35. Chapter 35
Chapter 35
My pity party lasted a good five minutes; there were tears and even some silent wailing into my pillow. Then I took a deep breath and started plotting. I hadn’t become Coven Mother and Crone by letting adverse conditions define me. Heck, I hadn’t had a familiar for much of my life and that hadn’t stopped me from achieving success. I believed in myself, and I wasn’t going to stop now. I had allies and they were coming to help me – but for now I would help myself.
I had no idea how many familiars I was supposed to save in the UK, but the number of blood vials would give me a pretty clear picture of how many evil witches I needed to find and root out. I suspected my father would withhold the treatment from some of the less-privileged few so it might not give me a total picture, but it would be more knowledge than I had now. I would brew their damned potions and, whilst I was brewing them, I would brew another one. A secret one.
I started preparing some ingredients. As I chopped them, my brain was free to think. I hadn’t been kidnapped to prepare this potion, as my father would have me believe, but because I was the only one who could completely control the harkan crystal. Anyone could make this potion, including the pet potion mistress who would apparently be checking on me hourly.
My father had my notes – they were warded, obviously – but I had no doubt that some judicious use of some evil runes would reveal them. So, what was his motivation in having me make the potions? Perhaps he didn’t trust his potion mistress. That was a distinct possibility but I couldn’t help sensing there was another reason – one I was missing. Maybe he was just trying to get me to relax into my surroundings by making me do something routine, lull me into a false sense of security. That felt very possible. Well, I wouldn’t be lulled.
A click from the lock was all the warning I got before the door banged open and a cloaked witch barged in. The seer-bespelled cloak hid her features, but I knew it was a woman because of her petite stature. I kept my face neutral .
She glanced at the ingredients I was preparing, then went to leave. ‘Wait!’ I said. ‘How many cauldrons should I prepare?’
She exhaled sharply as if she were annoyed but came back into the room. She went to my notebook, picked up a pen and wrote down the number fifteen. Then she walked out, slamming the door behind her.
She was avoiding speaking to me, which suggested that I knew her. My stomach sank: I was pretty sure I did but I didn’t want to show my hand like I had so foolishly with Shaun. I’d make damn sure to hold my tongue this time.
Fifteen potions meant I had fifteen evil witches to root out. The Goddess sure was planning on keeping me busy – and that was without even thinking about the Domini. One thing at a time.
I looked around my delightful holding cell. Thankfully there were windows, but only the thin one at the top opened. With the best will in the world, I wasn’t crawling through that.
I opened it anyway to get some fresh air and ventilation for my brewing, and whilst I was opening it I peered out. I guessed that I was on the second floor; the ground was some distance away but not terrifyingly far. There were bushes surrounding the building, making it look well-cared for, and in the distance were rolling hills and lots of grassland.
I recognised the hills: we weren’t far from Edinburgh. No wonder Mack had knocked me out for the journey; neither of us would have enjoyed a four-hour car journey together. It also meant that night was falling, which was handy. The other potion that I wanted to create had a far longer brewing time, so I would start it, pretend I needed to stop for the night, then continue to beaver away in secret.
Armed with my wits and a plan, I felt much better. It would take more than a kidnapping to get me down. I was going to make sure my father regretted the day he’d conceived me – if he didn’t already.