Page 44 of A Tower of Half-Truths
“If only we’d remembered to bring one of your enchanted bags.”
“Transmutated,” Alain panted. “Can’t…enchant…inanimate objects. Common misconception. Now, will you please explain what has gotten into you?”
She looked up and down the street. Though there was hardly another person around, she still asked in a low voice, “Did you know your apothecary is a Brass Dragon?”
Alain blinked at her, mouth agape. “Enid, a Brass…? What? How did you—?”
“She was wearing their emblem.”
“You’re certain about that?”
Mavery nodded. “I’d recognize it anywhere. Not to mention, you’ll only find kutauss claws on the black market.”
Alain collapsed against the wall, looking more exhausted than ever. “I suppose it was always odd how she’s never accepted bank cheques—not to mention the hellhound—but gods, I never would have guessed. And I’ve been patronizing her shop for years!” He narrowed his eyes at Mavery. “How doyouknow so much about this sort of thing?”
She winced. By even mentioning the Dragons, she’d alreadyrevealed too much. Being a university dropout was one thing. Being a former—albeit low-ranking—member of Osperland’s largest and most notorious criminal organization was a far worse transgression.
Alain wouldn’t be able to trust her. She needed him to continue trusting her until she could fully case Kazamin’s office. Not to mention, she still needed to investigate his storage room and the box beneath his bed. But saying nothing was just as likely to raise his suspicions.
“I had some run-ins with the Dragons in my younger, dumber days.”
“Did those overlap with your wardbreaking days?”
“Something like that.”
“I suppose that’s all you’re going to say on the matter.”
She shrugged. “There’s not much elsetosay.”
Alain observed her for a moment. She once again adjusted her satchel, which felt as though it had tripled in weight, as she avoided meeting his eye.
“All right, then. Let’s track down a carriage,” he said. “And quickly. These bottles are heavier than they looked.”
Fourteen
Mavery removed the final bottle from her satchel and handed it to Alain. He stored it inside the larder that now contained more alchemy ingredients than actual food. The kitchen itself, now more than ever, looked like a laboratory. The dining table was covered in bundles of dried persilweed, fallowroot, and feygrass, all waiting to be ground up and brewed.
“How are you going to eatwith all this in the way?” she asked. “Or, more importantly, make tea?”
“I’ll manage,” he said with a drawn-out yawn.
She placed her hands on her hips. “That does it. As your assistant, I demand you get some sleep.”
He laughed. “That’s not how this works.”
“Then Iinsistyou get some sleep.”
Her words weren’t motivated solely by her desire to snoop around his apartment again. She was genuinely concerned about him. The trip back had drained every last bit of his stamina. He swayed on the spot, barely keeping his eyes open.
“As I told you before, I won’t be able to sleep until I start this project.”
“Fine.”
She plucked a sprig of fallowroot and dropped its violet-hued petals into a mortar. She handed it to him, then the pestle.
“Grind that,” she said.
With a shrug, he humored her. But he gave the pestle only two rotations around the bowl before she snatched the tools from his hands and set them back on the table.
