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“Finally, the thorn,” Professor Maxim says. He’s wearing a thick gray glove and holds a single red thorn in-between his thumb and finger. “While it might be toxic, when added in the correct proportion with the correct ingredients, we can turn even the blood thistle’s thorn into something good.”
He glances at me and winks. I like him even more than I did from the beginning. It’s so refreshing to see someone finding good in all this.
With a dash of drama, he lets his arm hang over the pot a moment before dropping in the thorn.
A cloud of smoke rises from the pot followed by a hissing noise. Professor Maxim pulls off his glove and sets it aside before returning with a long wooden stick.
He mixes the smoking mixture until the hissing sound stops. Finally, he removes the stick and trades it out for a ladle.
The liquid he removes from the pot is purple and shimming with an opalescent sheen. It’s beautiful and I find myself moving closer to it, drawn in to the sweet smelling potion.
The rest of the class moves forward, too. It’s as if we’re all compelled to get as close as we can to the liquid.
Professor Maxim smiles and holds the ladle out for us to see. “Any guesses on what we created?”
“Is that a reviving potion?” Corbin asks.
I look over at my handsome demon. Sometimes I forget just how smart he is.
“It is,” Professor Maxim says. “Even with the most deadly ingredients, we can help sustain life.”
“What does it do?” I ask, returning my attention to the professor.
“It can bring someone back from the brink of death,” he says.
“That’s a valuable potion,” Corbin says.
“Indeed,” the professor says. “And one of the most often attempted. Here’s where it gets people in trouble, though.” He returns the liquid from his ladle to the pot. “It’s not ready yet.”
“When will it be ready?” Someone asks.
“It must sit for six nights,” he says. “Then, in order for it to work, it has to be combined with one other ingredient.”
“What ingredient?” I ask, fascinated.
“Blood,” he says simply.
“Not just any blood,” Corbin whispers.
Professor Maxim is answering other questions but I turn to Corbin. “What kind of blood?”
“Blood unwillingly given,” he says.
“That sounds about right,” I mutter. Because of course, a potion this beautiful and this uplifting has to have a darkness about it. It’s like everything in this place. All the good is lined with something darker.
When we end class, I’m a tangle of emotions. There’s good here, but I’m always waiting for the bad that follows.
