It didn’t feel right for her to be here, forced to take up house in a nameless cave on a sea of skulls bordering on the edge of the world. It didn’t feel right that she be forced to live on this lonely beach like a nomad. It didn’t feel right to see her so sad, and it angered me that so many misunderstood.
The taurvi approached to lick at her hand, and a fog cleared from my mind. The rush of affinity I felt for her diminished. My sympathy remained, but it was no longer racked by the growing, passionate force that seized me when she first rose from her vanity table.
“That’s been another problem with these spells,” she said. “A taurvi diminishes magic the way its bezoar does, and only the Dark runes are most effective on it. That is why most rely on Dark asha to put it back into the ground.”
I stared at her. She only shrugged.
“You knew; still you were affected by the charms I wear. Now imagine the subtlety it can wreak on an unsuspecting world.”
12
The Dawnseed apotheca had the most peculiar fragrance, smelling like everything and nothing at once. Scents of orange and thyme and sandalwood warred with durian and dried herring and coal, fighting for supremacy. Dried herbs were stacked on the shelves, and clumps of plants grew in pots overhead, foliage spilling down the walls. Its proprietress, a middle-aged woman named Salika who still managed to look youthful, scrutinized the list of items Rahim had written out, bustled off, and soon came hustling back with a basket full of oddly shaped glass vials and containers. They all held liquids of varying colors. Behind her, an assistant stirred a large cauldron bubbling over a clay oven. It was filled with something too thick to be water.
“Here, Lady Tea. Tell me what you think of this.” I bent my head to take a cautious sniff of one of the bottles Salika offered me, but I could barely get a whiff of the scent before the woman yanked it back, stoppering the lid. “No, this might be better for you.” I leaned forward again, but all too quickly, she had rescinded the offer, picking up yet another vial.
“I think this one would be more to your liking.” This time, she held it long enough for me to inhale a heady scent of strawberries and rosemary. This bottle she set down on an empty tray while she found another. For the next hour, I did nothing but take in smell after smell, and we went through almost a hundred bottles in this manner before the apothecary was satisfied. Of these potions, she set aside only twenty-three on the side tray.
“She is a mix of both Water and Metal and a faint touch of Fire,” she told Mistress Parmina. “Determined and highly intelligent. This is good. She will strive for perfection, and she has a strong sense of righteousness. She accepts change quicker than others might, but she will always be questioning herself and her abilities, no matter how far her training takes her. That is not necessarily a good thing.”
I didn’t know how she could say that much about me by shoving vials under my nose, but because I was “highly intelligent,” I knew enough to keep my mouth shut.
“She must look after her lungs and her stomach, for she is weaker to poisons taken through the air. I will prescribe her gingerroot tea, taken every morning for as long as she is able to. She will not require any further modifications when it comes to the lesser spells, but she will need some extensive changes for several of the stronger ones to take hold. It will take some time to make and may be expensive.”
I was expecting Mistress Parmina to grow angry over this new expense, but she looked pleased. “Which ones?”
“The strengthening spells, for one thing. Commonplace magic will have little effect on her. She will get the usual headaches, but she shall see through them easily enough.” She moved across the room, and the jars she selected this time were tinier in size, holding no more than a few ounces of liquid or several grams of powder in each. Finally, she stepped toward the boiling cauldron.
“Dusk mushrooms,” she pronounced, tapping a few of the contents of one vial into the bubbling liquid. “Quickroot,” she said next, sprinkling bits of a green substance into the water. “Eyetails,” she said next, and I cringed at the name. But my fears were unfounded; she added two pieces of pale petals into the mix and watched as they sank to the bottom.
“And finally.” Salika reached into an ornate-looking jar and slowly took out a small gray pebble. I thought for a moment that it was an ant of some sort, because I could have sworn it wriggled between her two fingers. But the woman added it into the cauldron, and it dissolved the instant it hit the hot surface.
“Yes,” she said. “It is part of the bezoar of the taurvi that Lady Mykaela very kindly offered for my collection. It is not a requirement for the potions, but it is an extremely potent addition that will greatly enhance her skills.”
“But why?” I wasn’t sure I wanted one of the daeva anywhere on my person.
“Bezoars help to enhance a Dark asha’s magic, Lady Tea. You’re quite lucky; none of the other apothecaries have had bezoars in such a long time. Kings claim the right to take the bezoars of daeva whose graves fall within their kingdoms.”
“King Telemaine is a good man,” Mistress Parmina said. “This is an honor, Lady Salika. No one has taken a bezoar in their potions since a nanghait was presented to my predecessor, Simika.”
“Because of Lady Mykaela’s generosity, I add this free of charge for you. But I cannot say the same for the other ingredients, which, though a little easier to come by, are nonetheless costly.”
“Well.” Mistress Parmina leaned forward, her green eyes sparkling. “Why don’t we talk about that?”
I sidled closer to Fox while the two women quibbled over price. My brother was inspecting the cauldron, which had turned a bubbling brown after Salika had added the last ingredient. “What’s a nanghait?” I whispered.
“It’s another daeva. I’m told that it’s got a tongue as long as a street.” He turned to look more closely at me. “Are you all right, Tea?”
“I am now.” I looked back at the two women. I could not stop my lower lip from trembling. “Fox, they say I’m to be an asha.”
“I would say that much was obvious, Tea. Isn’t that what you wanted?”
“But I don’t understand. I caused a lot of grief and damage to the teahouse and to many parts of the city. That’s what Lady Mykaela told me, because I hadn’t been allowed outside the Valerian until today. Why would they do this?”
“Think about it, Tea. Given the power you’ve displayed, I would think turning you out with all this magic at your command is the last thing they would want to do.” Fox’s expression softened. “Just say the word, Tea. I’ll throw a few bottles through the displays to distract them, and we can make for the forest outside the city.”