Page 9 of A Taste of Silver
"Then cover them again."
"You think I didn't try?" He slammed his palm on the counter, rattling glass vials. "The cloth burns. The wax melts. Nothing holds."
I kept my expression neutral despite the ice forming in my chest. "What do you want from me?"
"You have to fix this." His voice cracked on the last word. He shoved a heavy leather pouch across the counter, coins clinking. "Whatever it costs. I don't care. Just... name your price."
"I'm an herbalist, not a?—"
"Don't." His eyes went sharp despite the exhaustion. "We both know you're more than that. The way you looked at that mirror, the way it responded to you..."
The silver threading in my gloves pulsed. "You're mistaken."
"Am I?" He leaned closer, and I smelled desperation mixed with expensive cologne. "Then explain the silver light pouring from my windows. Explain why every reflection in my house shows the same thing now—a serpent watching, waiting."
My throat constricted. "For what?"
"For you." His voice dropped. "It only speaks one word, over and over. Aurea."
The headache behind my temples exploded into white-hot pain. I gripped the counter to stay upright.
"Bind it." Eirian's hands covered mine, his skin fever-hot. "I'll give you anything. My entire fortune if necessary. Just make it stop."
I pulled free from his grip. "Binding a creature like that... it's not simple herb-work."
"Then use whatever it is you're hiding." Desperation made him bold. "I know about the texts, about the old magic that still runs in certain bloodlines. My family has connections,resources. We can protect you from the Crown's agents if you help me."
"Your family." Understanding dawned. "You knew what you were doing when you hired me. This was never about voices in mirrors."
His face went still. "Does it matter? You're here now. The creature has noticed you. We both need this resolved."
Before I could respond, something caught my eye on the desk, a folded paper that hadn't been there before. My name written across it in Melora's careful script.
I picked it up, broke the seal. Inside, three lines:
Some doors, once opened, consume both key and keeper.
I've gone to delay what's coming.
Trust no one who offers easy answers.
Before I could read it again, the paper crisped at the edges and crumbled into fine, weightless ash that vanished before it could hit the floor.
"Well?" Eirian pressed. "Will you help me or not?"
I thought of the serpent's eyes, constellation-bright. Of silver petals that shouldn't exist. Of blood I suspected would run silver if I dared to check.
"I need specific ingredients." I forced the words past the lump in my throat, keeping my voice level. Each syllable was a carefully placed stone over the chasm of panic that had opened inside me. "Some of them... difficult to acquire."
"Money is no object."
"It's not about money." I moved to my shelving, running fingers along labeled jars. "Some things exist between realms. They can't be bought, only found."
My hand stopped. Behind common feverfew, hidden in shadow, sat a glass container. It was unnaturally cold to the touch, seeming to absorb the candlelight around it, drawing my eye. It was filled with silver petals that pulsed with a soft, internal light.
Moonbloom petals.
They'd been extinct for years, wiped out with the Sorcerer-King's fall. Yet here they were, fresh as if picked this morning.
