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“Spheres, that’s sour.” She grimaced, making a note of it.

Rylan laughed. “Foxweed will do that.”

The researcher had become a great friend, and not just because he was knowledgeable about ingredients and potion work. It was nice to be around someone who didn’t know her before the war had changed her.

“If you told me what you’re trying to do, I could potentially be of help,” he said.

“You are of help. You’re the most helpful drug dealer I know.”

He laughed. “Well, your suggestion about the onyx seed was very useful.”

“Did it work?”

He nodded. “It did. Then the vial exploded, but it was a great start.”

Rylan had one of the most ambitious projects she had ever heard of. A potion to shield the user from any spells and, unlike a shielding spell, nothing could penetrate it. Not even Dark Magic. That was, if he ever could get it to work.

She made a face. “That’s not really what you want.”

“No, I would say having people explode while using a defensive potion would be less than desirable.”

She heard a flutter and a scroll dropped next to her, but she wasn’t fast enough in grabbing it before Rylan had seen the initials on its black-and-silver silk bow.

He snatched the parchment, admiring it up close. “My, my. Is that Aidric Dawson writing you scrolls?”

She didn’t need to answer his question, thanks to the A. D. marked on the scroll in silver. “It’s nothing scandalous. He’s my training partner, unfortunately.”

Snatching the scroll back, she unfurled it discreetly.

I have to talk to you. Obryn found something interesting.

Dawson

Mira took her fountain pen, magic ink, and a plain scroll out of her bag and wrote:

I’m in the middle of studying at the Circular Hall. I can meet later.

—Winters

She sent the scroll and focused back on her notebook. “Where were we?”

Dawson materialized out of thin air in front of her. He pocketed his coin, and his eyes narrowed at the Caster next to her, who instantly grabbed his things and got up.

“I’ll take that as my cue to leave,” Rylan said. “See you, Mira.”

When he disappeared, she turned to Dawson. “It seems we have to work on your manners.”

“My manners are just fine.” He appeared even more vexed than usual. Staring at her confused for a moment, he asked, “What are you doing?”

“Working on my potion.”

“In the Circular Hall with a Caster?”

“Evidently.”

He shook his head. “Obryn checked the name. It’s an alias.”

“For who?”