Page 20 of The Noldrin Witch

Elise nodded.

But just as she was about to set off on her journey, Morgaine extended her arm, holding a blue vial in hand. “Drink this,” the witch said. “Repeat this chant after taking it and when you need to defend yourself: By root and stone, let strength make its home.”

“What will it do to me?”

“You’ll see,” Morgaine smirked. “It’s one of the rarer potions, and it lasts only an hour, so you would do well to make some haste.”

Elise said the chant and gulped the thing on the spot.

“Good,” Morgaine said. “Now go.”

Chapter 10

Elise was just getting used to the fresh breeze reaching more skin than usual. She had contemplated grabbing a cape, but she was determined to pass whatever test Morgaine had set for her. She walked on, keenly aware that rather more of her bosom was within grasp than she would have preferred.

Bound by fewer rules of propriety than one might have assumed at first glance, she was ready to teach any scoundrel a lesson if a hand reached where it shouldn’t.

Morgaine had given her precise instructions on how to find the apothecary. “Henrik is always there. Tell him you come with an errand from me.”

As Elise left the forest and approached the city, she found herself hoping a mirror might present itself along the way. She knew the dress fit her well, but she had never worn anything so revealing. The tight bodice accentuated the flesh of her hips and bosom, the fabric of the blouse too thin to offer any real privacy to her limbs.

Before long, she became aware of every inch of herself. Even the slit in the skirt seemed determined to make introductions on her behalf as she walked.

From a distance, she noticed a handsome young man coming toward her. He was perhaps two years younger than she was, though she could not tell until he drew nearer. Instinctively, Elise lowered her head. But even then, she felt his gaze as he passed within a pace. Driven by curiosity, she lifted her head for a glance.

The moment her eyes met his, the handsome lad smiled at her so widely that it startled her. It was as if he were looking at a miracle, a sack stuffed with gold in the middle of the road. Elise could tell the young man was graced with good looks: his blond hair framed a square face with icy blue eyes. His body was of the same persuasion, shaped with particular care; she could have admired the good composition of the lad, but she was taken aback by the expression on his face.

After that brief interaction, Elise was eager to find a mirror, a pane of glass, or any reflective surface that could tell her more of her newfound condition.

At first, she had been thrilled at the idea of coming back to the city. After two weeks in the solitude of Morgaine’s house, she was beginning to miss the sound of chatter and the simple act of walking among houses and shops. Now, however, she was not so sure.

She went around the wall surrounding Metz. The waiting line by the gate was longer than she remembered, so she was glad to have a byway. She pushed aside the bushes covering the opening and composed herself once she reached the street.

The narrow cobblestone roads tangled into alleys that served the city up and downhill, leading her soon enough to the town square.

The timber-framed houses with plastered walls and steeply pitched roofs all around Metz looked more beautiful under the sunlight. The center of the city was more crowded than it had been the first time she had set foot here, but it was the lively atmosphere that reached even the third and fourth levels of the surrounding houses that held her attention.

Morgaine had told her to follow the upper street and turn into the one bearing the sign of Poisoner’s Alley. The city streets were divided by trades, Elise soon gathered, and she found herself wondering what other bargains took place on a street with such a name.

Murmurs from women followed Elise as she passed, along with turning heads and glances from half the crowd. She walked briskly, as some dared to shout a few compliments and offer their company to wherever she was going. Elise tried not to look around too much, hoping not to confirm the suspicion that she was indeed not from the city.

She held the pocket she had fastened to the outside of her skirt. Her coins were secure, and she was already on the street with the right name. In her haste, she noticed people trying to greet her with some familiarity, but she did not return the attention, using her long dark hair to conceal her face. She had not yet found a mirror or the opportunity to look at herself properly, but the reaction of others had been a loud enough approximation, and with no shortage of imagination, Elise already had a good idea.

She thought of Morgaine and how she moved about with the most effortless nonchalance she had ever seen. For a moment, she wished for half her confidence, and perhaps none of its consequences.

Elise walked some more until her sight found a wooden sign hung above an old door, its chains creaking softly. A mortar and pestle had been carved into it, though time had softened the details enough to invite guesswork. She squinted her eyes and was almost sure she read the word “apothecary.”

Once inside, the dim light and the strong scent of herbs, along with other less pleasant aromas, quickly enveloped her. The place had a small receiving room for customers and was lined from floor to ceiling with shelves. She approached the counter, hoping to find someone to help her.

“Henrik?” Elise called into the space that seemed to stretch beyond the thick wooden counter, but still no one came to receive her.

Perhaps he’s not here. Better wait.

Elise set herself to the noble task of ferreting about the whole room, reading the strange names of the herbs on the shelves, moving signs, and even shaking a few jars with suspicious contents. She left no corner untouched, and she was starting to feel that the more she poked and prodded at things, a portion of knowledge was being absorbed in the process.

Back in Noldrin, she had visited apothecaries, but this was different. She doubted any physician would search for a sane remedy in a place like this. Even the wood of the shelves looked centuries old, and it smelled no different.

She was so distracted thinking if Morgaine knew the use of all the items here that she failed to notice when a tall figure stepped behind her.