The Isadora Interviews (The Network Series #1.5)(6)

Dare I?

She had enough to do the job and then some. Leda hesitated, sifting out a sprinkling of the herb into her palm. The stakes were the highest they had ever been. But elderberry? Was she that desperate to escape her life? She gazed down at her tattered dress and holey shoes.

Yes. Yes, I am that desperate.

With an decisive breath, Leda dropped the elderberry into the pot. The top of the brew fizzled into a thousand bubbles, then settled, returning to the usual boil.

Leda took a step back.

Elderberry was a fickle herb to work with. From this point on, stirring the potion or touching the pot would only alter the reaction. Her heart slammed in her chest. It had a few hours to work overnight. Isadora would arrive in the morning for the interview. The potion had to be ready. The massive cauldron seemed to mock her.

This won’t work. Fitz is right.

No. Fitz was wrong. He must be wrong. Elderberry would speed up the process. It wouldn’t explode.

If it did, it would take her future with it.

???

Leda woke to the sound of giggling.

She shot out of bed, disoriented by the rays of light streaming through her window. Leda always woke up before the sun to start breakfast with Bronwyn. The sun meant morning, which meant that the interview with Isadora was upon her.

“Oh no,” she cried, shoving her hair out of her face. “I slept in. I slept in!”

Bronwyn stirred next to her beneath a layer of blankets. She let out a moan as Leda threw the covers off and vaulted out of bed.

“Bronwyn! Wake up! I slept in! Isadora is going to be in town any minute now!”

Leda stumbled into the dining room with her shoes in hand, pulling a dress over her head at the same time. Mama was wrangling the little children into their seats.

“Leda, what are you doing here?” Mama asked, looking up. “I thought you left hours ago.”

“Obviously not!” Leda yelled. “Why didn’t you wake me?”

She pushed past the kids, snatching her shoulder bag from the hook in the wall. Her youngest brother gave a wail when she ignored his outstretched arms and drooling lower lip.

“What can I do?” Mama cried after her, but Leda was already gone, the door slamming behind her.

???

Leda’s heart fell into her stomach with a heavy lurch as she approached the sleepy town of Hansham. A few buildings were awake, small plumes of smoke spiraling up from the brick chimneys. Letum Wood’s expansive canopy soaked up much of the light, filtering the rest through the many leaves to fall in solitary beams. The sight of a small crowd of witches at the apothecary sent a whirl of pictures through her mind.

“No,” she muttered, bracing her head with one hand. “Not now! Infernal curse.”

The queue of witches murmured and jostled each other. Having two girls this close to getting into a Network school meant the whole town had to stick their nose in it. Leda muttered at them under her breath. She hated gossip.

“Hey,” she growled, shouldering her way to the front. “Let me through!”

An old woman with a curved back and low shoulders stood next to Mr Hymas, the apothecary. Camille rushed to Leda’s side, her dishwater blonde curls bouncing on her neck.

“Where have you been?” she cried. “We’ve been waiting for almost ten minutes.”

“I accidentally slept in. What’s happening? Am I too late? What about the interview?”

“Isadora is just discussing a few things with Mr. Hymas.” Camille looked over her shoulder to the little shed behind the apothecary and then back to Leda. “Is your potion ready?” she whispered.

Leda’s mouth was so dry from fear that she worried sand would spill from the corners. There was no telling. Her plan had been to wake up early and check on it, but now she’d have to trust fate.

“I hope so,” she said with a trembling voice.

Isadora’s eyes found Leda, sending a cold wash of fear down her skin.

“Merry meet, Leda,” she called.

“Merry meet, Miss Isadora,” Leda said, ducking her head before looking back up. Were Isadora’s eyes different colors? Leda blinked several times. No, surely they couldn’t be. Leda had never met another person with eyes like her own.

“Are you ready?” Isadora asked.

What little composure Leda had left failed. Her curse accelerated the spinning images, and she could barely get enough control to think. She managed a terse nod.

“I understand you’ve made a very difficult potion,” Isadora said as Leda joined her. “Would you mind if I looked at it?”

“No, I wouldn’t mind.”

“I’ll follow you.”

Isadora motioned for her to start. Mr. Hymas managed to control the crowd, keeping them at the apothecary with an offer of free spiced tea. His voice rang out through the trees, following Leda and Isadora until it faded behind them.

Despite her gnarly joints and hunched appearance, Isadora moved with surprising speed. Leda didn’t speak. Her nerves and emotions were too strong to allow any forethought. Instead, all she saw were blurry, indistinguishable flashes of light and darkness. Her head began to pound. When they arrived, Leda hesitated outside of the hut.

“Is there a problem?” Isadora asked.

Yes. No. I don’t know.

“No.” Leda heard her voice respond before her brain was aware. “This is where I prepared my potion.”