, this time louder and more aggressive.
The innocuous-looking magic in the sky took a deadly turn. The little bolts of light began to pelt toward us, falling stars of cursed magic. Lily muttered something, uncapped the vial in her hand, and then pulled me to her side.
I could barely process what was happening before the sparkling bits of magic shattered as they hit a protective sphere around us, a shimmering force field keeping us safe.
Lily held steady, holding up our defenses. I flinched with each shot of magic against the shell around us. When the last spark pinged off and died, shimmering into ashes around us, Lily let the force field lapse.
We glanced around, dark ashes scarring the white sandy beaches.
“Well,” Lily said. “I think that confirms it.”
