“Go on. Show him.”
I hesitate, unsure about giving up my secrets to this strange, sad dryad. Not to mention I’m not completely sure I want to hear what he might have to tell me. But Leon puts his hand at the small of my back, and it feels like an anchor, connecting me to solid ground.
I take the vial from my pocket and lay it on the counter.
“I need to know everything you can tell me about this potion.”
The dryad squints at it before picking up the vial and holding it up to a candle to examine it.
“Interesting,” he says, eyes never leaving the potion. “Is this all you have?”
“Yes. Is there enough for you to analyze it?”
“There should be, but I’ll need a few minutes.”
I nod, relieved, as he shuffles into a back room and returns with a small stone basin. We watch in silence as he sprinkles ingredients from various bags and jars into the basin—leaves and powders and a piece of bark. Then he unstops the vial. I hold my breath as he slowly tilts it over the basin, allowing a single drop to fall onto the concoction he’s created. He returns the cork, then places his hands over the basin and prays.
It’s old Agathyrian, so I can only catch a few words here and there. There’s lots of reference to the earth, but that’s just dryads for you. As he speaks, I feel the fizz of magic emanating from the basin.
“Aduar gain esquan,” he finishes his prayer, then plunges his hands into the bowl. After a moment he lifts his eyes, fixing them on me.
“This is not an ordinary potion you’ve brought me,” he croaks.
“What makes you say that?” I ask. The knot in my stomach tightens.
“It must have been created by a very gifted healer, because it does a very difficult thing,” he says, lifting his hands out of the basin and brushing them off. “It suppresses a person’s magical power without killing them. The magic of a person who takes this will become dormant, but otherwise they will mostly remain healthy.”
I knew it was coming, but it still feels like I’ve been hit by a charging bull. I close my eyes, mortified by the tears suddenly springing to them. I haven’t cried since I was a child, but I can’t stop myself now. I hadn’t even realized before this moment how much I was hoping to hear that there was more to the potion. That it treated some mystery ailment, and the magic suppression was just a side effect. But no. This is the truth. The medicine I forced myself to swallow down every day—the one that Etusca assured me I needed to stay alive—was created solely to take my power away.
All this time, I thought it wasmyfault I was so weak and powerless. Never for a moment did I consider it was being donetome by the people I was supposed to trust.
I sense Leon behind me, his warm breath on my neck.
“Ana…” he says.
“What else?” I open my eyes, rubbing away any moisture and addressing the dryad. “What else can you tell me about it?”
The dryad taps his fingers on the counter thoughtfully.
“Because the potion is very potent, it’s possible there were side effects,” he says. I think about how I’ve always been a bit slow on my feet and how my joints have always been a little achy, but the dryad’s tone suggests something more significant than that.
“What kind of side effects?”
The dryad looks cautious. “Would I be right in thinking this potion has been used on someone for a long time?”
“Yes,” I say. “It was used on me for years.”
The dryad makes a noise of concern.
“Viatic magic is meant to bring the body into balance. Magic that pushes the body too far out of nature’s alignment will usually end up reversing on itself—like a pendulum swinging back in the other direction. There are spells that will keep you awake for so long you may slip into a coma. Some healers sell viatic treatments that bring great happiness to the user,” the dryad’s eyes darken with disapproval. “But if a patient takes too much, they will sink into a melancholy they can’t escape.”
“What does that mean for me?” I ask.
“May I examine you?” the dryad asks.
My eyes go to Leon. If he examines me, will he be able to tell I’m a solari? Do I trust him with that?
“If you do, healer, promise that what you discover won’t leave this room.” Leon glances at Hyllus, who shifts his huge frame in front of the door. “Or you’ll find thatyoudon’t leave it either.”
