Page 43 of A Tower of Half-Truths
She flitted about the shop, humming to herself as she gathered jars from the shelves and brought them to the counter. She carefully weighed out ingredients and poured them into smaller jars and pouches. She stood on a stool to gather some bundles of herbs, then bound them in twine. Finally, she headed toward the pile of broken equipment and vanished behind it. There was the creak of what was likely a trapdoor opening and closing.
Mavery turned to Alain, arms crossed and lips pursed.
“What is it?” he asked.
“Your apothecary reallycansource anything.”
“Just as I told you. And?”
“And you don’t find that suspicious? Convenient, even?”
He peered at her with a slight tilt to his head. “Whatever you’re insinuating, I genuinely haven’t a clue.”
Mavery sighed. “Did you know she’s a—”
The trapdoor opened again.
“We’ll talk about it later,” she muttered as Enid reappeared, holding a black pouch that could only contain the powdered kutauss claws.
At the counter, Enid totaled up everything in her ledger; it came out to nearly five hundred potins. Alain counted out notes with the nonchalance of someone who regularly spent six weeks’ worth of his assistant’s wages in one fell swoop. Meanwhile, Mavery pondered what other illicit merchandise was stored in the room below. Though she knew better than to steal from a Dragon, the Cracked Pestle’s lack of security would make it so simple. Why wasn’t there at least a guard keeping watch?
“Gods above! In all this excitement, I completely forgot,” Enid said. She looked up and bellowed,“Peaches!”
The ceiling rattled as thunder erupted above their heads. It rolled across the upper floor and down the staircase along theback wall. Mavery recoiled, nearly knocking over a barrel of serum, when a hellhound appeared at the bottom of the stairs.
The hound was a sleek black and umber blur as it sprinted to the cauldron. Then, with a din of panting and squelching that made Mavery’s stomach lurch, it gobbled up its breakfast within seconds. Thick strands of drool oozed from the beast’s maw. It raised its head, and its glowing red eyes met her stare.
“Oh, gods damn it,” she muttered.
The hellhound galloped around the counter and skidded to a halt, nearly colliding into her. With a gasp, she squeezed her eyes shut and clenched her fists.
“Not a dog lover, I take it,” Enid said with a touch of amusement in her voice.
Dogs were fine, but this creature was no dog. Its sniffing sounded more like a rutting boar than anything dog-like. And that was to make no mention of itsfangs… Only weeks ago, Mavery had seen what they could do to human flesh. Instead of telling Enid that, all she could manage was a disgusted groan as the hellhound’s snout prodded her in a rather inappropriate place.
“Peaches is harmless, so long as you don’t try to nick anything.”
Though Mavery had serious doubts about that, the hellhound backed off after determining she posed no threat to Enid—or Enid’s wares. She opened her eyes with a sigh of relief, only to discover that it had moved on to Alain…who waspettingthe godsdamned thing.
“You remember me, don’t you, Peaches?” Alain said. The hound’s barbed tail whipped about as its slobbery tongue lolled. “Of course you do, because you’re such a good boy!”
“Good thing you’re my only customers at the moment,” Enid said. She rolled her eyes, though she did so with a faint smile. “Can’t have word getting out that my guard dog’s got a soft side. Peaches,come!”
The hellhound snapped to attention, then trotted over and sat on its haunches while Enid packed up Alain’s order. She escorted Alain and Mavery to the door, each of them carrying a large satchel over one shoulder.
“Don’t be a stranger,” Enid said with the cheerfulness ofsomeone who was now a tad wealthier than she’d been earlier that morning. “That goes for you, too, Reynard. Kindred spirits are always welcome here.”
She winked at Mavery again before closing the door.
“What did she mean by that?” Alain asked.
Mavery didn’t answer him. Her eyes scanned the shop’s exterior until she spotted an etching below the left windowsill: an X, followed by an O with a vertically stacked B and D in its center. As she’d suspected, the Cracked Pestle was a Dragon-operated establishment.
Not wanting to loiter here any longer, she readjusted her satchel and hurried down the street.
“Wait!” Alain called.
Bottles clinked as he jogged to catch up. Once the Cracked Pestle was out of sight, Mavery stopped and leaned against the wall of another shop.
