Chapter 33
Thunder rumbled across the sky. Rain and hell were about to descend upon Metz. Morgaine was glad she was just arriving home after the deed Devon had so generously laid upon the witches. Another army defeated, another day of peace.
That had been the reason Beth had come to Metz. It hadn’t taken much more than one witch to do the job, but Devon, distrustful as he was, had wanted Morgaine to have a little company to carry out the task.
Noldrin was back in the hands of Falaine. It had taken only a simple spell to frighten the horses and a touch of poison in the water, but it was done at last. Beautifully executed.
Now it was only a matter of waiting for the kings to begin negotiations instead of demolishing more of the forests around Noldrin.
With the destruction of the land brought to a halt, it would take only a couple of months for the shield between worlds to return to its former strength.
Bromheim was becoming unstoppable, and even if Morgaine did not like the idea of helping Falaine, it was all she could do to prevent Bromheim from conquering the entire kingdom and perhaps beginning an even greater conquest in the lands beyond.
Defeat for Bromheim during these pesky days of war meant peace for the magical world, and if that meant helping some fools, Morgaine was perfectly fine with it. The only side she bowed to was the delicious side of her bed, which she had missed dearly.
Two nights of flying. One night of work, and now she was ready to return to the life she enjoyed most. She preferred helping people one to one, as she did with her clientele.
There was something wicked about the way people behaved in groups this blessed century.
Perhaps it was the lost belief in female divinities.
Perhaps it was that the price of bread kept rising. That was for others to figure out.
Morgaine skipped to her door, satisfied at last after accomplishing the impossible. She hadn’t lost her touch. At this point, she wondered if there was a challenge big enough for her to fail.
Little did she know, that pleasant thought was about to be put to the test. As Morgaine reached for the bolt on her door, the sight of a woman marching through the forest with the urgency of a crossed lover made her gasp.
She wondered if someone had come to take revenge for the mischief done to the Bromheim army in Noldrin.
That was, until a furious caw announced the visitor with all the ceremony of a royal herald.
“Elise?”
“Morgaine, you have to help me!” the girl cried with enough desperation that Morgaine assumed something truly heinous had happened to the poor soul.
“What is it?” she urged.
“I need to finish a Healing Potion by tomorrow, and for all that’s holy, I just can’t figure it out.”
Morgaine relaxed immediately. She gestured for Elise to come inside, where they could talk by the warmth of the fire. The rain was starting to fall, and she was eager for a change of clothes after the horrid night of warfare.
Once inside, Elise explained the famed challenge that Fabian had set for the entire magical staff.
The whole thing was rather pitiful, really.
There seemed to be no one qualified enough to solve something so simple.
In a matter of days, Elise had already caught up with the entire workshop and was now leading a team on this wretched little quest.
“Darling, darling,” Morgaine said. “Worry not. If there’s one thing I have learned in all my years, it is that the strain of the mind ages you faster than time itself. No burden is worth surrendering one’s beauty over.”
Elise nodded in agreement, though something seemed to still linger in her mind.
“I thought perhaps a chant could seal the deal,” she said. “I studied all the parchments and manuscripts the fairies have in the workshop, and that’s the only thing I can see missing.”
Morgaine raised a brow. “The only thing?”
Elise let out a weary breath. “I almost wish Sebastian had left me fetching things around the workshop.”
“Sebastian, you said?”
Elise went on to explain in remarkable detail everything that had transpired between her and the king.
Morgaine listened with absolute delight. So Sebastian still hoped they might rekindle their romance one day. He had certainly proved as much. After all, he had refused to wed, and from everything she had heard about life at court, she knew that meant waging war against practically everyone.
Still, combative as the unreasonably handsome man seemed in matters of love, Morgaine was a woman of strong will. Not even the most romantic tale would persuade her to surrender her freedom.
“Well, well, let me see what you have there, and let’s figure out this little potion,” Morgaine said, once satisfied with a few more details about Sebastian and the couple of compliments Elise never failed to slip into her tales.
“Why didn’t you use the mirror anyway?” Morgaine asked.
Elise took the little thing from her pocket. “I couldn’t make it work this time.”
“Let me see.”
Morgaine turned the mirror over in her hands. She had forgotten to remove the small cover from the red gem. No wonder the girl had always had trouble using it. She discreetly uncovered the gem, and of course, said nothing to Elise about the little mishap.
“It’s an old thing. Let me give it a chant so it can recover its full power,” she said.
On the spot, Morgaine babbled a made-up chant and handed the mirror back to Elise.
“Try it.”
Elise did, and Morgaine took out her own mirror. In a matter of seconds, the glass came to life. The girl looked at her as though she had just witnessed a miracle.
“Morgaine, you are incredible,” Elise said.
Morgaine gave a small shrug. “It comes with experience, my dear.”
*****
The next morning, Elise held in her hands what Morgaine was certain was the very thing the potion needed to work.
It was neither a missing ingredient nor some secret root, but the primal fire only a witch’s flame could provide.
Elise was still unable to conjure her own flame for brewing potions, but Morgaine had concentrated hers into a red candle that looked like it was worth a hundred gold coins.
Needless to say, Elise was prepared to perform the miracle in the workshop. That was, until a walking miracle appeared before she could utter a word about the magic fire.
Fabian had finally rid himself of his infamous red leggings.
The new trousers were not particularly becoming, but they were different, and everyone seemed to notice.
People immediately began murmuring. Gwern rushed to the fairy as though there were no such thing as bootlicking too early.
“Fabian,” she squeaked. “My team and I worked all night, and we finally came up with the final potion.”
A flicker of disbelief crossed Fabian’s uncomfortable expression, but eager to see the Healing Potion finished, he let Gwern guide him toward the cauldron area and grabbed a vial to test what everyone hoped would be the final brew.
After taking a sample of Gwern’s potion, Fabian moved to the corner where the large glass containers held the green liquid carrying the illness.
Fabian dropped some of the potion into the green liquid, and to everyone’s amazement, it began to clear.
Fabian turned to Gwern. “You did it!”
The whole workshop cheered. Even Elise felt compelled to give a few claps.
“That little pest. I bet she received help from Fabian,” Emery muttered in displeasure.
Conrad remained silent, standing beside Emery more out of obligation than conviction.
Gwern held her chin high as she swept her gaze about, her pride reaching heights no mortal should venture. Then, without warning, a loud pop came from the testing container. A cloud of dark smoke rose from it and dispersed, leaving behind the once-green liquid now a dense black sludge.
“Those fools,” Emery whispered to Elise.
Smoke began to spread through the workshop.
“Take your potions before the smoke spoils them!” Fabian urged.
Everyone hurried to remove their cauldrons from the fire. Elise didn’t need to, since hers was already on her team’s table.
“Go to the gardens!” Fabian ordered.
Conrad, who until then had barely exchanged more than a few words with Elise and Emery, was quick to set the next course of action.
“Let me carry the cauldron while you go and explain to Fabian your idea of the magic fire you mentioned,” he said. “With some luck, the rest of the potions are all spoiled.”
Elise and Emery stood motionless for a moment.
They had already grown used to Conrad’s economy of language.
It was a wonder what a bit of competition could do to a man.
Elise herself could still feel Danu’s energy running through her veins.
It was in moments like these, when danger was close at hand, that she found this particular gift from the male divinity most useful.
“Go ahead,” she told Conrad.
“I’ll see what happened to the other potions,” Emery chirped as he hurried off to gossip around the cauldrons.
Elise nodded.
Everyone eventually made their way to the gardens. Spirits were low, and the hopes of finding the recipe for the Healing Potion even lower. As it turned out, all the potions had suffered from the black smoke. Even the containers holding the illness looked a shade darker.
It all seemed lost. Only Elise and her team faced the disaster with hopeful expressions.
“Our potion didn’t suffer any damage,” Emery announced.
Fabian hummed, his eyelids lowered. “And I suppose what you rascals managed in a day is far better than the rest.”
“Why don’t you see for yourself?” Elise said firmly.
The entire magic staff fell silent.
She whispered a chant to light the candle Morgaine had given her.
“For light and fire, lend me a pinch of your power.”
The flame from the candle proved stronger than a hundred hearth fires, and after only a few sweeps with a wooden spoon, the potion began to boil. They had used the same ingredients as everyone else. Neither Elise nor her team had added a single thing.