CHAPTER ONE
LOU
“Now drop the amethyst in slowly, so it doesn’t hit the bottom of the pot too hard.” Malik’s instructions sound simple, but I know from attempting this potion three times this week, it’s not that easy.
Relaxing my jaw so nervous energy doesn’t filter through the quartz, I stir as I reach down with the amethyst in my fingers. Malik’s steady, huge presence should be a comfort as he hovers by my side, but instead, I worry I’ll fuck up the potion a fourth time in a row.
Three times was not a charm, as it turns out.
Come on, Lou, get it together.
I release the crystal into the pot, continuing to stir the blue mixture carefully as I listen for it to land on the bottom. Instead, it hits with a thunk, my heart sinking just as fast. The edges of the cast iron pot begin to vibrate as the mixture simmers wildly, purple sparks shooting up out of the liquid. One hits me in the face, singeing my left eyebrow as I sigh and step back.
Malik slings a pale muscular arm over my chest, curling his fingers into my skin. His left wing, covered in pale purple feathers, curls around me, shielding me from the sparking pot.
I sigh and cross my arms, infuriated by my fourth failed attempt at finishing his signature sleeping potion.
Glancing up at my new friend and boss, I sigh again. “It shouldn’t be this hard, Malik. At this point, I’m costing you more money than it’s worth for you to have an assistant.”
The big pegasus tsks, pale pink lips curling into a smirk as he looks down at me. “When Richard suggested you become my assistant, I knew it would take time to impart my knowledge to you, Lou. But I also knew it was a task worth doing. You’ll get it. It took me decades to get to where I am.”
I snort. “It helps that you’re a warlock, I’m sure.”
“Of course.” He dips his head in agreement. “And it helps that I put in thousands of hours of practice at the academy when I was younger. And then spent decades honing my skills to get to this point. A sleeping potion sounds simple enough, but making a good one is like creating any work of art, my friend.” His fingers leave my side, his wide wing retracting backward against the white horse half of his body.
“You’ll get it, Lou, and we will practice until you do.” He winks as he nudges me with his elbow. “In the meantime, you get to clean up the mess you made, mineirah.”
Mineirah. The pegasi word translates loosely to “deep friend,” almost like the pixie concept of a soulfriend. I know what Malik means. From the moment Richard, the pack alpha of the shifters, introduced us, I liked Malik. More than that, I respected him.
Malik gets me.
Even now, he stares, luminescent blue eyes sparkling. Something about the way Malik looks at me makes me feel like he’s looking right into my soul. I’m as transparent as a piece of glass in a window frame, and Malik’s got both hands over his brows, peering inside.
His assessing gaze moves back to the pot. “Give it a few minutes to cool, then dump it out back.”
With the other failures, he means. There’s a nice gooey pile of unusable sludge behind Malik’s potions shop, Alkemi.
When I acknowledge his directive, he clip-clops toward the front of the shop and begins to unpack a box of crystals that arrived this morning from another monster haven.
Blowing out a frustrated breath, I uncross my arms and lean against a table covered with crystals and gems of all sorts. Most are familiar to me from my time working in a potions shop back home in upstate New York, but many are specific to the monster world.
I glance at a transparent black crystal at the center of the table. It’s something called pegasite, a crystal that only comes from a haven on the far side of the world where most pegasi originate from. Pegasite grows in the depths of a volcano there. Every century or two, the volcano erupts and spews the beautiful onyx crystal out onto black sand beaches. A small community grew at the edges of the volcano, and when the beach is full of crystals, they harvest them and send them to potion shops all throughout the monster haven system.
My gaze travels from the pegasite to a sprinkling of amethyst and aragonite. The beautiful varied colors never fail to amaze me. It’s easy to get lost in those sparkling, angular depths. I like to imagine that every crystal is its own unique, magical world. One day, if I learn enough about them, maybe a magical portal will open up and pull me inside. It’ll be likeJourney to the Center of the Earth, except my real life.
Then I consider how living in a hidden monster town is pretty much the same thing. The tiny haven of Ever is protected by magical wards, ensconced in a gorgeous valley in Massachusetts. No human could ever find it unless specifically called here by the town’s magical homing beacon map.
That’s how I got here, thanks to my nieces and the town’s previous Keeper, the mayor of sorts, if monsters have a mayor.
I twirl my strawberry blonde braid around my finger as I consider my dramatic arrival. It turns out all monsters aren’t nice, and I got firsthand knowledge of that on my way here. Thinking back to the bites I sustained trying to get into Ever, I scratch at the back of one arm, grimacing at how tender yet itchy the skin still is.
As soon as my potion pot is cool to the touch, I unhook it from its spot over the fire and walk-rush to the back door, trying not to let it slosh up over the pot’s thick cast iron sides.
At the back door, I shoulder my way through and set the pot down on a patch of moss. It’s beautiful behind the long row of shops Alkemi is part of. Like a magical monster strip mall, backed by gorgeous, dense forest. Trees as wide as cars soar above my head, blotting out the sky, ferns growing thick and lush at their bases.
I grimace as I glance down at an oily, sticky-looking puddle outside the back door. Sighing, I push the potion pot over, frowning as the ruined potion joins its predecessors, forming an even deeper pool.
Movement at the building’s edge draws my eye. A pointy red hat appears, followed by the tiny face of its owner.
