Chapter 11

11

LECTURE NOTES FROM HERBOLOGY 101:

Elixirs are herbal only, whereas potions are both herbal and charmed. Charms are a temporary form of magic, diminishing with a set time. They require a carrier, so an herbal liquid is common.

T oday was not her birthday. How old was she? Who was she? Those were not questions Thessa needed to worry about this evening. She’d spent enough years doing that.

This night was for feeling less, or more, or something else—anything but her thoughts.

The sun faded, leaving skinny ribbons of gold weaving through the dark sky. She could barely make out the two males serving mead beyond the crowd of witches. Soren had been right, they were flocked. She even spied Noam and Rhetter waiting in their line.

Thessa and Leora eyed each other, agreeing to flee. They skirted right, towards the food .

The Elemental in the tent before them was finger-searing meat sticks. He held a wooden skewer in one hand and used a flaming-finger from the other to crisp the edges.

A few Cheltz later, they were eating goat thigh on sticks and headed toward the next tent. The one full of botanicals.

Waiting in line, Thessa engulfed her meat. The bitter char on her tongue tasted heavenly as she glanced around the tent. The elixirs and potions were arranged by color, in different vials and pitchers. The lighter the color, the milder, according to the signage.

Many Botanical witches were masters of chemistry. If not healing, they were often found gardening, tea-tending and brewing concoctions for various purposes.

Thessa stared at the specials listed on a hanging chalkboard with Leora. For the mood-bending effect she desired, Thessa would need a potion.

Leora had left the choice up to her, not encouraging, nor discouraging.

The vendor eyed Thessa now, awaiting her order.

“One Violet Dream, please.”

“Make that two,” Leora added.

“That’ll be five Cheltz each.” The Botanical witch with silver hair but a face of youth, drummed her bone-thin fingers along the make-shift bar top.

As Thessa reached into her satchel, Leora dropped ten coins in the vendor’s open palm. The witch closed her fist and spun around. “This one’s on me,” Leora said, smiling.

“You didn’t have to?—”

“I know but I wanted to, and I secretly wanted the same thing. Good choice.”

“Thank you.” Thessa half-smiled as she read the description again .

Violet Dream: butterfly pea flower tea with added euphoric and energy boosting effects.

When bony fingers flashed before her, they were holding two vials that contained no more than a gulp. Snatching their mood-benders, Thessa and Leora ditched the tent.

Witches were everywhere now, some in groups and others coupled.

Standing there with lush grass under their clogs, Leora questioned her, “Are you sure you want to take this?”

If Leora was searching for hesitation, she wouldn’t find any. Thessa tipped her head back and gulped the potion down.

“To the music?” Thessa asked, tossing her vial and stick in the nearby bin.

“That answers that.” Leora followed suit.

Hand in hand they walked across the field, toward the sounds of flutes and fiddles. Some witches were sitting for the show, but most were dancing. Thessa moved along with the music, entering the crowd.

With the potion setting in, her body felt lighter, and her mind buzzed with—nothing. Nothing at all. She and Leora danced together for a while, before parting into their own moves.

The bottom of Thessa’s white dress muddied as she twirled. She didn’t care about the dirt. She didn’t care about anything other than the music and the handsome fiddler who kept eyeing her. His mahogany eyes and hair were so beautiful. So was Leora, and everyone else around her.

A male voice cut across her ecstasy. “Think you could get away without your fair wages, did you?”

Thessa and Leora whirled to see Emiel standing under a string of lamplight. Soren stood behind him, like a shadow .

Leora launched with her arms outspread. “Emiel!” She hugged him as if he were her long-lost friend.

“Someone found the potions tent, I see.” Emiel smirked as Leora squeezed. His cheeks turned as bright as his hair. “Go on, take your mead,” Emiel pleaded, working desperately not to spill the glasses in his hands.

Leora pulled back and flashed a smile, swiping it from him.

Emiel eyed Soren—who was holding two glasses of mead—and jerked his head towards Thessa. She went to take one, but Soren’s grip was too strong. It splashed over the rim at her attempt.

“Are you sure you didn’t want both?” She asked, brows scrunching.

“You don’t need any mead, you’re?—"

Thessa rebutted, “It was one potion. And we earned this. Hand it over.” She really wanted to taste it after all the jabber about wildflowers and honey.

Soren spoke through his teeth. “Vulture.”

“Enough.” Emiel eyed Soren, shushing him.

Soren—now sour-faced—gave her the mead. “Fine.”

Thessa retrieved it with a spiteful smile.

“Well, we must say a toast,” Leora said. Nothing would break her spirit.

“That we must,” Emiel countered, tipping his glass to meet Leora’s.

Thessa’s glass followed next, and Soren’s last—as if he was forced against his will.

Leora laced her voice with elegance. “ A wise witch once said, leave strife for yesterday and bestow what’s ahead; forever we are blessed, so let’s raise a glass instead. ”

After their rims clinked, Thessa took a big sip.

Delectable wasn’t the word, it was realm-shattering good. As mead fell down her parted lips, she wondered how long Soren had watched her. Long enough to see her wipe it away, she supposed.

Soren snapped his focus to Emiel. “We need to get back.”

Leora pressed Soren. “But Emiel just told me all the mead’s gone, what for? Can’t we dance?”

“The hosts would like us to clean ,” Soren pressed back, flashing his teeth. There was something different about them, or maybe Thessa was envisioning sharp things. Years of forging would do that to a smith.

Emiel shook his head. “We can clean it later, let’s enjoy the music first. Come on we never get to?—”

Soren ignored him and walked away.

Thessa didn’t care, she was back to dancing.

“He’s not always this angry.” Emiel spoke over the music. “Well, that’s not entirely true, but he doesn’t mean any harm.”

Leora shook her head, sipping her mead and dancing too.

“Emiel, he can call me whatever he wants, your mead is amazing,” Thessa slurred.

Leora cackled and Emiel joined their dance, joined Leora really. It wasn’t long until Ivy and Beatrix found them, squealing over Thessa’s change of heart.

Soon, the greens turned into a blur of lamplight and music. Ivy and Beatrix were nose-to-nose, Emiel and Leora too. Thessa danced and danced, letting the bright sounds of flutes and fiddles consume her thoughts—other than wishing that warm-eyed fiddler would come twirl his fingers through her hair instead of that instrument.

That was until her euphoria was overshadowed by screams of terror. Witches were running about. Some were fleeing, others poised their daggers, but many were jumping as hundreds of juvenile serpents coiled through the field. The grass did nothing to mask their black and blue iridescent scales.

Many scurried between limbs and wrapped around ankles. Thessa saw a cook take a butcher knife to one, only for it to grow a new body from pure remnants. There were daggers swinging all around her now, and the serpents kept multiplying. Some witches must’ve thought continuous chops would yield less serpents. That it did not. Slice after slice; more and more. The field was consumed in minutes.

Thessa stood frozen as Emiel mouthed an apology to Leora before running back toward the tents. Ivy and Beatrix must’ve run for the streets. The crowd moved around her, Leora too.

She’d not purposely stood still. She’d never witnessed a Multiplicity Spell. They were forbidden. It didn’t change the fact that the serpents seemed harmless. There’d been enough to overrun a town in hours—with the wrong kind of retaliation.

They were slithering up her legs now.

The Elemental soldiers were shouting in unison, “Exit the field! Everyone off!”

Most townsfolk had already fled. Many bolted down the cobblestones, while others gathered at the edges of the greens to watch. Though, some were still in the field, in a state of shock, like Thessa was.

The ground was a rippling heap of blackness.

“Get back! No one is permitted on the field!” The soldier before her repeatedly shouted.

Thanks to his piping hot fingers, Thessa woke up. He was flinging the snakes off of her before pushing her chest back and back.

When her clogs clinked with stone, she blinked, taking in the chaos .

Soldiers rallied. Two split off to incinerate the border of the greens, creating a shallow wall of fire. Any serpents that managed to escape were flamed by other Elementals patrolling the area.

With flame, there were no remnants for reformation.

Before Thessa took her next breath, the soldiers set the entire field ablaze. She winced at the onslaught of heat.All the tents, the stringed lights, the potions, the food, the instruments, the chairs, the beautiful green grass, and the sweet old willow tree, were bathing in fire.

A fiery solstice, indeed.

Her upper lip curled as ash feathered on her hair and atop her bare shoulders. She’d never felt more at home in her life. This was what it’d been like living in Gravenport. To think she’d almost forgotten about Andera’s Army of Egomentals while living in Mabelton.

Incinerate and forget , should be their slogan.

Thessa preferred using fire to create, not destroy. How could a power be so beautiful, and yet so ugly?

“Tess! I lost you, are you okay?” Leora was in front of her, panting.

Ivy and Beatrix trailed close behind.

Leora peered at the scorching field behind her. “I’m so glad I found you. This is madness, we have to go home. We shouldn’t be here.”

Home.

The word ripped through Thessa’s chest. She hadn’t known the meaning of it since she was born. She didn’t know who her parents were or where she belonged, and never would.

She walked back to the townhouses with the others. While there was talk about magical serpents and fire, she had no words to share.Leora eyed her when they passed the bay, and the tree where the two horses were no longer tied. Only a wagon with a mangled wheel remained.