Page 54 of Drawn in Blood
“Books filled with ancient spells and potions,” the professor almost whispered, “with ingredients and incantations that haven’t been seen or spoken by Vala in hundreds of thousands of years.” She walked around the greenhouse. Glowing pictures of runes and strange symbols floated around the students as Professor Flora flitted her wrist, so quiet you could hear a pin drop, the students hanging on her every word.
“Where did these books come from?” Ember asked quietly, Fen’s eyes widening as he very subtly shook his head.
“Now that is the mystery, isn’t it?” Professor flora replied with a smile, as birds called out above her in the aviary—like they knew a great secret. “Some say they were written by an old king on his deathbed to help preserve the way of life that our ancestors once held.” She made her way slowly back to the front of the room as the canary nuzzled against her hand. “Others say they were written by the gods themselves—magic that was too powerful for any one Vala, hidden away to protect us.”
“Protect us from what?” Oryn scoffed, as he crossed his arms over his chest.
“From ourselves,” Professor Flora said solemnly. She gently removed the canary from her shoulder, placing her on the gold perch beside her. The little bird fluffed her feathers and took a few seeds from the professor’s hands, chirping quietly. “Magiclike that, something as strong as these potions and spells in these mythical books, could be detrimental in the wrong hands. There are some things that are best hidden away.”
Ember felt her heart nearly stop beating as she swallowed dryly. She knew all too well what power like that did to people, even the idea of that power, and what it could destroy. She bit the edge of her lip as she felt Fen nudge her elbow and give her a questioning look.
Are you okay?
He didn’t say it, not out loud, but she could hear his words rattle around in her head for just a moment. She gave him a small nod and a smile as she took in a shaky breath.
“Now if that is settled,” Professor Flora continued, as she flipped her hand, making the glowing pictures still floating around the room vanish, “you may begin making the Breath of the Deep Elixir.”
“Shall I run and fetch the kelp?” Odette asked with a whimsical smile. “Perhaps I can convince the jellies to donate a tentacle or two.”
Ember laughed as she shook her head. “If anyone could do it, I have no doubt it would be you, Odette.”
Ember began chopping ingredients and grinding them to throw in the cauldron while Killian and Fen whispered next to each other like they were sharing a secret.
“Do you plan on helping today,” Ember asked, as she scribbled notes in her Field Guide, “or are you hellbent on giving me a terrible grade this term?”
“Lighten up, Starshine.” Killian grinned as he leaned on the edge of the long wooden table. “We were just discussing tryouts for tonight, or have you forgotten already?”
Ember felt her stomach lurch as she swallowed. “How could I,” she replied, as she began to chop more violently, “with thetwo of you reminding me multiple times a day for the last two weeks?”
She had received no less than two Helios every day from either Fen or Killian, reminding her of the date, time, and place of Rukr tryouts. Fen also made it a point to send her detailed exercises to do every day after school, and some days, he even tried to follow her back to her house to supervise. As much as she wanted to be annoyed by their insane behavior, she had to admit it was very sweet how invested they were in her success.
“But you have to admit,” Fen said, as he pulled a candy bar out of his pocket and began to unwrap it, “you aresignificantlymore prepared now than you would have been without us.”
Ember rolled her eyes and tried to hide her grin as she rummaged through the pile of ingredients on the table. “I suppose so,” she sighed. “Now can one of you make yourself useful and find me,” she squinted, as she read through the list of ingredients in her Field Guide, “one Merrow scale, given willingly,” she grimaced as she shook her head, “and three drops of salt water, harvested during the full moon?”
“On it,” Fen said with a salute, and then took off to rummage through cabinets at the front of the classroom.
Killian leaned leisurely against the table, tapping his finger on the mortar that sat between them.
“Can you hand me the Pickleweed and Samphire?” Ember asked, as she grabbed a bowl of salt and began to pour it on the gold scale. “It has to marinade in the Celtic sea salt for five minutes.”
Killian nodded as he reached across the table, quickly dropping both ingredients into the conch shell and mulling it together with the sea salt. Ember reached across him for another bowl and felt goosebumps run up and down her arms as their hands brushed. She quickly pulled away, heat rising up her neck and into her cheeks as she grabbed a paring knife.
“Let that sit for a few minutes while we chop the mollusk eggs,” she tried to say nonchalantly, but the way she stumbled over her words betrayed her.
“Youaregoing to be fine,” Killian assured her, as he took the knife out of her hand and began thinly slicing the mollusk eggs into even pieces. Ember sat entranced as his fingers moved effortlessly between slicing and tossing them into the bubbling cauldron, focusing on the veins running up his exposed forearm. She shook her head as she ran her fingers through her hair.
“What are you talking about?” she asked, as she checked over the ingredients in the conch.
“Tryouts,” he replied, tossing the last piece of mollusk egg into the cauldron. “You’re going to do fine. It’s not as treacherous as you think it’s going to be.” He grabbed the towel hanging on the edge of the table and wiped his hands clean.
Ember gave a small nod as she bit the edge of her lip. “I have a tendency to make things harder than they have to be,” she half laughed, as she dumped the contents of the conch into the cauldron. “I always seem to find a way to mess a good thing up.”
“Self-deprecation does not suit you.” He frowned. “Just do your best, that’s all anyone can ask for. Your best is good enough.”
“I come bearing gifts!” Fen sang, as he waltzed back up to the table, Odette trailing behind him with the kelp in one hand and a triumphant grin painted on her face.
“Finally,” Ember sighed, as she took the scale and water from him, quickly dumping both into the smoking cauldron. Odette diced the kelp, slowly and methodically, and then dropped it into the cauldron next, the final ingredient. The group took turns for the next fifteen minutes, carefully stirring before funneling some into a small bottle and taking it up to Professor Flora’s desk. One by one, the other groups dropped their bottles off, and everyonefell into a small hush. The professor grabbed a small potted plant off her desk and sat it on a table in the middle of the classroom.
