Page 20 of Violet Thistlewaite Is Not a Villain Anymore
“Several of these are quite difficult to procure,” he said in a low voice. His breath hitched as he reached the bottom of the list. He looked sharply back at the man. “Minotaur horn? Powdered hellstone?”
The two ingredients were not only rare but extremely volatile even on their own.Combinedthey were pivotal ingredients in a number of dangerous weapons.
“Familiar with alchemy, are you?”
“I spent ten years in the Crucible.” He scanned the rest of thelist. Acacia and rue were easy enough to obtain, but curare was a dangerous paralytic, and mane of marea? That was outright illegal.
The man smiled. “A man after my own heart! What in Rava’s name are you doing in this craggy mountain backwoods?”
Nathaniel’s mouth tightened. “This craggy mountain backwoods is my home.”
The man smirked, and the anxious ball of unease in Nathaniel’s chest grew and hardened into dislike.
Nathaniel knew when Guy Shadowfade was defeated that his death created a vacuum. For years, they’d been under the sorcerer’s thumb, and that had been no picnic, but in a way, his power had kept them all safe. No one had dared to interfere in Dragon’s Rest and risk angering a dangerous mage like Shadowfade, but now that he was gone, there was nothing to stop anyone else from moving in and staking their claim—and the people of Dragon’s Rest, left all but destitute from decades of hardship, were in no position to fight it. Nathaniel wasn’t inclined to feel positively about anything that troubled the waters of his careful life, and the man before him might as well have been a giant rock tumbling off the mountain toward the surface, ready to make waves.
“I’m afraid I’m unable to sell you some of these ingredients,” he finally said, his voice several degrees cooler. “We don’t keep them in stock.”
“Ah.” The man paused, assessing Nathaniel with new eyes. “Might you be able to procure them for me?”
“No,” said Nathaniel without hesitation.
The man’s eyes flashed. He understood the message. “I see, Mr.…?”
“Marsh.”
“Mr.Marsh, then. Thank you for your time, and for allowingme into your…” He looked around the apothecary, one corner of his mouth curling. “Fine establishment.”
Nathaniel bristled, hearing atoneunderneath his words, the thread of an insult snagged and pulled taut.
“If anything changes, do send word my way, would you?”
“Certainly,” said Nathaniel politely, but something about the man made him know he wouldn’t.
“I’ll be staying at the Claw & Hoard. You can ask for Sedgwick.” He smiled again, with his whole mouth this time, and it brought to mind nothing so much as a dog baring its teeth in warning.Come closer, that smile seemed to say.I dare you.“You never know. Perhaps something will sway your mind.”
Rough Around the Hedges
Marsh Apothecary, read the A-frame sign in elegant, curling handwriting.Today Only, 10% Off All Teas.
Violet sidestepped the sign—she’d need one of her own, she decided, adding it to her mental to-do list—and slipped in through the front door, smiling cheerfully at her landlord behind the counter. “Good morning,” she said. “I wonder if I might have that shipment you so graciously received for me?”
She’d awoken before the sun this morning after a sleepless night, sure she must be the first one in all of Dragon’s Rest out of bed, only to find a note on her worktable in the greenhouse in the same neat script that was on the sign:
A crate for you was delivered to my shop yesterday evening. In future, please be more precise when indicating your address.
Sincerely yours,
N. Marsh
The N. Marsh in question was visibly repressing a scowl at the sight of her now. He wore a sweater vest today, bottle green over a cream, collared shirt that lay unbuttoned at the neck, just enough for Violet to notice the way his throat flexed as he strained to be civil around her. Was it really so difficult for him to be friendly? She’d worked for Guy Shadowfade most of her life, and even she was having an easier time of it. Violet recalled Pru’s words from last weekend—He’s always been a bit rough around the edges. With an internal grumble, she wondered how long it would take her to get past that gruff exterior. She didn’twanthim to dislike her. Moons, she was supposed to begoodnow! Being good meant being likable, didn’t it? Maybe she needed to try harder.
“I’ve put it in the back room,” Nathaniel said now, his tone clipped. He spoke to her the way he always did, with a voice like velvet rubbed against the grain: a bit prickly, and enough to make her body flash with the sense she’d done something wrong. “One moment, if you don’t mind.”
“I don’t mind,” she said sweetly, and he disappeared through a doorway. Violet contented herself looking around the apothecary. It smelled pleasantly of herbs in here, a cacophony of scents both familiar and foreign. She browsed through the shelves and display tables, delighting at the names of ingredients she’d never heard of before and opening a jar of skin cream markedSAMPLEso she could inhale the eucalyptus and lavender scent. She dipped a finger into the pot and rubbed some onto the underside of her wrist, savoring the creamy feel of the lotion on her skin.
When Nathaniel reemerged from the back room, a bulky crate in his arms, Violet was just putting the lid back on the jar.
“This is lovely,” she said, holding it up so he could see what she meant.
