Page 38 of Myths and Manuscripts
“What?” I glanced over at the table covered in fabric and herbs. “No, I’m just here to check on you and get some clothes for Willow.”
“Youngsters these days, always in such a hurry.” Mable shook her head, settling back down onto a chair. “If I stop to gather Willow’s things, then these sunflowers will lose their potency, and I’ll have to lay their petals outside all over again.I need to use them while they’re fresh and full of the sun’s warmth.”
She picked up the pestle again, grinding the softly glowing sunflower petals with a clear liquid. The longer she worked, the more the liquid glowed, as if the light from the petals was being absorbed by it. I felt myself drawn to it as the sweet flowery scent filled the air.
“Grab that.” She nodded at a paintbrush on the table. “And spread a thin layer of this across the fabric. Don’t make it too thick or it will clump up, hear me?”
“Yes, ma’am.” I sat down, grabbing the brush as if this was completely normal. The fabric was soft and so thin I could almost see through it. “Actually, I’ve never done this before. I don’t want to mess it up.”
“Messing up is part of life. You can’t be worse than that so-called apprentice who stopped by earlier.”
My eyebrows rose. “Oh, so you hired somebody then? Willow will be happy.”
“Like I’d ever hire a good-for-nothing like that. Hmph.” Her eyes narrowed, staring at me like she was debating if I was a good-for-nothing too. “Less talking, more working.”
Apparently ordering demons around ran in the family. I felt myself smiling as I dipped the brush into the glowing flower mixture, spreading it as light as I could. The fabric absorbed the liquid, taking on the glow just like how the sunflower fields shined bright after asking in the sun all day. Warmth emanated off the fabric too, reminding me of the cafe with Willow. It wasn’t overly warm, but just enough to stave off the chill in the air.
Once I was done, I cleaned off the brush and turned to her. “What next?”
“Cut the fabric into three-inch squares so we can make them into pouches.” She handed me a pair of shears, then nudged over two jars of dark powders. “Then measure out equal parts ofiron powder and charcoal with that scoop and place them in the center of each square like you’re making a pastry or filled pasta. Add a heat stone to the middle and you’ll be ready to wrap it up.”
I’d never done any of those things, but it seemed simple enough. I set about cutting the fabric, the soft snip-snip oddly soothing. A tiny mossmew curled around my legs, meowing and rubbing up against me. I reached down to pet the mossy animal, remembering the first time I’d visited Willow. These little cat-like creatures had been playing in sunbeams, racing between all the glass jars on the shelves. Willow seemed to have a fondness for them, and I wished she was here to play with them again.
Guilt gnawed at me as I measured out the ingredients the apothecary had given me. I should really tell her where Willow was. She could handle the truth, right? Even if we didn’t have a solid plan yet, it wasn’t like Willow was in danger. She just couldn’t be here...
Mable slapped my hands. “I said equal amounts! Are you trying to set my shop on fire?”
I’d been so lost in my thoughts that I hadn’t been paying enough attention to the hand warmers and had accidentally added triple the amount of one powder than the other. A small flame burst out right before the apothecary stamped it out with a thick pad. She picked up the last few squares I’d been working on and tossed the powders into what looked like a burn bin so the flames couldn’t creep out.
“I’m sorry.” I shook my head, backing away from the table of precious ingredients. “I’ll pay you back for that and more. Whatever you need.”
She sighed. “What I need is to get these finished by the end of the day. Why don’t we take a break before we get back to it?”
“Why don’t I find that apprentice you mentioned instead?”
“You’re doing perfectly fine. Sit, sit!” She waved me back as she pulled a teapot over that was whistling softly. “Do you liketea? Have any preferences?”
I sank onto the chair, not sure how to answer. “Um, what’s Willow’s favorite? She mentioned how nice it would be if you could send some over.”
“She always thinks better with a good cup of yerba mate tea. Calms her down and helps her focus.” Mable smiled, grabbing a glass jar of green tea leaves, one of red, and one that was almost black. “Take all of these with you when you leave. As a thank you for helping Willow follow her dreams. She spends so much time locked up in here, never letting herself go after what she truly wants.”
“She loves being an apothecary though, doesn’t she?”
Honestly, she hadn’t mentioned it much since she’d gotten stuck in my book. I bet there were demon apothecaries she would like to visit. Maybe they’d even have big gardens for her to explore so she could feel like she was back home for a moment, picking herbs on the mountain like usual. Suddenly, I had the urge to go back and show her every beautiful thing the demon world had to offer. Once I found out what those things were, of course. Our trip through town had been more exploring than I’d ever done.
Mable poured me a cup of tea that smelled like grass after a long rain. “She does love being an apothecary, but I’m not sure it’s what she loves most.”
Steam curled around my fingers as the cup’s warmth seeped into my hands. The little mossmew from earlier had somehow climbed into my lap, peeking her head above the table to sniff the tea. Then she curled up, purring as I ran my fingers through her mossy fur, waiting for the apothecary to explain what she’d meant by that.
As Mable settled back in her chair and sipped her own tea, she finally met my gaze. “Willow has experienced a lot of loss in her young life. Her parents, my wonderful daughter, passedaway when she was young. And then my dear husband left us a few years back. It’s made Willow afraid of getting close to anyone or really going after what she loves.” She took another sip of her tea, sitting quietly for a while. “I’m afraid she’s only here because of me.”
The words were so quiet I almost didn’t hear them. I had never experienced loss like that before, but the pain on the apothecary’s face said it all. Was she really the only reason Willow was working here? That didn’t feel right. The way Willow talked about her Gran was full of love and respect, not obligation and duty.
“Even if Willow is only here because of you, I don’t think that’s a bad thing.” I sipped my tea. It was warm and tasted very earthy, verging on pungent. “Doesn’t everyone want to spend more time with the ones they love?”
The apothecary barked out a laugh. “Well, when you put it like that, how can I refute it?”
We sat in silence for a few minutes, drinking our tea while I looked around. The sunlight spilling through the windows shone softly on the plants while jars of medications shimmered like gems. The soft purring of a few mossmews almost lulled me to sleep. This shop felt so different from my barren castle and even more different than the noisy library.
