Page 37 of Elixir of Strife
“Are you serious? Every single plant has been imbued with decades’ worth of Lyon magical research. Combine that with Edel’s hagriculture? Forget about it. They’re resistant to drought, fire, you name it. What’s a little water going to do to our collection?”
“It’s saltwater,” I said, eyes wild, waving my palm around like it was a loaded weapon. “Bet you didn’t think of that, did you?”
Daniel gasped. “You wouldn’t dare.”
Edel cackled. “Well, now. This is getting interesting.”
“You can’t do it. Please.” Daniel took a step forward. “We never once considered making our plants resistant to — what kind of monster are you that you would salt the very earth?”
I chuckled softly, leveraging my advantage. “You know, I’ve heard that saltwater can be good for some plants. Wanna test that theory out?”
“Oh, mostly marine plants, I’d say,” Edel said, her eyes on the sky as she counted things out on her fingers. “Mangroves do best in them. Algae, I suppose, and — ”
“Can everyone just focus, please?” Daniel’s voice filled the grove, and so did the swell of his panic. “I’ll pay you, already. The price we agreed on.”
I pushed my luck, lifting my chin. “Well, looks like the price just went up.”
“What?” Daniel had turned as red as a tomato, as the tips of Edel’s fingers.
“Or I could douse everything in a light spray of delicious saltwater,” I suggested.
“I’d do what he wants you to do,” Edel said, nodding wisely.
“Whose side are you on, anyway?” Daniel screeched.
Max brushed his knuckles against mine, leaning in to whisper. “I’ve never been more attracted to you.”
Something inside me shuddered. I tried not to let Max’s wildly inappropriate but very welcome compliment distract me. We were conducting business, after all. I had a loaded dragon, and I wasn’t afraid to use it.
“Here, damn it,” Daniel said, hands shaking as he gathered several of the olives, plucking them straight from the nearest tree. “Take them. Just don’t do anything to hurt my babies.”
Edel grinned, her teeth tipped with blood-red. “Ooh. I’d take those if I were you.”
I swiveled my hand toward him, staring cautiously in case he tried any funny business, then accepting some of the olives with my other hand. Max collected the rest, stuffing them in his pockets, maybe about two to three dozen of the things between us.
Who the hell even knew what we were supposed to do with them? We could sell them on, maybe?
Daniel took the bottle, then raked his hands through his hair, absolutely hating what he’d just done, but hating us even more. “And I’ll send you the promised payment as soon as possible. Vera knows I’m good for it.”
“You’d better,” I barked. “We know how to get here, and you don’t want to know what we’ll do if you try and scam us.”
“Very sexy,” Max muttered. “Yeah, this is doing it for me.”
We backed slowly toward the portal. I blinked against the bright morning light, readying my eyes to adjust to the darkness of the shop’s back room. Edel raised a finger, a doting grandmother about to offer her sage advice. Very familiar to me, especially. Very comforting.
“About those olives? Press them, juice them, squeeze out the oil. A single drop on the tongue may well be enough for a truly enlightening experience.”
I waved at her, lowering my dragon hand at last. “Sweet. Thanks, Edel!”
“You need to stop that,” Daniel said, his voice high-pitched and whiny as we stepped backward through the portal. But the last thing I actually heard was Edel cackling with delight. What a chaotic demon grandma. Sure, she was working with Dan D. Lyon, but in the end, Edel Wise was in it for her own amusement.
Max and I stumbled out of the back room, ran all the way back to the front door. My heart was still thumping against my chest.
“That was wild,” I breathed.
Max clenched his fists, nearly knocking his knuckles together, like a bodybuilder hitting a pose. “Woo! That was nuts. Oh, wow. Oh, God. That could’ve gone so much worse, but hey, we delivered what we were asked to, and we’re getting paid. That’s all that matters.”
I wagged a finger in his face, despite none of this actually being his fault. “Nobody betrays us, Max. Anyone who tries will rue the day that they crossed — ”
