About two weeks after arriving in the Pleasure Palace, my sleeping potion runs out, and I find Baldar’s shop by the lion fountain. It's a quaint little place, tucked away between a book store and a pottery shop. Green vines cover the white walls, and blue lanterns flicker inside. When I enter, Yami flying around me, a bell signals my arrival, and I’m assaulted by all manner of aromas, some pleasant and others less so.
Baldar stands on a ladder, placing a decorative dagger on a high shelf, when he notices me. "Ah, so good to see you again, my dear." The short Fae descends the ladder and greets me with a formal bow. "Anything I can help you with?"
"The sleeping potion. I’d like to buy more."
He nods, his face red and happy. "Ah, yes of course. I’ll have to brew a new batch, but it’ll only take a moment." He walks behind the counter, where lay all sorts of pestles and cauldrons. Then he grabs different herbs from various jars and begins to grind them into powder.
I study his shop as he works, admiring the different fossils that adorn his walls, and the ceremonial weapons on his shelves. Pots and already-made potions lay scattered on tables, labeled with their names and uses. I see more love potions than any other and roll my eyes.
The doorbell rings, and I turn to see three men enter.
The three men who hanged Lars on the tree.
My hands tighten into fists, and I clench my jaw, trying to resist attacking them then and there. The big one, Roge, grabs a potion off a desk and sniff at the contents. "Bloody hell!" he says, making a disgusted face. He drops the vial and it shatters, spilling blue liquid on the floor. His friends laugh.
"How dare you!" I yell.
Roge turns, noticing me for the first time. He grins. "Oh, a fiery one. I like them fiery. You looking for any work, Shade?"
Shade. He refers to my illusion. "You will apologize to the shop keeper this instance and pay for that potion."
"Or…" Roge pretends to be dumbfounded. "We going to be in trouble? Oh, no…" His friends giggle at his antics.
That’s it. I’ve had enough.
I draw my sword, Spero. Half white and half black.
Yami screeches on my shoulder, though I know they can’t see or hear him.
The vampires laugh at my display.
They don’t laugh for long.
The room grows dark around us. The wind picks up. The earth begins to shake. Vials and pots shake, some crashing to the floor. A chill picks up in the air. And something stirs within me. Something dark.
"My lady!"
I barely hear the words.
"My lady!"
A little louder.
"My lady!" Baldar grabs my arm, and whatever possessed me begins to pass. The lights return and the wind dies down. The cold recedes and the trembling stops. I look around at the destruction I have caused, broken potions and cracks in the stone floor.
The vampires look too, and then they run.
I bury my face in my hands. Tears well in my eyes. "I’m so sorry. I don’t know what happened."
"It’s alright, my dear. It’s alright." He takes my hands into his, smiling fondly. "Those vagrants were about to destroy my entire shop, maybe even assault me. You stopped them."
I motion all around me. "And nearly ruined your entire shop."
"But you didn’t. You stopped yourself."
I take a deep breath, processing his words. "You’re right. Thank you."
Yami licks my face, trying to cheer me as well. It works, and I giggle.
Baldar places a vial in my hands. "To help you sleep, my dear." I reach into the pouch on my belt, searching for coins, but he stops me. "No need. Your company is payment enough."
I smile and thank him, then offer to help clean up. "No, but thank you. I have spells to aid in such things. Now, I believe you best be off. I think Varis expects you at this hour."
I glance outside at the sun. It’s later than I thought, and the Druid won’t be happy, indeed.
I thank Baldar and head for the door, and when I see he isn’t looking, I drop a few coins on his desk and depart.
On my way back to the palace, I notice a forge where blacksmiths toil over roaring fires, forging steel and iron. A part of me wants to join them, but then memories of Daison return, and I keep walking, away from the forge and the flame.
***
When I find Varis in the library, he is sitting cross-legged on the carpet, meditating with Pete. I don’t disrupt their trance, grateful for the delay before my training. Though I have learned some interesting and even useful things, none of my spells will aid me in the fight against Levi. I itch to do more, be more, to feel the thrill I felt watching Callisia battle the Windshark, and use that passion in combat.
Varis always preaches calmness and grace, but how can I fight and be calm? How can I fight without adrenaline pumping through my veins, fueling me like it fueled me when I fought Oren?
I slide into a chair, relaxing, when Es bursts in, shouting. "Pete, Ari. We’ve got things to talk about."
Varis groans, his concentration clearly broken. "Don’t you have any respect for the sacred art of—"
"Sitting on your ass and seeing who falls asleep first? Not right now," says Es, flicking her blond hair. She wears a black leather vest meant for battle, and a thick broadsword hangs at her side, making her seem even tougher than I remember her being—not that she’s ever had trouble taking care of herself.
Pete stands and stretches, his white fur robes nearly touching the ground. They seem likely borrowed from Varis and fit him well. Pete looks quite the Fae with his red hair. All he’s missing are the ears.