Chapter 65
CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE
Briar
The healer’s workroom was full of different potions, herbs, spices, plants, and any tool I could imagine to create a potion. I couldn’t have dreamed of a better workplace for myself.
I drank it in while I walked around the room with my pail in hand, Gizzi on my shoulder, and Zephyr fluttering around, talking about the kingdom’s new ruler. I had no idea how we’d gotten on this subject, but here we were.
“Now, I’m not saying Knox is a complete dick; I’m just saying he’s at least three-quarters of one,” Zephyr said.
His words drew my attention away from the glass vials full of herbs. “How can someone be three-quarters of a dick?”
“Oh, it’s possible. And he’s the worst three quarters.”
“There’s a worse three quarters?” I asked in disbelief.
“Of course there is. The area down by the balls,” he said with a serious expression as he waved at his groin. “There’s all that hair and dangling testicles. It’s not very attractive, and I say that as a man.”
Gizzi’s laughter rang in my head as I chuckled. “I can’t argue with that.”
“No one can. Now, usually he’s three-quarters of a dick, but there are times when he’s a full-on dick.”
“I can’t argue with that either.”
Zephyr grinned at me. “So, is this room to your liking?”
“It’s perfect. Thank you for bringing me.”
“If you don’t mind, I’ll hang out to watch you work.”
I liked Zephyr, but his words irritated me. “Are you afraid I’ll create a poison for the plants too?”
He looked at me in surprise. “No. I have nothing else to do, and I’m curious about what you’re going to make. We sprites don’t use potions; our healing energy comes from within us. It’s our gift.”
“Sorry,” I muttered as my defensiveness ebbed; I felt bad for overreacting. “You have an amazing gift, but, unfortunately, I don’t share it. I need the earth moss to help me.”
“And we need all the help we can get. Trying to keep everything alive is exhausting.”
His gray eyes were sad as he settled on one of the black countertops and folded his wings against his back. It must have been exhausting for these marvelous creatures, who thrived on life and nature, to fight a constant battle against death. It couldn’t be good for their souls.
“I know,” I told him. “But you’re doing an amazing job of it.”
He brightened a little. “We are.”
“Do you work on the rosebushes outside the castle grounds too?”
“Yes. Some of them respond better to us than others, even in the castle.”
I’d seen the differences in some of the roses. The one I’d discovered in the woods was barely hanging on, but some of the ones in the castle looked as bad.
I didn’t know what caused the differences in some; it could be that the essence of the shifter remained and was hanging on better than others, or it could simply be their location. I’d love to discover the answer, but I didn’t know how.
“What about the roses in the woods?” I asked. “Do you tend to them too?”
“We don’t go far into the woods anymore,” he replied.
“It’s too dangerous. We go outside the castle walls and into the town, and we’ll travel through the forest closest to the walls sometimes, but no further than that.
I’m sure you could tell that by the trees you passed on your way here.
They’re doing far worse than those in the castle and surrounding it. ”
“I could.”
I set to work gathering what I’d need to make the potion. Using the spigot over a white basin, I poured some water into a cauldron, built a fire in the stone fireplace, and set the cauldron over the flames.
While I waited for the water to boil, I gathered the hairs from my pail and removed some lavender oil from a shelf. I could create the potion without lavender, but it helped bring out the oil inside the hairs faster.
I swirled some of the lavender oil into the cauldron and stirred it with a large wooden spoon. When the water started boiling, I carefully placed the hairs into the pot and stirred until they emitted a sweet, earthy scent.
After another hour, I wiped the sweat from my forehead, removed the cauldron, and set to work establishing strainers to remove the hairs from the liquid before storing the potion.
It took a while for the mixture to cool enough to pour it into the glass containers, but once it did, I made quick work of filling and stoppering them.
Once I finished, I lifted one of the glass containers and gave it a little shake. The mixture was cloudy, as it should be, but no debris littered it.
“I’m ready,” I told Zephyr.
I didn’t realize how sweaty and sore I was until my back protested when I straightened up. My clothes cleaved to me, hair stuck annoyingly to my face, and my muscles ached from being bent over the glass jars, but it was good work, and I’d enjoyed doing it as a child.
“Then let’s go,” Zephyr said.
He led the way out of the room and on toward my bleeding heart. For the first time, doubt filled me; it had been years since I’d made a potion.
What if I messed up? What if I kill the poor plant?
I gulped at the possibility, but I had to try. If I succeeded, then I’d have a purpose again, but if I failed…
If I failed, I’d probably end up locked away again, possibly forever.