Page 35 of The Nowhere Witch

I took the seat opposite him. “No.”

“That’s crazy. One of the most important discussions people have, and from a young age, is how much magic they have. It determines so much of their future. Didn’t you ask? How did you not want to know?”

“When I first got here, I was set on getting out. Then, for a while there, I wasn’t sure it was such a good idea to know, because it seemed to increase the attention I was getting. By the time I was back in Salem, other than Rabbit, there was no one to ask. And even if she could shed some light on it, I wasn’t asking her. She’d just lost everything because she’d run out of magic. How could I bring it up with her?”

“Well, now that we’re talking about it, if you weren’t infinite, that wall you built would’ve wiped you out. That was an epic amount of magic to lay out. Even for a Maker, I wouldn’t have been surprised if you’d slept for a week after that one. The fact that you got out of bed the next day means you replenish fast. I don’t know enough about the upper magic workings, but I’d say you got dealt a good hand. If those hags want to get you out, they might go for something like this first, trying to weaken you.”

“Okay, so what do we do?”

He pointed to a trunk in the corner “We aren’t doing anything. You are going to go through that basket of supplies while following the instructions.”

I brought the book over to the trunk he’d pointed to and opened it up. There were all sorts of bottles and flasks, filled with powder, liquids, and goopy things. They all had faded labels that looked a hundred years old.

“Is this stuff still good?” I tried sneaking a discreet sniff of the contents.

“Yeah. The trunk was spelled to preserve it.” Zab’s breezy answer wasn’t a real trust builder.

I went through the list, finding the corresponding items, trying to not think of the names. Sometimes, though, when I was looking for frog guts, pigeon eyes, and tongue of a long-deceased liar, it was a bit tough to pretend this wasn’t what it was. It all came down to one thing: how bad did I want to stay in Xest? I’d gag, pause, and continue.

I assembled all of the items in the cauldron warming on the stove. “Now what?”

“Just stir. Whoever stirs the pot infuses their magic into the potion. That spoon acts as a conductor.”

Fifteen minutes later, we were bubbling up to a nice boil. The stuff smelled horrible, but my magic, for once, didn’t act up. Or I hadn’t thought it did. The stuff I’d made smelled like a rotting corpse.

“I’m not sure about this. It smells like an aging potion,” I said to Zab, who was flipping through some more potion books on the couch, dog-earing quite a few.

He got up and poked his head over the cauldron. “No, that’s right. I’ve smelled this before.”

“How are we going to test it? I don’t want to be any younger.”

He stared at the cauldron. “Neither do I. I’m not sure. Maybe we could give Musso some? He could handle getting a couple years knocked off.”

If he wasn’t offended by the offer, that would lead to other issues. “He’ll tell Hawk.”

“He might not have said anything, but I’m sure Hawk has heard about this already. He hears everything.”

There was a difference between Hawk hearing and reminding him. He hadn’t said anything yet, and I was going to try to keep it that way.

“I don’t want to tempt Hawk to get involved, and I feel like bringing this to the office in any way would.” In Salem, there would be a line out the door for a place offering youth. How much different could it be here? Certain things had to be universal.

“How many years will this take off someone and for how long?” I asked.

“Depends on the witch or wizard who made it. With your magic, it might take off decades. I’m not sure how long it’ll last. Once in a while it’s permanent, but that’s really rare. I’m not sure how strong you are, so it’s hard to say. Plus, they aren’t done a lot because they use up a lot of magic. That’s why there aren’t only twenty-year-olds in Xest. They’d deplete all their magic trying to stay young and then die early. You’d need to be an Infinite to keep it going.” He leaned over the cauldron again, taking a deep whiff. “Sure smells strong, though.”

I kept stirring, not sure if this stuff could burn. “So the stingier someone is with their magic, the less they have?”

He walked over to the trunk while he answered, “Sometimes. Other times they’re stingy because they don’t want people to know how much they have. It’s also considered bad form to throw magic about a lot. It’s like bragging.” He was rifling around in the bottles. “Ah. Here we go. You can use this to bottle it up until you find a tester.”

I glanced back at his trunk of old stuff. “Hey, do you happen to have a map of Xest in there? Or some book on the lay of the land? Just in case they ask me questions about the geography?”

“Sure.” He went to a shelf in the corner and handed me a rolled parchment. “You can keep it. I don’t need it.”

“Thanks.”

“You ready to call it quits for the night? You’re probably pretty tired after that.” He took another look at me. “Aren’t you?”

I wasn’t tired at all, but I did have some other things to handle. I faked a yawn.

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