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“You’re lucky the door was unlocked,” Loren said, “or I wouldn’t have bothered to let you in.” When Erasmus didn’t reply, his mouth hanging open like a fish, she prompted, “If you’re looking to buy something, you’ll have to come back another time. We’re closed.” She started to walk back to the desk.
“Hold on j-just a minute, Loren.”
Loren had to consciously bite down on her irritation as she turned back around. Her blood boiled in her veins at the sight of the man who’d thrown her headfirst into countless problems—the man responsible for the silencing spell on her tongue, the threat made on Darien’s life, the re-emergence of the Phoenix Head Society. Not to mention the imperator’s plans to create his vision of a perfect world.
It was hard to care about the fact that Erasmus was her father when she started weighing the negative against the good—and when she realized there was far more of the former than there was the latter.
As he fumbled for words, he twisted his hat in his hands, looking lost, as always. “Look, I know you’re angry with me.”
She gave him an incredulous look, her blood now scalding. More sweat beaded on her face as she thought of the entrance into Spirit Terra slumbering beneath the city. Another of the many things that were his bloody fault—another problem he was incapable of fixing. “You think?” she ground out.
“I would appreciate the ch-chance to be heard, if you would let me speak.” He paused—just long enough to make sure she would, indeed, let him speak. There was steam blowing out her ears. “I did some thinking,” he began, “after you expressed to me how b-badly you want to help Darien. And I r-realized there is something you could try.”
She crossed her arms. “I could try magic, if someone would just tell me how.”
Erasmus ignored the snide comment. “There’s a tonic that’s widely known in Yveswich to help their hellseher population who struggle with Surges. It’s n-not very well known outside of the city. And after they invented the Caliginous Chambers, most people stopped using the t-tonic. But I traveled there several years ago, so I’m familiar with it.” His mentioning of several years ago made them both flinch.
Several years ago—when he was ignoring the reality of having a daughter who’d grown up without him, and friends who had spent their lives hiding a secret for someone they’d believed was dead. Someone they still believed was dead. He’d deceived so many people; was there anyone left who knew the full truth about her father? About the Phoenix Head Society? She was beginning to think not. Even Taega and Roark…not even they knew the full extent of it.
Erasmus continued, his dark blue eyes sweeping about the cluttered apothecary, “In fact, you might even have what you need right here in this very shop.”
Irritation still prickled inside her, but she had to admit she was intrigued. She could push her father-daughter troubles to the side for a while, if it meant she might be able to help Darien with his Surges.
Loren stared at the vines that were wrapped around the railing of the staircase. “What would I need to make this tonic?”
“It’s quite a simple r-recipe, really. It calls for sixteen ounces of water and four tablespoons each of valerian, blackfire, and witch’s vine. S-steep in hot water, sweeten with honey, and away you go.”
Loren scanned the shelves down below. Two of those things she had, but the third… Witch’s vine was an ingredient the twins didn’t typically stock, since there wasn’t much of a demand for it in the area. Which meant she would have to find some.
Her father was watching her. She could feel his probing stare, but she refused to look at him, instead calculating how many hours of daylight remained. Judging from the patch of sunshine on the scuffed floorboards below, she had about two hours total of full and partial light. Enough to get the ingredients for Darien so she could make the tonic tonight. She couldn’t bear to live through one more night of seeing him suffer.
Erasmus cleared his throat. “Do you have what you need?”
When she pulled her attention away from the bright light on the floor, a square of gray floated in her vision. She blinked it away and turned her back on her father. “I have two things, and I’ll be able to find the third just fine.”
There was a short pause, and then Erasmus said quietly, “Say hello to Darien for me. And l-let me know if it works, will you?”
“I will.” When she spoke again, her voice was tight, and she kept her back facing him. “Thank you for the suggestion.” She walked back to the desk without another word, though she listened to see if he lingered.
Another few seconds passed before the bells chimed with his departure.
Loren finished up the last of the paperwork, ignoring the stir of emotions that told her she had been too dismissive, too cold. Maybe she was too dismissive and too cold. But after how many years Erasmus had forced her to survive without him, believing the whole time that he was dead…believing a lie he’d so carefully built to hide from everyone…
She knew she would forgive him one day—for all of it. She didn’t have it in her to hold grudges, at least not forever. But it would take a little more than the ingredients for a tonic—a tonic that may or may not help Darien—to earn that forgiveness.
Honesty, on the other hand…
She grabbed her tote bag off the desk and changed into a pair of jeans, a t-shirt, and sneakers. When she was finished, she grabbed her small crossbody purse, and then stuffed her heels and dress in the tote bag.
Honesty, she could work with, and it was all she really wanted.
Loren stepped out into the avenue. As she locked the door behind her, the sun warming her head, she thought through her plan.
Witch’s vine could be found in the district of Hooded Skullcap, a place that always had a strong travel advisory due to demon activity. But the sun wouldn’t be setting for a while. If she hopped a bus, she would be able to make it there and back to Hell’s Gate before her safety became much of a concern. She would have to watch out for the assortment of dangers that wandered about in broad daylight, but at least the demons wouldn’t be a concern at this time.
With the other two ingredients she would need to make the tonic tucked into her bag, Loren boarded a city bus. She sat near the front, only three rows from the door. Staying close to exits was a safety habit she would likely spend the rest of her life unable to break.
On the chance that something bad were to happen, she called Ivy and left a message on her voicemail, letting her know where she was going and what she was doing. When she hung up, she set her bags on the floor by her feet and slumped against the window, directly beneath an icy stream of air conditioning blowing from a grubby vent.
