“I wouldn’t tell you if I knew.” He nudges me with an elbow, and I glare in return.
“All right, well, what’s mine, then?” I cross my arms.
He walks up to the fourth door from the left. “Laithe is already inside; don’t let him scare you. Ready?”
“Of course I’m ready, dummy. Just open it.”
He smirks and then swings the door open, and smoke billows out into the hall.
I suck in a breath. The smoke dissipates quickly, revealing a massive room with wooded rafters crisscrossing below a cathedral ceiling. There’s an iron chandelier holding at least a hundred candles with real flickering flames. The walls are all tan brick covered in shelves of jars filled with so many different liquids and solids I can’t even keep track. And in the middle, six rows of counters with three cauldrons on each.
It’s bright but cozy and absolutely beautiful.
“He was concerned it wouldn’t be big enough.” Thompson snorts.
“You don’t think that’s a valid concern?” Laithe asks. I blink, noticing them for the first time in a set of leather armchairs beside a flickering fireplace on the far left of the massive room. It’s so cold my breath comes out puffy.
“I didn’t say that.”
My mind spins. It’s my own personal potions workshop. My lips curl into a smile of awe, even as tears prick my eyes.
I stare up at the ceiling and the elaborate, exposed supports. The vintage-looking chandelier decorated in black metals and brass accents.
“Jarron’s gonna be pissed he missed this,” Thompson murmurs, watching me.
“It’s incredible,” I breathe. “I don’t even know what to say.”
“If you want a distraction from all the feels,” Thompson says more confidently, leaning against one of the counters, “you can take a look at my shabby brewing attempts.” He nods to the three cauldrons smoking behind him.
I tilt my head. “What did you do?”
“They’re yours from Under Hall. I tried to keep them alive, but I’m not nearly as good as you. The stunning spell should be fine; I’m fairly proficient in those. Although, yours was a little different than what we use in our pack. The nullifier might be okay. The death potion, I didn’t even keep. It was so far off by the time I got caught up on what it needed that there was no salvaging it.”
I look over the three potions, starting with the nullifier. It’s a bit thick, and the color is off a little. I think I can adjust it enough for it to be usable, though. “I’ll have to test it out on someone,” I say and then grin. “Who wants to volunteer?”
“I’m sure Jarron will when he comes around,” Laithe purrs.
I spin to face them. “Is he coming soon?”
“He will try. Our days are faster in Oriziah, and there’s no easy pattern to follow, timing-wise. He might be free at three a.m. your time and not again for two weeks. He tried to make it this week, but it didn’t work out. He does want to come around soon.”
“Things are still—”
“Things haven’t changed much on the war front. He’s afraid if he leaves for long, though, it will prompt the rebels to make a move.”
I hold back a sigh. No one enjoys being part of a war. I should be thankful nothing terrible has happened yet.
“How is it so cold here, but there’s a fire over there?” I blurt out, again struck by the strange dynamic.
“Oh! That’s the coolest part,” Thompson says. “Come on, check it out.” He grabs my arm and pulls me across the room. Once we pass the third row of cauldrons, the air suddenly shifts. Warmth seeps into my bones.
“What?” I say stupidly. I look up and around. There’s no physical evidence of the change.
“There’s a magical barrier,” Laithe says. “It keeps this side a comfortable temperature.”
“Actually,” Thompson says, putting a finger in the air to grab attention, “they were going to have it only be the seating area of the room that’s warm and the rest changeable temperatures, but it was my idea to put the barrier smack in the middle of the room so you can brew both cold and warm potions at the same time!” His eyes and smile are massive.
I chuckle at his excitement. “That was a good idea,” I admit.
