Page 3 of Only Flames Remain

I opened my mouth to speak—to protest whatever it was that was about to spill from the soldier’s mouth—but his stern voice cut me off.

“Majur is no place for the prince’s…consort. Get inside before I drag you back to King Faris myself. All humans must remain inside.” The word human dripped with disdain as it left his chapped lips.

He turned.

“Until when?” I asked at his back.

I could see his broad shoulders lift, then drop with a heavy breath of annoyance. He turned his head only enough so that I could hear his words among the bustling crowd in the marketplace.

“Until I say so. King’s orders.”

It had only been a few hours since I had seen Kallias, and he hadn’t mentioned anything about a curfew…

Enora shot me a warning glance, and I grasped her arm, dragging her with me toward the apothecary. I bunched my skirts in my fist once more so they wouldn’t catch between my legs. I pushed through the crowd; my sights set on the row of shops facing the docks ahead.

Right before the sky opened up and saturated us with spitting rain, we pulled the old wooden door to the apothecary open, allowing it to close heavily behind us. I wiped the smattering of raindrops that hit my brow from my skin, catching my breath as I gazed out the shop window.

Something felt…off.

The air was heavy with the incoming storm; the chatter of the market crowd so loud it bled through the shop door. My pulse was hammering in my chest as I gazed across the sea. The storm was too thick to see the mountains of Gothryn beyond.

My mother closed the cabinet behind me and I startled, clasping my chest.

“Lost in your own thoughts?” She laughed, leaving an empty glass bottle on the oak counter before her.

I nodded. “You startled me. I thought you would have gone home by now.”

She shook her head at me, her gaze drifting toward the empty bottle before latching onto mine once more. “I wanted to make sure you got everything you needed.”

“I did.” My voice was tight as I bustled behind the counter, pulling a few of the henbane leaves out of my satchel and placing them in the empty pestle resting next to my mother’s hand.

“I’ll leave you to it, then. I’ll see you tomorrow for the summer solstice?” she asked.

“We wouldn’t miss it for the world. The summer festival is my favorite,” Enora answered for me, leaning against the counter as she watched me work.

I didn’t gaze up from my task, the jingle of the bells on the door signaling my mother had left. I turned to the curio cabinet behind me and procured the amber bottle with crushed herbs she had already prepared for me. I popped the cork top off and spilled some of the mixture into the pestle. I ground the henbane and the prepared mixture together, adding a dash of the crushed mandrake when Enora had her back turned.

I returned the remainder of the herbs to the cabinet and pulled out a dark green extract, adding enough to the bowl so the herbs lifted to float at the top. I funneled the mixture into the empty glass bottle my mother had left me, giving it a thorough shake.

“Enora, would you mind grabbing my book from the stockroom?” I asked, pretending to search behind the counter for something.

She nodded, disappearing behind the seashell curtain strung across the archway. As I watched her figure vanish from sight, I pulled the stopper on the bottle, filling the dropper with liquid. I opened my mouth, placing one, two, three drops of the tincture under my tongue. I pressed my eyes shut as the sour, bitter taste assaulted me.

No matter how many times I took the poison, I would never get used to the gods-awful taste. Enora might not understand it, but mining and administering poison was simply a part of herbcraft.

Over time, I had built an immunity to the poisons. I had studied plants all my life, and I would be damned if I was ever taken out by my own trade. The castle was a dangerous place, and I needed to be mindful of that. We were human, without the benefit of common magic at our fingertips. We needed to craft our own advantage. Mother had shown me how to titrate the poisons when I first began studying herbcraft as a young girl. We had both been taking them to safeguard ourselves ever since.

They had no effect on me now.

Despite its dreadful taste, I was now immune to the harmful side effects stirring within.

Enora reappeared, the seashell curtain rattling in her wake as she reentered the main shop.

“This one?” she asked, holding up the worn navy coverlet. Its sun-bleached pages were visible between the grip of her long, elegant fingers.

“That’s the one.” I gave her a tight smile as I moved toward the door, slipping the tincture into my dress pocket.

This would be enough to get me through the next week, at least. Possibly two.