Page 5 of Elixir of Strife
A couple of worktables with bottles bubbling merrily away, for example, possibly an alchemical setup to help brew special fertilizers or soil treatments for Daniel’s plants. A little further in — boy, these back rooms went deep — we finally reached an area that seemed to be more botanical garden than botanical shop. Seriously, practically a jungle.
“Edel?” Daniel called out. “Edel, are you in there? Our guests are here.”
Someone — nearly something, in fact — came shambling out from among the plants. A figure dressed in coarse brown robes, long, white hair falling down past the shoulders. It was an old woman, sinister smile as crooked as the jagged ridges of her long fingernails.
Bottles of brightly colored liquid dangled from the rope that served as her belt, among sprigs of dried herbs and bunches of dead flowers. The old woman chuckled as she shuffled closer, as if amused by some private joke. I didn’t want to stereotype, but the word “witch” blinked on the inside of my head in flashing neon letters.
“So nice to meet you,” Leon said, extending his hand, never missing a beat. He was right about before. Boundlessly charming, to a fault.
The woman cackled in that witchy way of hers, taking Leon’s hand in both of her crimson-tipped talons. Not an exaggeration, either. They were blood red, from the tips of the nails all the way up to her elbows.
I tried not to wince when I saw her teeth, similarly tipped in crimson. But the redness wasn’t wet. It didn’t seem like fresh blood, the ends of her teeth only resembling it in color.
“Everyone,” Daniel said, “I’d like you to meet my business partner, Edel. She specializes in the creation of truly unique flora. Very impressive work. She’s quite the hag.”
This time I actually flinched. I knew that I was in sort of the right territory when I thought of the woman as a witch, but calling the lady a hag wasn’t entirely appropriate, was it?
“A hagriculturist,” Daniel continued, laughing nervously, perhaps detecting the discomfort in our silence.
“Oh, a demon gardener!” Vera swept in, gathering Edel’s hands into hers. “Oh, I’ve only heard rumors about your profession. And what an eclectic and noble one it is.”
The Jade Spider’s eyes sparkled as she took it all in. I thought I saw the gleam of something eldritch and green in her pupils, almost as if she was feeding off the information, growing stronger with every new secret she consumed. No wonder she wanted to meet the client in person. Rumors and gossip really did seem to give Vera life. Literally.
Edel the hagriculturist flapped her hands and cackled again, flattered by all the attention. “I used to work in one of the prime hells. But I said to myself — I said to myself, ‘Edel Wise, you’re not getting any younger.’ Decided to seek out greener pastures up here on the surface. Wasn’t long before I met young Daniel D. Lyon here. Couldn’t have asked for a better partner.”
And then it all clicked together. The Lyons were one of the larger arcane families, though not nearly as notorious as the others. The clan mostly stuck to research in the area of rare and exotic herbs and magical plant life, none of the thuggery that the Brillantes were known for.
Of course, that didn’t mean that the Lyons didn’t have skeletons in their closets, or more appropriately, corpses under their lawns. The great families didn’t rise to prominence solely on foundations of good and honest work. It also explained Daniel’s slightly shifty nature. Almost relatable, really, living under the shadows of the names of our dynasties, even though we were just trying to do our own thing.
Those insecurities never went away. I’d drive myself crazy figuring out whether my plant business was actually thriving, pun intended, because of my entrepreneurial acumen, and not just because the brand was attached to my locally famous family reputation.
Also — Edel Wise and Dan D. Lyon? A match made in heaven. Or hell, as it were. She might have been a demon, but despite the little cackles and waggles of her eyebrows, I couldn’t truly sense anything malicious about Edel. She was a jovial demonic witch, as far as I could tell, just happy to be there and participate.
“She’s taught me quite a few interesting new things,” Daniel said, “but now we’re taking our craft to the next level. Succulence is nice and all, but what it mainly offers us is a private space to work on projects away from the prying eyes of — well, of others who might have interests in arcane gardening. Like my family, for example.”
Edel stepped to one side, gesturing at a plant that stood about shoulder height, little black oblongs hanging from its branches. “And here it is, our budding masterpiece. The evil olive.”
Three pairs of eyebrows went up, me, Leon, and Vera all exchanging dubious glances. Maybe I was being too hasty when I described Edel Wise as mostly happy and inoffensive.
But Daniel slipped smoothly into the conversation, chuckling anxiously. “It’s only a name. Technically, it isn’t evil. More of the fact that it could very well be the modern forbidden fruit, something that, when consumed, could reveal hidden stores of knowledge. Cosmic truths.”
“A supplement for secrets.” Vera gasped. “Brain food of the highest order.”
This stuff was custom-made for her. I could tell from looking alone that she was beyond glad she’d bothered to roll out of bed today.
Edel grunted. “You’re leaving out the best part. The name reads the same both ways. Evil olive.”
“You’re absolutely right, and I apologize.” Daniel reached for the olive tree, cradling its fruit gently in his hand. “It’s a palindrome. An evil olive remains an evil olive, inspected from either end. Part of the philosophy of it all, the clarity that consuming it can provide, theoretically unlocking untold intelligence.”
“Hold up.” Leon pressed the tips of his fingers against his temples. “This is breaking my brain a little bit.”
Daniel D. Lyon sighed. “Yes. Sadly, that’s exactly what happened when we fed one to our last intern.”
3
LEON
The key to my apartment was warm in my hand from being pressed there for a good portion of the car ride home. I was squeezing it like a touchstone throughout the drive, something physical, hard, and concrete to anchor me to reality, considering the bizarre questions the concept of this witchy forbidden fruit was raising.
