I looked between him and the sloshing liquid. ‘I need to talk to Tova. I’m sorry, but I have other tasks more critical than mixing potions,’ I said, wincing when he frowned.
‘Your other matters aren’t here, and the soldiers need help,’ Ciesko said, disappointment in his voice. When I lowered my head, he sighed and placed a hand on my forearm. ‘Look, this artefact your dwarf acquired, our artificers are placing nullifying spells around it. You can’t help them, so please focus on something only you can do. I want you to use vivamancy to enhance the potency of this extract.’
This was the first proper task he’d given me requiring my unique power. Yes, I’d used it in training, but never on anything designed for a patient. My palms grew sweaty, so I hid them behind my back, suddenly less sure of my abilities than I had been a moment ago.
‘Roksana, you know your craft, your limits. Trust yourself as much as I trust you,’ he said, and I had an unsettling feeling he was setting me up for another test.
Still, he was right. It was far better than waiting around, so I shook my head, giving him the answer. ‘Fine, I’ll try.’
An hour later, I was nursing the mother of all headaches. The pressure pushing my eyes out of my skull was unbearable. However, I’d done it. I’d increased the potency of the extract to such a high level that a single teaspoon was enough to make ten bottles of the potion.
I stared at the bottle, where tiny flecks of gold swirled in chaotic patterns, and wanted to dance to its unsung melody. Instead, I lifted it to the light, grinning like an idiot.
‘If I can do this, what else can I do?’ I whispered to the bottle.
‘Who knows, who knows,’ Ciesko mused, pulling the bottle from my hands.
He hummed with pride, preening in front of the healers who picked it up, as if he’d single-handedly modified the plant extract. I just sat there, quietly wishing he’d get a boil on the end of his. Still, if not for his teaching, I would never have learned a single spell.
I drew the pattern for fire as Ciesko discussed dosages with the apothecary. A small flame blossomed on my fingertips and danced between them, carried by the strands of aether until itsshape reminded me of a warrior on his horse, features hidden behind a wolf’s lupine grin. They galloped over my palm, the mischievous smirk feeding a bittersweet yearning that made me sigh.
I missed Rey. Our last encounter still made my body ache. His tenderness, his whispered plea, burned with passionate intensity. I knew his flaws, his ruthless, obsessive focus when he made decisions… or the temper that overtook him when his iron will slipped, and I wanted it all.
‘I hope this potion helps your men,’ I whispered when the tiny horse reared, hooves sending sparks across my palm. ‘You need to return to me. I have so much to tell you.’
Rey never hid who he was from me, his wild magic, his responsibilities, his emotions… but I kept so many secrets. I locked them away, and I shouldn’t have. Not from him.
‘Sana, would you stop playing with fire? The artefact is being brought up. Prepare a space while I send for Tova and Riordan,’ came the exasperated order from behind me.
‘Yes, Master Ciesko,’ I said, snapping my fist shut. It snuffed out the flame, and I sighed, looking around for a suitable bench. The box should already be warded, wrapped with a nullifying spell like a cobweb, but drawing the containment matrix wouldn’t hurt. The surgeon’s table was the biggest, so that was where I focused my efforts.
A moment later, I was cursing, wiping another mistake from the wood where I’d smudged another line. Creating sigils was precise work. They required focus, not a tired mind wandering in every direction.
‘Roksana? Oh, that’s what you’re doing. Fine, but please be careful, and remember what I told you,’ Ciesko said, standing behind me.
‘Of course.’ I nodded, forcing a deferential smile while internally seething. I’d thought we were past this. Even knowingCiesko didn’t trust me to create high arcana spells alone, he could’ve trusted me enough to not breathe down my neck while I worked. I drew the first circle of runes, tensing at his exasperated sigh.
‘Be careful with that sigil, Sana. Runes must be precise; otherwise, you disturb the flow of the aether, and that will affect the wards.’
‘I am being careful,’ I said, shaking my hand to remove the stiffness in my fingers.
He didn’t say a word, placing his hand on mine, guiding me until the lines confidently flowed over the wood. My sigh wasn’t frustration, definitely not. I was new at this, so Ciesko was simply using this as a teaching moment. However, with the healer’s pointers, I corrected the double spiral, then added the Chur Rune[1] to the centre of my design. The boundaries of the spell glowed as my aether flowed through the rune, and a shimmering veil formed on its borders.
‘Good, good. Now hold it steady and strengthen the spell. You’ll sense when the sigil is full. Then tie it off,’ he muttered, directing me until the stream of aether stabilised. ‘See this gentle fluctuation? Smooth it down as much as you can, but without overdoing it. That would strengthen the boundary.’
I worked for half an hour, making slight tweaks to the energy strands with my fingers until the veil fully formed and reached its maximum strength. It was exhilarating to feel the aether flowing from my fingertips, tingling gently as I saturated the spell. Ciesko smiled, nodding each time I added something that strengthened its core. Emerald light dominated the neutral white of the sigil.
‘It’s beautiful,’ I whispered, realising that under Ciesko’s guidance, I had created one of the most complex warding spells I’d ever seen. ‘How?’ I turned towards him, confused. Hispatronising smirk would have infuriated me in the past, but I’d learned it meant he was proud of my achievement.
‘I’m not sure. Vivamancy is a lost art, and I’m learning it with you. There’s something unique in how you alter the spells to make them work, even if they aren’t using your natural attribute.’ He pointed to the warding spell. ‘See the green tint? Your ability merged with the spell, transforming its characteristics.’
I touched the opalescent wall, shaking my head in wonder. ‘What does that mean for me?’
‘Only time will tell, but if you work hard, even spells I thought beyond your reach might be possible. You’re a mystery I look forward to unravelling,’ he said, reminding me how, during our first meeting, his unbridled enthusiasm made me feel like an exotic specimen.
‘Let’s not revert to treating me like a stuffed basilisk corpse.’ I waved dismissively, but his words made me swallow hard. The endless possibilities those few simple sentences opened were more seductive than a siren’s welcoming embrace.
I could be anything. A Poison Mistress and…
