Page 47 of Unveiled

“No,” Laird insisted, panicking now. “No more experimenting. The last one made my ears steam.”

Connor perked up. “Oh? Did it actually? Like a kettle?”

“Yes,” Laird hissed, mortified. “I whistled.”

Adrian covered his mouth to keep from laughing.

Luciana turned to the Apothecarist triumphantly. “See? That was you using raw mandrake.”

“That was barely raw—”

“It was practically still screaming,” Laird shouted.

Connor leaned toward Adrian. “If we run now—”

“They’ll drag us back,” Adrian said flatly.

As if summoned, both Luciana and the Apothecarist spun toward them with unsettling intensity.

“You two will decide,” Luciana declared.

“The fate of the potion rests in your hands,” the Apothecarist added gravely.

Laird straightened and appeared desperate. “Please pick the one that won’t explode.”

“Or whistle,” Adrian murmured.

“Or glow,” Laird added louder.

Adrian sighed. “Why don’t you test both versions and see which works?”

Silence. Then Luciana and the Apothecarist lit up as though he had offered them forbidden magic.

“Of course,” they said in perfect unison.

Laird shot to his feet. “No. That is the opposite of what I want.”

“Too late,” Luciana said, grabbing a skillet.

“Far too late,” the Apothecarist agreed, reaching for a ladle with the joy of a man about to cause chaos.

Laird turned pleading eyes to Connor and Adrian. “Save me.”

Connor clapped him on the shoulder. “We’ll supervise?”

Adrian groaned. “We’ve created monsters.”

Luciana brandished the skillet triumphantly. “No. You’ve created science.”

Laird stood stiffly in the centre of the Apothecarist’s workshop, looking like a man being marched toward his doom.

Luciana bustled around him with far too much cheer for someone about to administer something that glowed faintly and hissed. “Right, you big delicate flower. Version One first.”

The Apothecarist placed a protective cloth over himself, Connor, and Adrian with the solemnity of a man preparing for war. “This may or may not stain the soul.”

Laird whimpered.

Adrian stepped forward, trying to be supportive. “It’ll be fine.”