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“Get that health inspection, or I won’t be coming back here when Silver Claw’s mystery meat spawns a new evil.” He turned the corner, heading off down the street, and called over his shoulder, “And give my theory some thought.”

“Later, Darien,” Sylvan called.

“Enjoy your lap dances,” Darien called back.

“Oh, we plan to.”

42

Loren sighed. “Look, I know you’re scared that something is going to go wrong, but you need to let me try it. We’re getting nowhere.”

Agatha was sitting across from her in their usual training room in the school for botany. Loren’s suggestion had the hedgewitch casting a furtive glance at the bottle of eyedrops. The Venom sat near the edge of the table, looking fairly harmless, all things considered.

Loren tipped up a brow. “Well?”

A sigh slipped through Agatha’s lips. She leaned forward, folding her arms on the table. For a minute, she fiddled with the long sleeves of her dress—purple today—and then she pinned Loren with a serious look. “And what am I supposed to tell Darien if you overdose or—worse—die?” Loren didn’t have an answer to that.

She shifted in her seat. “I won’t.”

“How do you know? I don’t really like the sound of this, Loren—”

“Agatha, please, I am begging you. I just want to understand my magic, okay?” She was met again with silence. Silence, and apprehension…and likely some lingering disbelief that she had magic at all. Loren didn’t blame her; after all, a human having magic was unheard of. It was a miracle Agatha was still willing to do these lessons with her.

Agatha sighed. “If anything even remotely dangerous happens—”

“Then you can call him, you can call an ambulance, you can call law enforcement and rat me out for buying drugs.” She grabbed the bottle that weighed more than it looked. “I give you permission to do whatever you need to. Just let me try this.” She twisted off the cap and eyed the tip that was blackened with Venom. The tarlike smell was so strong, it instantly permeated the room and made the plants by the windows rustle their leaves in disgust.

“Loren…,” Agatha tried.

But Loren tipped her head back and dripped one drop into each eye.

The research she’d done on the drug had been correct in saying that it stung on impact. Her eyes instantly watered, and her surroundings blurred together until she could no longer distinguish between Agatha and anything else in the room. She closed her eyes, the floor beneath her feet spinning and spinning and spinning…

The clock on the wall indicated the passing of two minutes with a heavy ticking that filled the silence. When those two minutes were up, and her eyes had stopped burning, the floor beneath her feet motionless, Loren opened her eyes.

Agatha jolted back in her chair, nearly tipping it over. She grabbed onto the ledge of the table, steadying herself, but she continued to gape at Loren, her mouth hanging open. “Holy Star.”

Loren blinked. “What?”

“Your eyes.” Agatha’s throat bobbed. “Your eyes, they are…they are solid white.” She got up and walked over to a desk at the far side of the room, the hem of her dress swishing on the floor. She rummaged around in the drawers, the contents knocking together noisily, until she found a small hand mirror. She hurried back over. Loren took the mirror from her and looked at her reflection.

Agatha hadn’t lied. Her eyes were solid white, and there were white lines webbing away from her eyes, ending just shy of her cheekbones and the hairline near her temples.

“Can you see okay?” Agatha sat back down in her chair.

“I can see fine.” Nothing looked different. “What do Venom users usually look like?”

“Like you, except with black eyes and black webbing.”

Loren didn’t know what to think of that, but she set aside the mirror and looked at Agatha, who appeared more than a little terrified. “Let’s try this again.”

Agatha drew a deep breath. “Alright. Take your conduit. Cup it tightly. Close your eyes and concentrate.”

Loren followed her instructions. She focused as hard as she could, willing her magic to show itself. But nothing felt different, and as the seconds ticked by, she began to grow frustrated.

With her eyes still shut, she asked Agatha, “Are there any further instructions you can give me? I can’t feel anything.”

“Actually, I’ve been meaning to ask you something,” Agatha began. There was something off in her tone, something that made Loren nearly open her eyes, but she resisted. “How did you end up dating Darien, anyway?” The random question made Loren’s forehead crease.

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