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“The harbor markets are all burned out. You know that isn’t what happened. If it’s real, then it’s here. Find it.” He levered an order into the last, a forcefulness to his voice that he’d never been able to find when he was purely human.
It had the desired effect. Ragnar snarled, but stalked off across the carpets, nostrils flared as he scented the air.
Leif followed.
The useless contents of the emptied chests had been arranged on a long, ornate wooden table slated to be carried to the palace as soon as a wagon was ready. It was all combs, and bottles of strong scent; flasks of brandy and hair ties, and the purple paint the Sels used on their faces in battle. Ragnar pawed through tobacco pouches, snuff boxes, silk drawers embroidered, hilariously, with Selesee serpents, sniffing loudly all the while, hairs on his bare arms standing on end.
“The stuff has an odd scent,” he explained. “I thought it might be oil, being black like that, but it doesn’t smell like any oil I’ve ever seen.”
“What does it smell like?”
“Have a whiff when I find it.” He kept sorting: tins of sugared sweets; a box of gold jewelry missed in the initial searching, comprised of dangling earrings, bracelets, and layers of delicate pendant necklaces swinging gems and cast animal shapes; an inordinate number of brushes, the use of which neither could account for.
When the chest was empty, Ragnar ran his hand along its polished cedar bottom, and hummed.
“What?”
“There’s a latch here.” Sure enough, he pressed into a corner, there was a click, and then the whole lower panel lifted out: a false bottom.
Leif wanted to kick himself for not thinking of such a thing.
“I could smell it once I got all the cologne out,” Ragnar explained, as if reading his thoughts. “Have a look.”
Leif stepped up to peer over his shoulder, and, sure enough, there they were: a wide, shallow golden bowl, and a stoppered, black porcelain bottle. There was in fact a scent rising up from it: an odd blend of licorice and mint, and some other herb he didn’t recognize, but which immediately set his nose and eyes to itching. He drew back, swallowing a cough. “Get them out.”
Ragnar braced a hand on the edge of the chest and twisted to shoot him an incredulous look over his shoulder. “Me? You want me to get them out?”
“Yes, you. Beta.”
Ragnar’s nose wrinkled at the title, but he didn’t deny it. “I want nothing to do with this shit. Send one of your lackeys. Or carry it yourself, if you want it so bad.”
“Get them out,” Leif repeated.
After a long beat, Ragnar sighed, turned back around, and reached into the chest as if he were reaching for a venomous snake. He brought the bowl out first, and set it on the rug at his feet. The bottle came more slowly, held delicately between his fingertips, nostrils flared and gaze trained on it with clear alarm.
Leif reached down and took it from him, heard his relieved sigh as he lifted the bottle up toward the tent’s skylight and inspected it more closely.
Even corked, the scent was strong and unpleasant this close. His wolf turned circles within him, shaking its head, sneezing its displeasure. The bottle itself was perfectly smooth, cool porcelain, not so much as a nick or a scratch. And it was heavier than it should have been, as if the liquid he felt sloshing inside was denser than any water or wine.
“Was there anything else in the bowl? Or just this?”
“Just that, as far as I know.”
He picked up the bowl in his other hand. “Right. Come over here.”
Ragnar followed, because an alpha’s command carried weight, but he did so bristled-up and reluctant. “What are you doing?”
Leif placed the bowl in the center of a small utility table they’d set in the center of the tent, ready to be carted. Its surface was worn smooth from use, and narrow. He motioned for Ragnar to stand across from him, so they stood one on either side of the bowl.
“What,” Ragnar repeated, “are you doing?”
Leif sent him a level look, and knew it was a steady, commanding one going by the way Ragnar’s shoulders dropped a fraction. “I’m going to pour this into the bowl, and we’re going to look into it.”
Ragnar tucked his chin and growled. “That is a massively stupid idea.”
“Why?”
“Because I told you what happened when I looked into it before!”
