Emma and the Elixir of Madness Read online

  “I forgive you,” said Emma.

  Meredith walked him to the door. Before going outside, Alan glanced back at Emma with narrowed eyes. Mama followed, bid them a safe walk home, and closed the door.

  With the danger to his life gone, Emma giggled at the way he’d looked.

  “Em, you… didn’t have anything at all to do with that, did you?” asked Nan, smiling.

  “No, Nan. He’s mean, so I thought it was funny. He looked silly.”

  Nan grinned. “That wasn’t druidic magic.”

  “Obviously,” said Mama, pouring tea. “Azurevine wouldn’t have worked if it was.”

  “What’s a Druid’s Curse?” asked Emma, pushing the chair Alan’s mother had used back where it belonged.

  “Well now…” Nan carried her tea into the new sitting area, and eased herself into a cushioned chair she’d taken a fancy to. “They’re a bit of old magic.”

  Emma followed and curled up on the nearest chair. Kimber sat with her.

  “There are people who hear the term druids and they think of pretty girls hugging fluffy rabbits or petting giant cats. Others think of forest nymphs dancing around in the woods wearing little more than flowers in their hair.” Nan winked.

  Emma grinned and Kimber giggled.

  “Your mother went through a phase—”

  Mama flared her eyes. “Mother…”

  Nan winked. “What many don’t understand is that druids can also be cruel. Some circles are quite mean-spirited and vindictive.”

  “Vin doc…” Kimber scrunched her face. “Wha?”

  “It means to take pleasure in seeking revenge. A druid’s curse is never the same twice. It is powerful ritual magic, which can last for years depending on the circumstance. A long time ago, far to the west, the elders of a town sought the assistance of a circle of druids to help their farms. A price was agreed upon for this help, a trade of grain, lamp oil, fabrics, and such. Alas, when the time came to pay, the town elders went back on their word. Some even accused the druids of doing nothing at all. They claimed the bounty in their harvest would have occurred anyway.”

  Emma gasped. “That’s stealing!”

  “Uh oh.” Kimber shook her head. “They’as gonnae ’gret that.”

  “Indeed they did, child.” Nan sipped her tea. “Oh, that’s still too hot.” She set the cup on a small table beside her chair. “The circle placed a Druid’s Curse upon the town. Nothing would grow there. The wells dried up, the cows, pigs, sheep, and chickens died, and people had nothing to eat.”

  Emma stared in horror. “They… killed the animals? But… they’re druids!”

  Nan let off a sad chuckle. “Druids are not required to be ‘nice,’ Emma. Within the world of animals, there is much death and suffering. Your wolves must kill in order to eat, for example.”

  “Yes.” Emma looked down.

  “Do not be sad for their prey, child. All spirit energy returns from whence it came, and shall stride upon the land again. No life is truly ever lost.”

  Mama glanced over, eyebrow raised.

  Nan sighed. “Don’t bother the child with netherworld creatures yet. She’s too young.”

  Emma gulped.

  “Well, fine.” Nan fluffed herself up. “In the natural order of things, no life is truly ever lost.”

  Mama, seeming satisfied, sat in a nearby chair with her tea.

  “Other Druid’s Curses have turned men into horses, or caused people to no longer be able to become drunk no matter how much wine they consume… as I said, it is different every time, and quite powerful magic. No druid would use it lightly.” Nan winked. “If only out of laziness at having to do all the work necessary to throw one.”

  Emma smiled.

  “’Ave ye ever done a’ druid curse?” asked Kimber.

  Nan pursed her lips. “Oh, perhaps a wee one.”

  Mama gave Nan the side-eye. “You did then?”

  “I may have taken offense to a particular old busybody who may have said a few things that ruffled this old raven’s feathers. Particular things rather cruelly insulting my daughter.”

  Mama’s face gained some color. She couldn’t seem to decide between being angry or wanting to laugh. “You did not curse Liam’s mother…”

  Nan sipped her tea. “Ahh. Perfect temperature.” She sipped again.

  “Mother…” Mama stared at Nan.

  “What? She lost her voice for a month. Pff. Big deal. It was a mild one.” Nan sipped tea.

  “Lost her voice?” Mama blinked. “The woman clucked like a chicken every time she tried to talk! She stayed silent on purpose.”

  Emma and Kimber laughed.

  Nan appeared pleased with herself and sipped tea again.

  “Can I go to bed now?” asked Emma.

  “Are you feeling all right?” Mama raised both eyebrows.

  “Yes. I’m tired from carrying stuff all day.” Emma yawned as she stood.

  “Nae alla way dark yet,” muttered Kimber, right before yawning.

  Mama kissed Emma on the head. “If you’re tired, go to bed.”

  Emma smiled. “Night, Mama. Night, Nan.”

  She plodded down the hall to the bedroom, stepped over Tam who’d flopped on the floor right inside the doorway, and approached the shelf at the end of her bed. She stared at the nightgown hanging on the peg, not sure if she had enough energy left to change. After a long yawn, she traded the dress Nan made her for the nightgown, and crawled into bed. A hazy minute or two later, Kimber cuddled up behind her. Emma smiled into the pillow, and faded off to sleep.

  2

  Herbalism

  Mama’s beckoning voice pulled Emma from a heavy sleep. Kimber lay draped across her, arms and legs askew, mouth open. She grunted, trying to push her little sister to the side, but couldn’t budge the sleeping weight of the girl on top of her. Emma shook her, tickled her sides, patted her on the cheek, and blew in her ear, but still Kimber slept.

  The house could be full of screaming piglets and she’d not wake.

  “Kimber!” yelled Emma.

  Tam yawned and stumbled out of bed with his eyes closed. He swayed on his feet for a second or two before grasping at nothing and moving his arms as if he put on his tunic and breeches. Still wearing only his smallclothes, he trudged out of the bedroom.

  Emma grunted and pushed up on Kimber’s shoulders. “Wake up!”

  “Wha?” Kimber reached a hand up and wiped at her eyes, dusting Emma’s cheek with a spray of crumbles.

  “It’s morning.” Emma rolled her sister toward the wall and slid out from under her. “Mama’s calling.”

  “Morning!” Kimber shifted to kneel and stretched her arms over her head, grinning.

  Mama walked Tam back in the door and proceeded to dress him. “Come on, girls.”

  “Coming, Mama.” Emma slid to her feet and changed from her nightgown into her favorite blue dress.

  Kimber stumbled on her way out of bed and wound up face down on the little rug in front of the rat’s house. “Cannae sleep ’bit more?”

  With Tam dressed, Mama gave him a light push toward the door and faced the girls. “Did you two stay up talking again?”

  “No, Mama.” Emma got a two-handed grip on her sister’s arm and pulled her to stand. “Last night, I fell asleep right away.”

  Kimber wobbled to the shelf of clothing and changed into a plain green dress.

  “Well, you have had some trouble adjusting.” Mama pulled Emma into a quick hug. “Guess it finally caught up with you.”

  Emma managed a weary smile and yawned again.

  “Come then. Time to eat. Nan’s going to take the three of you to learn a bit about herbs after.”

  “Yes, Mama.” Emma hurried down the hall to the front room, and after a quick trip out back to the privy, took her seat at the table.

  Da smiled, though looked as exhausted as Emma felt. “Morning, Em.”

  “Did you stay up all night talking with Mama?” She grinned.

 
“Hungry,” said Tam, bouncing in his chair.

  The privy door slammed with a distant clatter.

  Mama walked past the table with an impish smile, heading for the counter to help Nan cut fruit. “Sadly, your father got in late. Some business with the Watch.”

  Kimber scurried in from the rear hall and hopped into the chair next to Emma.

  “Ugh.” Da ran his hand through his hair. “Ol’ Loftin got it in his head that his cows woke him up, singing and laughing.”

  “Oh, did they now?” asked Mama.

  Da raised his eyebrows, staring into nothing. “There was no convincing the man he’d imagined it. Even said as soon as he went outside to tell them to keep it down, they complained about their feed. Stale or some such.”

  Emma laughed, imagining Da making the same face while talking to the man, fighting the urge to carry him bodily back to bed so he could go home and sleep.

  “Well, as far as I know”—Mama set a tray of hard breads, cheese slices, and apples on the table—“No one in that family uses any form of magic, druidic or otherwise.”

  “Cows donnae talk. An’ they donnae sing.” Kimber took some food to her plate.

  Imagining a row of cows singing like skalds got Emma giggling. “What did they sing?”

  “No idea,” said Da around a mouthful of food.

  Nan ran around with a skillet, giving everyone a slice of sausage. She returned the pot to the stove and settled in at the end of the table opposite Da. “Likely a ballad about the moooon.”

  Tam laughed food out of his nose.

  “Mother…” Mama seemed to be fighting the urge to laugh as well.

  “Well…” Nan took some food to her plate. “That’s what I’d sing about were I a cow.”

  Da flashed a half-smile. “This is udder nonsense.”

  Mama gave him a shocked look, and burst into peals of laughter.

  Still giggling on and off from the cow jokes that had continued during breakfast, Emma followed Nan across the meadow toward the forest. She figured Da had been tired, as he almost never made light of Watch business. Then again, a drunken Mr. Loftin imagining his cows singing had been far funnier than a fight at Eoghn’s Inn or catching thieves. Every few seconds, Kimber let out a gasp of delight followed by a disappointed sigh whenever she mistook a longfly or a bird for a faerie skimming low over the grass. Tam marched like a tiny knight, one hand gripping the wooden sword tucked in his rope belt.

  “Are you going to collect more Nymph’s Hair?” asked Emma.

  Nan smiled back at her before shaking her head. “No, Em. That grows too deep in the woods. To walk there would take most of the day. We’re not traveling far today. There’s plenty of useful plants near enough to the house you can learn to recognize.”

  “Kin’I make ae potion too?” asked Kimber.

  Tam swiped his hand at a passing white butterfly, which evaded him.

  “Well, there are some poultices and salves anyone without a magical gift can make. However, few destinations have only one road leading there.”

  Emma furrowed her eyebrows. “What do roads have to do with potions?”

  “Aye,” said Kimber.

  Nan chuckled. “Well, Em, you’ve helped make some potions, so you are aware how we ask the spirits to lend them power.”

  “Yes, Nan.”

  “Someone who does not have the favor of the spirits can substitute various rare ingredients for the magic, often these reagents are infused with power. Take dragon’s blood for example.”

  Tam gasped. “We’re hunting a dragon?”

  “No, Tam.” Nan ruffled his hair. “Someone who has spent years studying can find combinations of ingredients which produce potions similar in effect to what we can do with our magic. However, it’s much more difficult that way.”

  Emma closed her eyes as they approached the forest’s edge, and whispered, “Linganthas, please guide my step.”

  A tingle of magic swept down her body, protecting her from sharp thorns, rocks, and making it easier to navigate the woods. Nan followed a path, keeping a grip on Tam’s wrist so he didn’t race off. Emma walked behind her with Kimber at her side. The occasional hanging vine snagged on her sister’s dress, but flowed around Emma. She stared up past the trees at scraps of blue sky among the leaves, squinting whenever the branches shifted enough to expose sunlight. Soft thuds and snaps announced the presence of deer, small boar, or other animals, though none came close enough to see.

  Tam looked around with such a serious face he appeared to be a tiny version of Da. “I’ll pa’tect us from goblins.”

  “Goblins don’t come this close to town,” said Emma.

  “They’as do sometime,” muttered Kimber. “Hopin’ tae grab a li’l kid ’er an’ old’un.”

  Nan puffed herself up. “Well, this old’un has a bit of a surprise for any wayward goblin.”

  Emma grinned.

  They crossed a tiny creek, mere inches deep, which drew squeals from Emma and Kimber at the coldness of the water. Tam stooped to drink a few handfuls before running to catch up. Soon after, Nan veered left off the path. Neither she nor Tam appeared bothered by the brambles and vines, though Kimber’s dress and hair continued to snag.

  Emma stared in confusion at Nan until she noticed her holding the boy’s hand. She stopped, waited for Kimber to catch up, and took her hand. Emma pictured Nan’s explanation of using magic, needing to desire the effect to occur. She concentrated on wanting the Druid’s Step to extend its protection over Kimber. Three vines fell away from the girl’s copious red hair.

  It worked! Emma grinned.

  “Wha’as ya do?” whispered Kimber, staring down at her feet in awe.

  “Linganthas’s magic is protecting you too, but I think I have to keep holding your hand to share it.”

  Kimber nodded. “Aye. Feel like ae steppin’ onna bed now.”

  Nan walked on for a little while, glancing side to side. Before long, she headed to the right and came to a halt by a cluster of close-growing trees. White mushrooms littered the ground at the roots, with wide, flat caps, the largest of which as big as Da’s hand. A ring of thin grey membrane dangled from the midpoint of the narrow stalk, which looked like it should have been too weak to be able to hold up the thick cap.

  “Here we are.” Nan set her walking stick in the dirt and leaned both hands on it. “Em, do you know what these are?”

  “Mushrooms,” said Tam.

  Emma grinned. “Umm…” She crept closer, squatted, and examined one close without touching it. Most of them had brown gills, though the largest ones had turned purple inside. “You have some of these in your cabinet, but I don’t remember what they are. Not faerie’s throne.”

  At the word ‘faerie,’ Kimber snapped her head up and looked around.

  “You’re right, Em.” Nan chuckled. “Faerie’s throne mushrooms are bigger, and have bright red caps with white dots. These are alderscap.”

  “Oh.” Emma sniffed it, getting a nose full of wet dirt smell strong enough to taste. She reached a tentative finger out and fussed at the collar of membrane around the stalk.

  Nan pointed with her walking stick at a white lump that resembled a hen’s egg planted on end in the ground. “That bit clinging to the stalk is what’s left from a protective covering on the baby mushroom. It breaks open as the mushroom grows. For our purposes, the stalk isn’t useful. The natural energies we use are in the top. Alderscap are shy things. They only grow in old forests where people don’t disturb too much.”

  Emma poked a cap, finding it spongy and damp. “What do we use them for?”

  “Potions,” said Nan with a smile. She took a small cloth sack from within her cloak and handed it over along with a short knife.

  Snap.

  Tam turned toward the distinct sound of a breaking twig, and drew his wooden sword. “Somethin’s watchin’ us.”

  “Jes’ ae’ deer ’er pig ’er somefin’,” said Kimber.

  Emma accepted the knife and
sack, giving Nan an unamused stare. “Potions?”

  “Yes.” Nan chuckled. “This mushroom is useful in remedies for magical problems, and it is the main ingredient in a brew that removes unwanted magical effects.”

  Kimber gawked, mouth open. “Wha?”

  “You used one in the potion you and Mama made for Alan… to cancel the magic that made him part fish.”

  “Correct.” Nan smiled at Kimber. “If someone has bad magic working on them, the potion I make with this mushroom gets rid of it.”

  “Oh.” Kimber nodded.

  “Take only a single cap, Em. One with purple gills. Those are the older ones, which have more potency. Alderscap doesn’t like being collected. It rots to slime in only a few days unless it’s placed in mineral oil. If you forget it in your satchel, you’ll wind up with a handful like a goblin blew its nose. Cut it below the membrane and it takes a bit longer to rot.”

  “Eww!” yelled Kimber, squirming.

  Tam laughed.

  Emma shifted from squatting to kneeling, and gently sliced a big alderscap stem. She picked it up and eased it into the sack before handing both it and the knife back to Nan. Upon noticing her fingers covered in purple dust, she froze. “Nan… is this bad?”

  “Spores. As someone who uses magic, breathing them in or getting them in your mouth will make you feel a touch sick. It won’t do any permanent harm.”

  Tam froze, his wooden sword cocked back in preparation to smash a mushroom. He shot a worried look in Emma’s direction and lowered his weapon.

  She turned her face away and held her breath while clapping her hands back and forth to clear them of spore dust. Nan rattled on for a little while about how alderscap liked to grow in groups in the shade of large trees. Those who didn’t use magic could eat them, even cooked, and after a while, it would make them somewhat resistant to the effects of spells.

  Emma listened to Nan’s description, glancing over her shoulder now and then at a rustle or crunch. Though she didn’t see anything, she couldn’t quite set aside her worry that more than a simple animal lurked among the trees, and whatever she heard seemed to be following them.

  “What’s that?” asked Tam.