The Isadora Interviews (The Network Series #1.5)(5)

“Anyway,” Camille sang, “I just wanted to stop by and see if you got the letter from Isadora.”

Leda froze.

“What letter?”

“Telling us that she had to change the date. She’ll be here tomorrow.” Camille’s expression dropped into sudden concern. “Oh, wait. Is the potion going to be ready by then?”

Leda whirled around.

“What?” she screeched. “Isadora will be here tomorrow?”

Startled, Camille’s hazel eyes widened.

“Y-yes,” she said, pulling a small envelope from her pocket. “Here’s the letter.”

Leda nearly tore it in half trying to take the bit of parchment from the envelope. To her horror, it confirmed Camille’s announcement.

I will arrive tomorrow morning for the interviews. Please have Leda and Camille meet me at the apothecary.

“Camille!” Leda cried in dismay. “This is terrible! The potion needs at least two more days.”

“Can’t you speed it up at all?”

“No!” Her hands raked through her hair. “This is awful!”

Camille chewed her bottom lip. “What if we go ask Fitz? He’ll know what to do!”

Fitz was the eccentric, twiggy potionmaker that holed up in the apothecary. Leda stopped and stared at Camille. Fitz was an option. Not a good one, but an option.

“Would he help?” Leda asked.

Camille shrugged. “Maybe. Worth a try, right?”

Fitz wouldn’t be happy to see her, but Leda didn’t care.

“Yes,” she said, recovering her breath. The curse whirled through her mind. She had to stop and close her eyes against the relentless shuffle of images. Elderberries. An old woman. A cottage. Elderberries again.

Leda shook her head to clear her thoughts. No, no, no, she told herself. Not elderberry! Too dangerous.

“Let’s go,” she said with a grim tone. Camille squared her shoulders like a Guardian preparing for battle.

“Right. I’ll lead the way.”

???

“What do you want?” Fitz asked as Leda stepped into his office at the apothecary. A pair of glasses covered his large blue eyes, but only one of them held a lens, which magnified his pupil so that it filled the entire circle. When he blinked it looked like his eye disappeared and then reappeared again.

“I need some help,” Leda responded.

Fitz lifted a thin eyebrow. He was built tall and skinny, much like a glass vial, and with about as much personality.

“I don’t like helping people,” he said.

“I know.”

Fitz was known all around the village for his peculiar eyeglasses and bad moods. The only things anyone had ever seen him eat were raw apples and cups of coffee. As a result, he often seemed moody and jittery, but no one was ever sure if it was because he’d had too much that day, or not enough.

“Then why did you come?” he asked.

“Advice.”

He rolled his eyes and turned away but kept Leda within his line of sight. Taking it as permission, she continued.

“I’m making the Forgotten Potion.”

She knew he’d be skeptical, but his blank reaction wasn’t what she’d expected. He just stared at her, his great eye blinking up and down.

“And I have to finish it by tomorrow,” she concluded when he didn’t react. “The potion needs two more days. Can I increase the heat to cut down the brewing time?”

“No. You aren’t going to finish it,” he said. “You can’t shortcut a potion. Increasing the temperature will change the viscosity and ruin the brew.”

“There’s got to be a way around it!”

“There is. Pick a different potion.”

“It’s too late for that.”

“I can’t help you.” He turned and started walking towards the door. Leda hurled herself in front of him, blocking his path. In her desperation she was willing to submit one more option, a plan that surely testified to her distress.

“What if I add elderberry?” she asked.

He stopped.

“What?”

“Elderberry. What if I add it? It will speed up the process. I could increase the heat as well, making it finish by morning.”

His forehead furrowed in thought. “You want to add elderberry to a weak potion in order to speed up the brewing time?”

“Yes.”

“It won’t work,” he concluded, after a long silence. “Your potion would be too volatile to trust. It would explode.”

“What if I—”

“No.” He shot her a warning glare. “Forget it, Leda. You can’t do the Forgotten Potion.”

“But everything depends on this! I’m going to sell it to pay tuition to Miss Mabel’s School for Girls. If I don’t get this, I’ll be a nobody!”

He paused, staring into her desperate face with all the warmth of an arctic breeze.

“There’s nothing I can do to help you.”

Frustrated, Leda spun on her heel, stalked past Camille, strode through the forest, and out to the little shed. The potion bubbled on, releasing a citrusy scent. It was right on track and looking perfect. If only it could finish sooner!

She scrounged through her herb chest and retrieved the packet of elderberry from the bottom.