Page 63 of Box of Frogs
‘Wet dog,’ I muttered. ‘I tasted wet dog.’
Artemesia immediately whirled around, speeding back to the bar and hopping over it. From underneath it, she pulled out a massive leather-bound book and began flicking through its pages. ‘It’s just as well that I managed to rescue this from my uncle,’ she said, as much to herself as to Morgan and me. ‘He has to rely on memory while I have the apothecary’s bible.’ She bared her teeth in some sort of a smile. ‘His memory’s not like it used to be.’ She glanced at me. ‘It’s not as bad as yours, though.’
I snorted. Well, that was a given. I walked up to the bar and sat gingerly on a narrow barstool next to Morgan. ‘Why doesn’t the Metropolitan look like this?’ I enquired, while Artemesia continued to flip through the yellowing pages.
‘Some of us choose to maintain a façade for humans,’ he answered. ‘While some of us provide services solely for faeries. The cash the bar makes provides help for many of us. The potions Arty makes do the same, albeit in a different way.’
I pursed my lips. I supposed it made a sort of sense. I knew without asking that Rubus didn’t have the same sort of symbiotic relationships or faery services. There was no longer any lingering doubt in my mind that my old self had chosen the wrong side. I glanced at Morgan. I wanted to tell him that. It might not alter anything between us but I desperately needed him to know. Before I could even draw breath to speak, however, Artemesia spoke again.
‘I’ve got it,’ she said, jabbing at a page. Her eyes danced. ‘Well, well, well.’
Morgan raised his eyebrows. ‘Are you going to share?’
‘From what she’s said, her amnesia wasn’t an accident. It was wholly deliberate.’
I inhaled sharply. ‘Go on.’
‘The taste in your mouth is what gives it away. It’s an after-effect of the potion. Myosotis is commonly termed forget-me-not by humans, for obvious reasons. However when combined with Dragon’s Blood, it has the reverse effect and causes memory loss. If you add a little faery magic into that mix, well…’ She gave a low whistle. ‘The effects can be life-altering.’ She raised her eyes to me as if awe-struck. ‘Cool.’
I wrinkled my nose. ‘Not so much. Let’s back up here a second. Dragon’s Blood?’
‘So,’ Morgan mused, ‘Maddy wasn’t just poisoned with rowan, she was also poisoned with this amnesia-causing potion.’
Artemesia nodded, beaming at him. ‘Yep!’
I held up my hand. ‘Dragon’s Blood?’
‘It would explain a great deal,’ Morgan said.
‘Hello?’ I waved my hand vigorously. ‘I’m still here, you know. Are you trying to tell me that as well as faeries there are dragons? Just strolling around without anyone noticing?’
‘Don’t be silly,’ Artemesia told me. ‘Why on earth would you think that? Dragon’s Blood is a type of tree resin. Real dragon’s blood doesn’t do a damned thing.’
I rolled my eyes. How exactly was I supposed to have known that? ‘But dragons exist?’
‘Apparently,’ she sniffed. ‘Not that I’ve ever met one.’
Morgan seemed unconcerned. ‘The only dragon I’ve heard of near here is Chen and he’s an ornery bastard who hates the lot of us.’
‘Does he breathe fire?’
‘No. He looks just like a human. He can’t fly or perform magic or eat unsuspecting villagers. Generally, all dragons do is collect gold and treasure and moan a lot.’
Boring.
‘Dragons,’ Artemesia scoffed. ‘Honestly! Like things aren’t bad enough with all the faeries and bogles and redcaps around here. At least werewolves and vampires aren’t real.’
I stiffened, shooting her a quick glance; fortunately she was too absorbed with the book in front of her to notice. The same flare of pain I’d felt earlier, when I’d been thinking about mentioning Julie’s ethnicity, snapped through me. I grimaced. That wasn’t fair. I hadn’t been going to say anything.
Morgan, annoying arsebadger that he was, didn’t miss a trick. ‘What is it, Maddy?’
‘Nothing,’ I answered quickly. ‘Except that now I’m more disturbed than ever. You’re saying that someone did this to me deliberately. They wanted me to forget everything I knew.’
‘Notsomeone.’ Artemesia sounded grimly satisfied. ‘Rubus. The only person on this demesne other than me with the skill to create this kind of potion is my uncle. And he works for Rubus.’
So Morgan’s brother had tried to make me forget something, no doubt relating to something terrible that he’d done. He obviously hadn’t been convinced that it had worked because he’d also sent those blasted Redcaps to kill me. I curled my fingers into the soft palms of my hands, digging in so deeply that I almost drew blood. ‘I’m going to kill him,’ I whispered.
‘The truce—’ Morgan began.
