Page 29 of The Prince and the Ice King

“It didn’t go… terribly.”

Shayla snorted, and Reardon wondered if she’d been watching long before she called for Reardon to help her forage.

Looking over the ingredients more closely, Reardon recognized everything that had been added to the pot, and when the wizard started straining juniper berries, he was certain of what they were making—a regeneration potion, similar to what Shayla must have given the wolf, but for slower-acting effects that replenished a person’s energy throughout an entire day.

It was strange seeing a being made of lightning handle, well, anything. Liam could clearly still hold things, and yet it almost looked as though the carafe the berries were in, their yellowed juice ripe for use, merely floated amidst a tiny storm.

Reardon frowned at the strained juice when Liam set it on the table. “If I may say, sir, muddling juniper berries instead of infusing water with their juices allows for better sustained regeneration, even for soldiers doing long patrols.”

Liam crackled, his fierce eyes shooting to Reardon like he might fire a bolt at him.

“I mean no disrespect! But the difference in stamina is staggering. Barclay and I helped our High Alchemist test it when we were teenagers.”

“I’ve tried telling him,” Barclay muttered.

“And I’ve said no,” Liam snarled. “This is how we have always done this recipe.”

“Even with a second voice added, speaking the same logic?” Reardon tried.

“If it will shut you both up, fine,” he snapped, turning to retrieve a bundle of fresh juniper that he threw on the table beside the juice, along with a mortar and pestle. “I don’t need two of you nagging me. But if you know a thing or two, Emerald Prince, then you do the work.”

Reardon did know a thing or two and held his ground, sliding the mortar closer and placing the berries inside. He mashed them swiftly with the pestle, breaking the skins and keeping them as part of the mixture to be added to the potion. The final product went down more thickly, but it did work better.

“Barclay is a good teacher,” Reardon said as he ground the berries. “Alchemy isn’t part of just anyone’s education in Emerald, only if one chooses it, and I wanted to learn.”

“Reardon is a quick learner.” Barclay continued stirring the potion, a necessary step until everything was added. “He takes to alchemy more naturally than almost anyone else I’ve ever seen. Better than me, really. You’ll want him as my replacement before you know it.”

Reardon blushed at the compliment.

Liam regarded him more carefully then, following his movements as he finished mashing the berries and added them to the cauldron in slow chunks while Barclay stirred.

“Any magical affinity?” Liam asked.

“I don’t know.”

Another crackle of lightning rose from him, and he pointed a sparking finger at Reardon, drawing a design in the air that formed a visible rune, like an M or a gateway door, simply hovering there. Reardon didn’t know what the rune meant, but he watched in awe at the way it glowed a brilliant red, and then pulsed away from Liam right toward him.

Reardon flinched, but the rune didn’t pass through him; it paused just in front of his chest and shone its soft red light all across his body. The light felt warm, like standing in a pool of sunshine, but when it faded, the rune turned gray and fizzled like falling ashes.

“Not an ounce,” Liam said in distaste—causing Reardon’s chest to feel like that fallen rune, scattered into dust, though he’d never realized how much he might want to be magical. “Which makes you useless.”

“Like me?” Shayla said, arms tightly crossed as she stared him down from her perch beside the other table.

If a demon made from the eye of a storm could look like a child caught doing something naughty, then Liam managed it with a ripple of light across his features. “You’re not completely devoid of magic. Most people have at least some affinity. Besides, you’re skilled in other ways.”

“Not ways you’ll be experiencing any time soon.”

Liam crackled, and Reardon’s face burned hot. They must be close if she could tease him likethat.

The silence was as charged with static as Liam himself. Reardon looked to Barclay, but he and Caitlin were distracted by the final steps of the potion, adding the last few ingredients, and then—poof, a cloud of purplish smoke billowed up as if a person were inside puffing on a pipe. Barclay ceased stirring, and Caitlin moved off to get several vials for them to fill.

Reardon tried to take the second ladle she returned with, but she ignored him and kept it for herself. She still hadn’t spoken to him directly since showing up with Liam in his room yesterday. Leaving more cold-resistance potions outside his door had helped her avoid him yet again.

“Did you have magic?” Reardon asked Liam for something to fill the air other than smoke and irritation. “Before the curse, I mean?”

“All elves have some magical ability,” came his reply, eyes remaining on Shayla. “I was the king’s wizard long before I became this.”

Anelf. Reardon hadn’t realized, but as he looked at Liam now, he saw the lightning forming long points at the end of his ears in perfect outlines of the real thing.

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