Page 82 of The Noldrin Witch

Morgaine listened with absolute delight. So Sebastian still hoped they might rekindle their romance one day. He had certainly proved as much. After all, he had refused to wed, and from everything she had heard about life at court, she knew that meant waging war against practically everyone.

Still, combative as the unreasonably handsome man seemed in matters of love, Morgaine was a woman of strong will. Not even the most romantic tale would persuade her to surrender her freedom.

“Well, well, let me see what you have there, and let’s figure out this little potion,” Morgaine said, once satisfied with a few more details about Sebastian and the couple of compliments Elise never failed to slip into her tales.

“Why didn’t you use the mirror anyway?” Morgaine asked.

Elise took the little thing from her pocket. “I couldn’t make it work this time.”

“Let me see.”

Morgaine turned the mirror over in her hands. She had forgotten to remove the small cover from the red gem. No wonder the girl had always had trouble using it. She discreetly uncovered the gem, and of course, said nothing to Elise about the little mishap.

“It’s an old thing. Let me give it a chant so it can recover its full power,” she said.

On the spot, Morgaine babbled a made-up chant and handed the mirror back to Elise.

“Try it.”

Elise did, and Morgaine took out her own mirror. In a matter of seconds, the glass came to life. The girl looked at her as though she had just witnessed a miracle.

“Morgaine, you are incredible,” Elise said.

Morgaine gave a small shrug. “It comes with experience, my dear.”

*****

The next morning, Elise held in her hands what Morgaine was certain was the very thing the potion needed to work. It was neither a missing ingredient nor some secret root, but the primal fire only a witch’s flame could provide. Elise was still unable to conjure her own flame for brewing potions, but Morgaine had concentrated hers into a red candle that looked like it was worth a hundred gold coins.

Needless to say, Elise was prepared to perform the miracle in the workshop. That was, until a walking miracle appeared before she could utter a word about the magic fire.

Fabian had finally rid himself of his infamous red leggings.

The new trousers were not particularly becoming, but they were different, and everyone seemed to notice.

People immediately began murmuring. Gwern rushed to the fairy as though there were no such thing as bootlicking too early.

“Fabian,” she squeaked. “My team and I worked all night, and we finally came up with the final potion.”

A flicker of disbelief crossed Fabian’s uncomfortable expression, but eager to see the Healing Potion finished, he let Gwern guide him toward the cauldron area and grabbed a vial to test what everyone hoped would be the final brew.

After taking a sample of Gwern’s potion, Fabian moved to the corner where the large glass containers held the green liquid carrying the illness.

Fabian dropped some of the potion into the green liquid, and to everyone’s amazement, it began to clear.

Fabian turned to Gwern. “You did it!”

The whole workshop cheered. Even Elise felt compelled to give a few claps.

“That little pest. I bet she received help from Fabian,” Emery muttered in displeasure.

Conrad remained silent, standing beside Emery more out of obligation than conviction.

Gwern held her chin high as she swept her gaze about, her pride reaching heights no mortal should venture. Then, without warning, a loud pop came from the testing container. A cloud of dark smoke rose from it and dispersed, leaving behind the once-green liquid now a dense black sludge.

“Those fools,” Emery whispered to Elise.

Smoke began to spread through the workshop.