Chapter 22
The next day, Zafir adopted an attitude as if the infatuation elixir incident had never occurred.
I followed his lead and didn’t mention it either.
He continued to give me etiquette and court protocol lessons in the morning so I’d be passable as a duchess, but he didn’t offer me flirting lessons, and I didn’t ask.
I also didn’t ask him to do my makeup again.
It was tempting, though. When he’d told me that he had offered just so he could be close to me, it had been flattering.
I was still a woman, after all. Every woman wanted to be flattered from time to time, and Julian’s overly exaggerated compliments hadn’t seemed nearly as sincere as Zafir’s drug-induced ones.
I scoffed internally. Fake acting versus drug-induced compliments wasn’t much of a choice.
In the afternoon, Zafir went about his normal duties and I began experimenting with my own potions.
I’d expected Zafir to object, but instead of getting upset that I was using his things, he didn’t seem to notice at all, other than occasionally correcting me or changing ingredient ratios in my notes.
He hadn’t commented on the potions I’d taken back either.
Surely he would have noticed they had gone missing again.
“Does my working here bother you?” I asked near sunset.
“It’s fine. You don’t seem to be as incompetent as most apprentices,” he told me gruffly, eyes sliding over to meet mine before dropping again. “And you’re stirring too fast again.” His hand covered mine and slowed the rotation. “The heat will dissipate too quickly. It needs time to simmer.”
A chill ran over my body at his touch and I fought to keep my expression in check.
He didn’t let go and I didn’t throw him off.
I couldn’t decide if I liked Zafir touching me or not.
It certainly was noticeable, if nothing else.
When he’d taken the infatuation potion, he’d found reasons to touch me.
Was he doing the same thing now, or was it merely coincidence?
My mirror on the table shone silvery and the glass turned foggy. I leapt to pick it up, suddenly glad for an excuse to avoid touching Zafir.
“Nadia, it’s—” I broke off, looking closely at her face. “What’s wrong?”
“Guards started putting up wanted posters for me today,” she whispered. “Rahil has men looking for me now, too. Not just you.”
My heart stood still and I felt Zafir move in closer to me. “Can you get out of town?” I asked softly. “Or contact Eldridge. Maybe he can help.”
She shook her head. “There are people watching the worship center. I can’t get in.” Her eyes filled with tears. “I’m scared, Alia.”
“We’ll figure it out,” I told her, trying to sound more confident than I felt.
If Rahil was looking for her… Images of his knife plunging through the air made it impossible to breathe.
Try as I might, my memories with Rahil began flashing through my mind at blinding speed, pushing out all other thoughts, but this time, my sister was the one about to get attacked, and my fear of Rahil turned into blind rage.
I fought to keep my voice level and choked out, “I’m working on a plan to get back to Brisden, but it’ll take some more time. Can you do anything until then?”
She shook her head again. “I tried to make that Chameleon’s Tonic you told me about last year, but I don’t have any powdered hen’s teeth,” she whispered miserably. “This is the worst birthday ever.”
I immediately felt even more dreadful. I’d been so absorbed in my own struggles that I hadn’t even remembered my own sister’s birthday. Now, Rahil was hunting for her as well as for me. He knew she had the other mirror. Would he try to force information out of her?
Zafir placed his hand on my elbow. “Can I talk to her?” he said in a low voice.
“Who’s that?” Nadia squeaked.
I hesitated, then held the mirror so Zafir’s face was visible. “Nadia, this is Zafir.”
Without any preamble, Zafir told her, “A substitute for Chameleon’s Tonic can be made without powdered hen’s teeth. It won’t be quite as effective, but it can work in a pinch, particularly if you move at night instead of during the day. Do you have any access to ashvine?”
“Ashvine?” Nadia repeated. “That’s just a weed.”
“If you can find some in bloom, it’s a weed that can be crushed to be substituted for powdered hen’s teeth. Do you have any?”
“Yes.”
“Good. What other ingredients do you have?”
Nadia wiped her eyes and began listing out everything she and I had kept in our tiny hovel of a hideout, and Zafir listened patiently, asked her to move the mirror closer to a few things so he had a better look, then began to tell her what to add to the small cauldron I used to brew illegal potions.
“Add more essence of feverfew,” he told her, “and whatever you do, do not get it mixed up with scorchwing venom or you may go blind,” he told her. “Prop up the mirror so you can show me exactly what you’re doing.”
I couldn’t take my eyes off Zafir as he coached Nadia through making a substitute Chameleon’s Tonic. His eyes were riveted on the mirror, calmly walking her through each step without even looking at his notes.
No man had ever been so attractive to me in my entire life.
It took him more than an hour to teach Nadia, but he stayed patient the entire time, and his unruffled air seemed to calm her.
“I think you’ve finished it,” he finally told her.
“You need to let it sit for three hours, but then it will be ready. Paint it on your clothes and skin and it will make you blend into your surroundings. You won’t be invisible, and it won’t last more than a few hours at best, but it should be enough to get you out of town or somewhere safe if people are looking for you.
If you need, I can walk you through the same steps when you get to the next city and we can repeat the process until you are far enough away that no one is looking for you anymore. ”
“Three hours?” she repeated, writing in the dirt next to the cauldron.
“Three hours,” he confirmed. “And Nadia?”
“What?”
He nodded solemnly. “Happy birthday.”
A bright smile broke out on her face. “Thanks.” She looked at me. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay?”
“Okay. Happy birthday and stay safe,” I told her, then watched the mirror’s reflection until it went foggy and Nadia’s face faded.
For a long minute, neither Zafir nor I said anything.
“Thank you,” I whispered at last.
“For what?” Zafir asked. He was also watching the blank mirror, which now reflected our own faces.
I turned to him. “You helped my sister.”
He shrugged. “If I’d been able to save my sister, I would have. I knew how to help and she was scared. It isn’t a big deal.”
“It’s a big deal to me,” I told him. “So thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
We locked eyes. I really should find a way to properly thank him for helping Nadia. What could I do that he would appreciate?
He swallowed and rose abruptly. “I made tea earlier and forgot to tell you. It’s probably cold by now, but I poured a cup for you.” He gestured at an abandoned cup sitting on a saucer.
I took it and drained it. “It’s good cold,” I lied. “A little bitter, though.”
“You seem more bitter than sweet most of the time,” he quipped. “I thought it would match your personality.”
I rolled my eyes and tried to go back to my experiment, but as Zafir sat next to me to do his own work, I kept getting distracted and couldn’t stop glancing his way. A thread was sticking up from his collar and I felt an overwhelming desire to fix it.
I forced myself to focus on what I was doing. My potion needed to simmer for twelve minutes, and I kept losing count as the minutes trickled by. I looked over again and saw the same loose thread sticking up from his collar.
“Hold still,” I finally told him, leaning over to tug at it. Instead of snapping off, it yanked more thread out of the surrounding fabric.
“Hey,” he protested, pulling back. “What are you doing?”
“Just wait.” Keeping a firm grasp on the thread, I reached across him for the small knife on his desk. Flames alive, I liked the feel of him being this close to me. Touching him sent tingling rushes all throughout my body, and my cheeks grew warm in the most pleasurable of ways.
“This’ll just take a second,” I assured him, but made no rush to snip the wayward thread and move away. I dawdled as long as I could before finally cutting the thread and holding it out for evidence, one hand still on his shoulder.
How had I ever imagined that Zafir was dull or uninteresting?
He was brilliant and resourceful and devious in the best of ways.
He was talented and handsome, and any woman would be lucky to be with him.
He would be a loyal companion. There was no risk of him wandering off after other women; that was a benefit of his ceaseless working.
My hand trailed along his shoulder then rose to graze his neck, and heat crept up to warm my cheeks.
“That was longer than a second,” he said quietly. “Your potion is probably ruined.”
“Probably. But I have to make sure there aren’t any more loose threads.”
His goatee was always so neatly trimmed.
I ran my fingers over it, marveling that Zafir hadn’t told me to get a grip on myself yet.
His fingers grazed my side so lightly it felt like a feather brushing across my skin’s surface.
Was he teasing me just as I had teased him when he overdosed?
If so, he had endured sheer agony. I ought to pull back.
I ought to…but I couldn’t. What would it be like to kiss Zafir?
Had he studied the art of kissing just as rigorously as he had studied all the other sciences he was familiar with?
“Do you have any loose threads?” Zafir whispered.
“You should probably check,” I told him, just as softly.
His hand crept up a little higher to stroke my back. Every moment was heaven. His eyes were searching my face, just as I did the same to him.