Page 42 of A Tower of Half-Truths
“Oh, I’m well aware, but the apothecary I use is nothing short of a miracle worker. I’ve yet to request an ingredient Enid can’t source.”
Mavery had an uneasy feeling about this, but she had no choice but to play along.
“I suppose you want me to go shopping for you,” she said.
“Yes, but I’ll come with you this first time, get you and Enid properly introduced. Besides, I could use some fresh air.”
“I think you could use somesleep.”
Maybe she could convince him to lie down on the sofa before heading out, which would buy her a little time to check under the bed. Maybe even the storage room, if she could manage it.
“My eagerness to start this project means I couldn’t sleep right now even if I tried. Don’t worry about me, I’ll get some rest later. If we leave now, we should arrive as soon as the shop opens.” Hestood up. Mavery cleared her throat, eyeing his wrinkled robe. He looked down. “Er, but perhaps I should change first.”
The Cracked Pestle was a little hole-in-the-wall tucked down an unassuming side street in the Market District. The walls were lined from floor to ceiling with bottles of every size and color. Bundles of dried herbs hung from the rafters, giving the air a medicinal scent. To get to the front counter, they had to weave around stacks of barrels filled with minerals waiting to be scooped and weighed, or solvents and serums waiting to be tapped and bottled.
One corner of the shop was devoted to broken alchemy equipment—a heap of cracked glass and tarnished metal that had been pushed aside and forgotten. It was little wonder. Everything in this place exuded chaos, much like Alain’s apartment had weeks ago.
Behind the counter was a woman with russet skin and long graying dreadlocks. She stood over the hearth, stirring something in a small cauldron. She wore a red-orange dress with ragged hemlines and flared sleeves. It seemed a risky outfit for working over an open flame. No wonder Alain liked this woman; perhaps they’d bonded over their shared disregard for fire safety.
Alain rang the bell at the counter.
“Be with you in a minute!” the woman called over her shoulder. She gave her concoction another stir, then donned a pair of thick gloves. With a grunt, she heaved the cauldron off the fire and onto the flagstones.
“Working on a tincture, Enid?”
“No, this is just breakfast for Peaches.” She paused. “Hold on a tick, I know that voice.” She whipped around so quickly, the hem of her dress fanned the flames. “Mr. Tesseraunt! Well, I’ll be godsdamned. It’s been a hound’s age!”
She tossed off her gloves as she rushed around the counter, then pulled Alain into a hug that was no less enthusiastic than the one Declan had given him yesterday. But Alain didn’t seem to mind this one. He returned it with a friendly pat on the shoulder.
“I can’t tell you how good it is to see my favorite customer again,” Enid said as she released Alain.
He blushed. “Oh, you only say that because of my order from three years ago.”
“One thousand, four hundred, seventy-six potins—and twenty-eight coppers. A record sale that has yet to be beaten. Until then, you’ll be my favorite!”
She turned to Mavery and gave her an appraising look that settled somewhere in the vicinity of Mavery’s waist. Enid leaned closer—and so did the generous swell of her bosom. Heat trickled up Mavery’s neck. She forced her gaze upward, where she caught a glint of something dangling from Enid’s ear: a brass pendant depicting a dragon.
That explained how Alain’s apothecary was able to sourceanything.Did he know his money was helping fund private armies, smuggling operations, backroom deals, and gods knew what else the Brass Dragons had their fingers in these days?
For a Dragon, Enid played fast and loose with security. She had no rookie guild members on guard duty. There wasn’t even a single ward cast over the storefront. Mavery subtly glanced around the shop, searching for anyone who might be lurking in the corners, shrouding themselves in shadow, but she could Sense nothing. She caught the faintest hint of ash, but that was likely from the open fire—or any number of ingredients lying around. From what she could tell, the three of them were alone.
“Who’s your friend?” Enid asked. Though she addressed Alain, her gaze remained fixed on Mavery.
“This is Mavery, my new assistant.”
“Well, well! If she wasmyassistant, I doubt I’d ever get any work done.” Enid threw Mavery a wink. “Does this Mavery have a family name?”
“Reynard,” Mavery said with a knowing smirk.
“Exactly my type, too,” Enid sighed, then returned her attention to the man who was about to continue lining her pockets. “Well, I suppose you’re here for more than playing catch-up. My ledger will be all the happier for it. What can I do you for?”
Alain handed her the list. She mouthed the words and quirkedan eyebrow as she read over it.
“You’re in luck!” she said. “I just so happen to have everything in stock. I had another buyer for that powder you’re looking for, but he didn’t pay up. Only a single ounce, though.”
“Anything you have, I’ll take it.”
“All right, then. Hold tight.”
