The room Leah led Everna to was equal parts kitchen and brewery. There was no shortage of alchemical instruments intermixed with the expected commodities of a kitchen. A large table with an array of glass containers, mixing bowls, and a mortar and pestle, dominated the far wall. Immediately beside, several sacks of flour and sugar took up much of the interior corner. A shelf crammed full of jars and bottles with handwritten labels stood next to the larder.

Curious, Everna peered at the labels: crushed sweetflowers, which were often used as an alternative to granulated sugar, dried rose petals, chamomile, and the typical assortment of thyme, rosemary, and sage. Between those bottles were stranger ingredients — powdered Queen's Root, a glittering golden powder called Faerie Dust, a vial of something that looked suspiciously like blood, and a jar filled with a strange, gelatinous black mass that Everna was certain was moving.

"Magical components and the likes," Leah explained. "They're used for potions when spells wouldn't work otherwise."

Potions weren't rare — Everna couldn't swing a dead cat (not that she would want to) without hitting an alchemist in the capital, and Pendel had a couple of its own — but quality potions weren't as common. Alchemists looking to profit off their stock brewed their potions en mass and only cared for enough quality to remain above the sales requirements. Their patronage was equally unconcerned; as long as it worked, it was good enough for them.

Only when it pertained to healing potions, where quality could mean the difference between life and death, were people more selective.

"Is it as complicated as people say it is?" Everna asked. "I've always wanted to try, but none of my roommates would let me near their arrangements, as I can't cast."

"Only when attempting to create a new concoction. So long as you follow the directions as written, you shouldn't have a problem," Leah said. "Not all potions require magic, and for many of them, the magic comes from the ingredients. Most alchemists won't tell you that, though. They'd lose business if people knew they could make most brews in their kitchen." After a brief pause, she asked, "Would you like to try?"

"Perhaps after I've eaten," Everna said.

"Then you can watch me prepare a sleeping draught while you eat.” Leak plucked the container of Queen's Root from the shelf. "You're more than welcome to cook, but there is a loaf of fresh bread and a wheel of cheese, as well as several jams if you'd rather have something quick."

Everna was good at cooking, but the hunger gnawing at her gut insisted upon a quick and easy meal. As she cut a few slices from the loaf and smeared them with a generous helping of apple jam, Leah continued to gather her ingredients. Once finished, the jars and vials set in a neat row on the edge of the table, she plucked a few pieces of wood from the rack near the stove and wedged them beneath the small cauldron perched on the floor by the table.

With a flourish of her hands and a muttered incantation, a burst of flames spread along the wood. By the time Everna finished preparing her breakfast and returned to the table, the water inside the cauldron was boiling.

"You're a mage? I thought you were a cleric."

"One can be both. I was a mage before I found my way to the clergy.” She pulled a thick leather-bound tome from the small collection of books stacked on the far edge of the worktable. "I'm making two, so the portions will be twice what they are in the book."

"Wouldn't the Queen's Root be too strong?"

Leah raised a brow. "Yes, it would. You know about it?"

"My mother used to make sleeping draughts for my brother when he was younger," Everna said, taking a bite of her bread. "He always had trouble sleeping, especially during storms.”

"Corden?"

It was Everna's turn to raise a brow. "You know him?"

"I've known him for some years now,” Leah said. “He speaks of you rather frequently. Enough that I thought you looked familiar when I saw you," she said. Then an exasperated sigh pulled from her lips. "He often stumbled — and still does, mind you — into my clergy. That man breaks a bone every week, it seems."

"That's my brother for you," Everna chuckled. "And I'm sure the stories behind each instance are absurd."

If he was still anything like she remembered, Everna hadn't a doubt he'd found no shortage of trouble since he left for the capital; if it didn't find him, he went looking for it.

"That's putting it mildly," Leah said. "He's a good man, but gods, he can be an utter fool."

"Oh, believe me. He's been giving my mother heart-stops since he could walk. It's a miracle she doesn't have a full head of gray hairs because of him."

Sometimes, she thought it a miracle he was still alive.

Leah snorted once more and held up the powdered Queen's Root. "But to answer your question, yes, a double dose would be too strong, but the ratio between the powder and the water would dilute it."

"Oh. That's obvious," Everna muttered.

"Not quite. It's a reasonable question. Without boring you with the details, there's a difference in the way the powder and liquid forms are produced that leads to one being less potent than the other. Liquid Queen's Root, which was used on the arrow Shroud hit you with, is far stronger."

She dumped two small spoonfuls of the fine white powder into the cauldron. The water seemed to bubble more violently. Then, much to her surprise, it turned a sickly blue.

"There are two ways to make sleeping draughts," Leah continued. "Were I using a spell, I would merely need water, the Faerie Dust, which would act as a binding agent, and a touch of magic. This is the non-magical way, which requires a few extra ingredients. Powdered Queen's Root, useful as it is, is horribly bitter. So bitter that it's impossible for most to drink without vomiting."

She threw a handful of rose petals into the mixture, and the water bled violet.

"Is that what the roses are for, then?"

"Yes, but there is another reason. Queen's Root, like most plants with magical properties, has its drawbacks. You likely didn't notice, as your dose was so great it sent you straight into a comatose state, but it's notorious for inducing terrible nightmares. When combined with rose petals, however, it has the opposite effect. No one is sure why."

It had the same effect on the water as well. The original color was off-putting, so much so that Everna wouldn't have drunk it even if she'd known what it was. The soothing violet looked far more enticing, much like the lavender teas her mother often had with her evening meals. Leah added a bit of honey and a handful of white powder, stirred the mixture, and left it to boil.

"Who is the draught for?"

"Wil and Osain," Leah said as she wiped her hands on the towel hanging from the wall above the brewing table. "Neither of them will sleep without it."

"Half-elves sleep?"

"Perhaps not for as long, but yes. They need sleep as much as us humans do. I'm sure you've noticed how cranky Wil can be. He's lucky if he sleeps more than two hours a night, if he sleeps at all."

Cranky wasn't the word she'd have used to describe him. She knew what crankiness looked like; she spent three years in an academy full of sleep-deprived students — she'd been one herself. Wil seemed more temperamental and impatient than anything.

Leah flashed her another apologetic smile. "Don't take it to heart. Everyone here can be quite abrasive at first."

"I gathered that much."

Leah shook her head, a sad smile touching her lips. "Excluding Vina, who's just incorrigible and unbearable most of the time, they are good people, but well, let's say they've been through much. You'll find most people in Shadowguard are like that — good people burdened by the weight of an unforgiving world."

Everna took a bite of her breakfast and chewed slowly. "What exactly is Shadowguard? Wil sort of explained it, but not very well."

"While I would think the name speaks for itself, there are books in the library that may offer a better description of who we are and what we do."

"There's a library?"

"Something of one. Come, I'll show you while the potion boils."

From the kitchen, Leah led her through the door behind the bar and into what looked to be a repurposed wine cellar. It reeked of earth and old wood, the brick walls and dusky floor bearing a vague resemblance to the cellar beneath the Dancing Dragon. Weapons racks hung between shelves of scattered liquors and potions. A pile of crate sat precariously stacked in one corner, and a cluster of small barrels in another. Crammed into the space beneath one shelf were three kegs.

The cellar opened into a wide hallway lined with doors. As they passed the first of several, Everna caught the sound of clashing blades and, beneath it, muffled conversation. Just as she passed the door, she caught a mention of her name. Unable to contain her curiosity, she backtracked and pressed her ear to the door.

“You think she’s a spy?”

The sharp ring of a sword preceded the response. “It wouldn’t be the first time some hussy used her looks to fool Wil into doing something stupid. You know how he is. That idiot can’t help himself when a girl bats their eyelashes at him.”

“Yeah, but supposedly the Guard chased her out of Pendel,” the other countered. She couldn’t quite tell which of the two siblings it was, but the voice was a touch deeper than the first.

“Shroud does all kinds of things that seem counterproductive,” the first argued. “Who’s to say it wasn’t all a show to get Wil to bring her here so she can stick her nose into everything?”

“Look, I’m just as against this as you are, but I don’t think she’s here because she wants to be. I just think it’s a bad idea if Shroud’s looking for her.”

“You don’t eavesdrop on a conversation unless you’re up to no good.”

“We were talking about her,” the man said. “I’d be listening too if I were her.”

“I don’t care what we’re talking about. She has no business listening.”

Everna rolled her eyes. “Then maybe don’t have a conversation, which I could hear all the way upstairs, in a public space. Or better yet, be quieter if you’re that concerned. You don’t want me listening, then keep my name out of your mouths.”

The conversation on the other side of the door came to an abrupt halt. With a huff, she pulled away from the door and continued down the hall. The attitude would likely come back to bite her in the rear, and while she normally couldn’t care less what people thought of her, she’d had enough of wild and baseless accusations.

She wanted no part of this anymore than they did.

Feeling the first signs of irritation set in, she drew in a deep breath. She wanted no part of it, but her desires had little bearing on the situation. The matter escalated beyond her control. Fighting it or throwing a fit over the unfairness of it all would get her nowhere. It was what it was, and the only thing she could do was deal with it.

At the end of the hall, Leah stood waiting for her, a perfect brow raised in question. When Everna offered no explanation, she merely shrugged and pushed the door open.

To call it a library would be generous. The room was hardly larger than Sir Swiftbrook’s office. Tall, floor-to-ceiling shelves, crammed full of books, covered three of the four walls. In the center was a two-seated couch and two armchairs position around a small, wooden table.

Leah stepped past her and pulled a thick black book from the shelf closest to the door. “For obvious reasons, we don’t keep anything that goes into the details of our workings, but we do have general texts which explain the history of the organization.”

Everna took the book from her and turned it over in her hands. “I thought it was an underground organization.”

“It’s underground in the sense that you won’t find us patrolling the streets as you would the Guard or, at the very least, wouldn’t know if we did,” Leah explained. “We’re certainly not unknown, but we’re not out in the open, either.”

People knew they existed, but not where to find them, Everna assumed.

She pulled the cover of the book open and peered inside. It was a handwritten copy — a rarity these days. Most books were penned by printing quills, which remained precise and consistent throughout the entire work. The words scrawled across the yellowed pages slanted and each line showed a clear downward trend, giving the illusion of crookedness.

Interest piqued, she dropped into the nearby armchair and began leafing through the pages. It read a bit like a textbook, but without the monotonous droning of most historical accounts. There was an almost personal touch to it that made it far more enjoyable to read.

Shadowguard was as old as Inverness, allegedly founded by Queen Everna herself to protect the kingdom from Shroud, who controlled the region during that period. Everna found it odd; if Shadowguard was so heavily ingrained into Inverness’s history, how had she not heard of them before? Had the kingdom wiped any mention of them, just as they had with Shroud?

As if sensing her question, Leah sighed. “Queen Everna didn’t intend for Shadowguard to be known. Within the last fifty years, there’s been a push to be more visible, and some places have taken that step. It’s a rather controversial topic within the organization.”

“Yes, well, being known certainly defeats the purpose of being underground,” Everna said.

“It’s a little more complicated than that,” Leah said. She slipped into the armchair opposite of her and pressed a finger to her temple. “The push for visibility has caused a divide among ideologies, as well as doubts regarding Shadowguard’s efficacy.”

Everna hummed. The display she witnessed a few moments ago attested to that claim. Osain admonished them much in the way an exhausted father addressed his troublesome children rather than trained agents of a legitimate organization.

“This is not an ideal introduction to the organization. Under normal circumstances, you’d be scouted and vetted before we even approached you, then sent to a training facility, which is much more organized.” Leah admitted. “Osain deals with the special cases, shall we say?”

“Why do I have a feeling ‘special’ means incompetent?”

Leah sighed and slumped in her seat. “While I would normally prefer not to have this conversation, I think it’s best I assure you Shadowguard is both trustworthy and reliable, though it may not seem that way. Therefore, as much as it pains me to, I will be honest. You are correct. Beyond Wil and I, who were called in from the capital, Osain’s cohort deals with the inadequates.”

“So, I’m to place my life in the hands of what amounts to Shadowguard’s rejects?”

“Their inadequacy is less a matter of skill and more of mindset,” she explained. “As I said, don’t take it to heart. Vina’s Anwellian, so expecting anything of her is a lost cause, but Lisette and Cedric have their reasons for being guarded.”

Everna scoffed. There was a difference between being on guard and making baseless accusations. It was hard to “eavesdrop” on a conversation she could hear halfway up the stairs. She found it very difficult to believe being guarded had anything to do with the implications that’s she’d seduced her way into the safe house — because she definitely wooed him with her horrible haircut and lack of consciousness.

“The situation isn’t ideal and we’re horribly unprepared for it,” Leah admitted. “Wil went to Pendel expecting a something of local political dispute; we hadn’t suspected Shroud’s involvement at all. They’re our primary enemy, but not the only one.

“To be completely transparent, as far as Shadowguard’s concerned, you’ve served your purpose; you lured the culprits into revealing themselves. We’d hoped that would be the end of it, but it only complicated things further. It’s now a matter of keeping you alive, and I can promise you, Shroud will make that as difficult as possible.”

Everna bit back a sigh. She appreciated the honesty, as much as it unsettled her. The book mentioned Shroud, as well as their misdeeds; having an organization that dealt primarily in death after her was not a comforting thought.

Leah reached over and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “They may make it difficult, but under prepared as we are, Shadowguard specializes in thwarting Shroud.”

Shadowguard

0 Comments