Page 12 of Beast and Remedy
“You gave it the pain tonic, right?”
She nods. “I even pulled the book with the recipe to make sure I didn’t mess up.” Her brown eyes meet mine, filled with regret as she gestures to the smashed vials, the ripped books, journals, and pamphlets all destroyed.
Days blended into nights with how much time I spent in my alchemy room collecting supplies, reading, and learning.
I created and crafted remedies for me, Marian, and my family. I’ve even shared my concoctions with our healers. I’ve treated animals.
And now…
Every record, every ingredient, every bit of information I’ve gathered…
It’s all ruined. Swiped away like it never was.
It’s allgone.
Everything I’ve lived for and achieved in this room these last few years presses against my chest, squeezing my heart. Tightness builds in my throat as my disappointment and woe churn into frustration, trying to fray the threads of my composure I fight and keep a tight lock on.
I clench my fists as I push down my emotions, refraining from lashing out as Marian and I sit in heavy silence.
Marian’s blood stings my nostrils, and I use her injury as a distraction. “Let me tend to your feet.”
She agrees solemnly, the happiness pouring from her this evening vanished.
After grabbing bandages, I help her from the tattered section of my study.
I lower us to the ground, careful the space is clear of debris, before I ease her legs onto my lap. Removing her slipper and inspecting her feet, a few tiny pieces are lodged in her toes and ankles.
“I have to remove some glass, but a bandage and ointment will help with the pain and healing,” I say.
She looks to the disarray of my office, and I grimace, trying to not let her overthink it.
“It is going to be alright.” I pat her thigh twice and then rise to see if I have any salvageable ingredients.
“Is it, though?”
Her defeated voice halts me as I view my destroyed collection.
Each vial knocked down from its stored home, ingredients scattered and mixed, the essence of a few blending with the smell of blood. A churning in my stomach refuses to settlethrough my further inspection of the ruined items covered in bite marks and scratches.
My chest tightens as I find my tweezers amidst the mess, my dark thoughts returning tenfold. What if this was something I did?
Gulping, I brush off the wolf’s escape, keeping my reactions neutral as I face Marian.
Her distant features furrow. “What is it?”
“What is what?” I deflect, sinking down, tool in hand.
She scoots away from my reach, her voice hardening. “What are you not telling me? I can see through you.”
Her brown eyes soften with concern, and I slump. “I think—I think the wolf ingested something to cause its reaction. It could have been before you brought it to my study. Expired ingredients, bad meat—it could be anything. Maybe even the medicine we gave it exacerbated it and backfired, bringing some underlying issue to the surface.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose, frustration seeping through. “It’s my fault for having animals in here in the first place. I should have known something like this would happen. I never should’ve set out on helping them—helping myself.”
“Vi,” Marian sighs.
“It’s true, and we both know it,” I snap, my failure to protect, to help, and to provide clenching my very soul.
Marian ignores my lashing out, squeezing my shoulder twice. She doesn’t need to see me like this.
