Poetry in Potion Read online

  “Do you think that’s what's causing my stomach cramps?” An ogre yelled from across the room. A bucket rested on his lap.

  “It seems like a contender,” I said. “You might want to mention it to the healer when you’re finally seen.”

  “I don’t have a fever,” said the goblin next to him. “But I’ve had the runs all night. In fact, I’m wearing a diaper right now.”

  “TMI, Theodore,” his wife said.

  I pressed my lips together. “Thank you, everyone. I don’t really need to hear the specifics of your symptoms. Maybe spread the word to avoid the blackbird pie, though.”

  The healer’s assistant called my name and I jumped to my feet. “Thank the gods!” The sooner I put distance between all those green faces and me, the better.

  I waddled to the exam room behind him.

  “Good morning. I’m Grover Wells. I’ll be performing your examination today.”

  I stopped short. “Wait. You’re the new healer? I thought you were an assistant. You don’t look a day over twelve.” Was I going to let a baby druid deliver my hybrid baby? My arms circled my waist protectively.

  Grover gave me a friendly grin. “There’s no cause for alarm, Ms.…” He scanned my chart for my name.

  “You can call me Emma,” I said.

  “Great. Sounds like a plan.”

  “No, how we’re going to deliver my baby sounds like a plan. Emma sounds like a name.” My heart stuttered. The last thing I needed was unnecessary stress at this point in my pregnancy. I would never forgive Boyd for leaving.

  The druid retained his cheerful demeanor and tapped the table. “Why don’t you get settled up here and I can examine you. Make sure everything is ticking along as it should.”

  “I don't know,” I said, feeling hesitant. “You have a room full of patients with food poisoning out there. Maybe you should attend to them instead.”

  “I have an assistant helping as well. Don't worry about them.”

  Reluctantly, I climbed onto the table. “Kind of hard not to worry when your healer takes off without notice right before you’re due to give birth.”

  The druid began to check my vitals. “There’s no cause for concern, Emma. I’m trained for this, I promise you.”

  “Where exactly were you trained for this? The University for Gifted Children?”

  He snorted. “I wish I were that smart. I wasn’t even in the top half of my graduating class. Unfortunately, I’m just a hard worker who looks young for his age.”

  I sat perfectly still as his hands hovered over my heart. He made a quick note of my heart rate. “Hmm. A little high today. We’ll need to keep an eye on that.”

  “I can tell you why it’s higher than usual,” I said.

  Grover seemed amused. “I can make an educated guess.”

  “How old are you anyway?” I asked.

  “I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours,” he said. “I’m just kidding. I’m twenty-nine.”

  I gave him a hard shove. “No way! You cannot possibly be twenty-nine.”

  He regained his composure and instructed me to lay flat on my back. “I assure you that I know my own birthdate.” He rubbed his hands together until they glowed with an amber light. “My family takes me every year to the same restaurant that serves popcorn and anchovies as an appetizer. Thankfully, I live here now and can put an end to that particular ritual.” He held them over my stomach and focused.

  “Where are you from?”

  “A small town called Ruby Ridge. It’s even smaller than here. When Boyd left, the Spellbound clinic put out an emergency call for available healers. I had just given notice in my office and wasn’t sure what I wanted to do next. It seemed like kismet.”

  “Why did you want to leave?”

  He offered a rueful smile. “Because it was the most boring place on earth and I had zero chance of having a decent girlfriend there. I thought a fresh start would be the best thing for me.”

  “It’s always difficult to leave loved ones behind, even when you’re excited about a new beginning.”

  “My family will insist on visiting more often than I’d like, I’m sure.” His hands paused over the left side of my belly. “This baby is in a strange position. Have you been experiencing any sharp pains on the side?”

  I pondered the question. “Nothing unusual. I’m always experiencing aches and pains at this point. It’s hard to identify the exact spot.”

  “I see from your chart that this will be a hybrid baby. That’s cool. I’ve never delivered one of those before.”

  I leveled a gaze at him. “That’s not helpful information, Grover.”

  He rubbed my arm. “Relax, Emma. I see no reason why the birth of your baby should be different from anyone else’s. If minotaurs and ogres can have babies without complications, so can you.”

  “Listen, I don’t mean to be a special snowflake here, but the fact of the matter is that my baby is unprecedented. We have no idea what to expect. This baby could fly out of my butt and attack the nearest living being, which would be you by the way.”

  He chuckled. “Don’t you just love pregnancy hormones? They’re so vivacious.”

  I groaned in exasperation. “You’re the next generation, Grover. You’re not supposed to downplay women’s concerns.”

  “Stars and stones,” he said. “That wasn’t my intention at all. I’m so sorry. I was just trying to keep the mood light because I can tell how tense you are.”

  I swung my legs over the side of the table and sat up. “If everything looks good, I think I’ll be going now. You have plenty of more patients to see who aren’t plagued by pregnancy hormones.”

  He helped me to my feet. “Everything does look good, Emma. I would just advise you to try and avoid stressful situations. Stress is bad for the body and bad for the baby.”

  “Got it. No stress. I can totally do that.” Not even in my dreams. “Thanks for the tip, Doogie Howser.”

  He held up a finger. “It’s Grover, remember? Grover Wells.”

  “Right.” I shuffled out of the exam room and held my hands over my ears to block out the unpleasant sounds of regurgitation as I passed through the waiting area. To my gag reflex, it was like the song of the sirens.

  “Everything okay, Emma?” Quinty yelled, then promptly threw up all over the floor.

  I nodded vigorously and hurried out the door. One more second in the clinic and Gareth’s porridge was going to make another appearance. The moment I was outside, I inhaled deeply and let the fresh air fill my lungs. Sedgwick circled above my head.

  What are you doing here? I asked.

  Making sure the appointment went as expected.

  Not exactly, but the baby and I are fine. Can’t say the same for the new healer and his patients.

  Shall I escort you home? the owl asked.

  I don’t need a babysitter, thanks. Besides, I’m not going home. I need to go to the market. There’s something important I need to tell Daniel.

  The baby isn’t his? I knew it!

  I glared skyward. You know perfectly well this baby could be no one else’s.

  Ah, but it’s fun to dream. He flew higher to make sure he was out of reach.

  Watch it, pal, or you’re going to find your perch shoved up the chimney.

  Tsk, tsk. Pregnancy has made you so aggressive.

  Come closer and I’ll show you. I shook a fist at my familiar and he soared higher, laughing to himself.

  I’ll see you back at the house, Sedgwick said. Before I forget to mention it, I think Daniel might have broken the closet door in the nursery when he moved in the crib last night. Ta-ta!

  Wait, what? Daniel wasn’t supposed to move any furniture into the nursery until the walls were painted.

  “I’m supposed to try to avoid stress!” I shouted at the sky, just as an elderly troll passed by.

  She offered me a sympathetic look. “I think you’ll need to try harder, dear.”

  Right now, my only chance for a st
ress-free existence was a deserted island with plenty of premade meals and an endless supply of Ovaltine, so I did the only thing I could do. I took a deep, cleansing breath and carried on.

  Chapter Four

  I went straight to the market from my appointment to hunt for Daniel and tell him about the blackbird pies. He’d wanted to come early to make sure everything was running smoothly. At a glance, it seemed that not all the stalls were operational at this hour. Only about a quarter of the stallholders were busy setting up, which made it easier to spot my husband.

  I glimpsed his halo at the end of the aisle as it caught the morning sun. I tried to put a spring in my step, but my top-heavy body made it impossible. Instead, I wobbled as quickly as I could and hoped I didn’t keel over on the way.

  “Daniel,” I called.

  He turned at the sound of my voice, smiling broadly. When he noticed my serious expression, the smile melted away and his pace quickened.

  “What happened at the appointment?” he asked. “Is everything okay with the baby?”

  “We’re both fine, although I’m prepared to write Boyd a strongly worded letter. Did you know he left town?”

  “Now? How could he choose now to leave for vacation?”

  “Not even for a vacation,” I said. “He left forever.” I waved a hand. “That’s not as urgent as the other matter, though.”

  “Is this about the closet door?” he asked. “Because I can fix it. I just didn’t have time last night.”

  I forced myself to relax. “It’s not about the closet door.” I resisted the urge to tell him that Sedgwick ratted him out. “There were a handful of patients in the clinic who were puking their guts out and they all had one thing in common.”

  Daniel closed his eyes. “Please don’t tell me it was something from the market.”

  “The blackbird pie,” I said. “You’re going to have to tell the owner to chuck those pies.”

  He heaved a sigh before opening his eyes. “This is the hard part of the job.”

  I clasped his hand. “If it helps, I can come with you for moral support.”

  He leaned down and kissed my cheek. “What would I do without my rock? I would love that, thanks.”

  Together, we traveled down another aisle until we came to a stall with a sign that read 3.14.

  “Why do the stalls have such weird numbers?” I asked.

  A woman in an apron turned to face us. “It’s not the stall number. It’s the name of my business.”

  It took a moment to register. “Oh, pi! I get it.”

  The woman gestured toward a row of pies that were currently cooling on the top shelf. “That’s all I sell. Homemade with recipes handed down from previous generations. The name’s Camilla.”

  “Nice to meet you, Camilla. I’m Emma and this is my husband, Daniel.”

  Camilla wagged a finger at the angel. “I remember you. You gave us a little speech yesterday morning, before we opened.”

  “That’s right,” Daniel said. “I’m responsible for the market while it’s here in Spellbound.”

  Camilla regarded us both. “I’m so fascinated by this place. I jumped at the chance to come here. What was it like being trapped in a town for so long? Did you feel like prisoners or was it so normal that you barely noticed?”

  “I’m not really the best person to answer that,” I said.

  “It was the worst of times, but it was also the best of times,” Daniel said. “If I hadn’t been trapped here, I never would have met Emma.” He gazed at me with such love and adoration that my heart skipped a beat.

  “Aw, that’s so sweet that I actually feel sick to my stomach,” Camilla said.

  I held up a finger. “On that note, I understand you sell a blackbird pie. Is that right?”

  Camilla pointed to the top row of pies. “Got two right there. I use authentic blackbirds. No substitutes.” She leaned forward. “Is somebody saying that I baked another type of bird in my pies? I won’t put up with that kind of slanderous accusation.”

  “Uh, no,” I said. “Not exactly.”

  “The pies have four and twenty blackbirds, as promised,” she continued. “Maybe I should have baked it at 375 instead of 350.” She tapped her finger on her chin. “I’m always looking to perfect these recipes. My ancestors didn’t have access to the same modern equipment as I do, you know? It’s fun to tweak.”

  “I don’t know anything about baking blackbird pies,” I said. “What I do know is that there are several sick patients in the healer’s office this morning and the one thing they had in common was your pie from yesterday.”

  Camilla’s eyes popped. “My pies made them ill?”

  “It seems so,” I said.

  “I’m afraid we’ll have to ask you to stop selling them until we can figure out what happened,” Daniel added.

  Camilla’s expression crumpled. “All my pies or just the blackbird ones?”

  “I’m sorry,” Daniel said. “I think it’s best to keep all of them out of circulation until we have more information. At this point, we don’t know which ingredient is responsible.”

  Camilla buried her face in her hands. “It’s not like I was trying to poison anyone. I want my pies to sell. I need the money.”

  “No one’s accusing you of poisoning anyone,” Daniel said. “It could just be a bad batch, but residents are falling ill and we can’t have that. It’s bad publicity.”

  “No, of course. I understand.” Camilla gave her pies a mournful look. “I guess I’ll start packing them up. Can I still sell the decorative baking dishes? Nobody can eat those unless they have mallets for teeth.”

  “I won’t object to that,” Daniel said.

  “Help!” a voice shouted. “Somebody help!”

  Daniel sprinted in the direction of the voice. I tried to follow, but quickly discovered that my body and brain were not in sync.

  “Best not to run in those shoes,” Camilla called after me.

  I heard the distinct flip flop, flip flop of my shoes as I hustled down the aisle and rounded the corner to the next one. By the time I got there, Daniel was crouched low and a small crowd had gathered. As I drew nearer, I saw the body on the ground beside him and my hand flew to cover my mouth.

  “I found her like this when I arrived to set up my stall,” a young woman said. I recognized Louisa Loomis, the potion teller. “I thought she’d tripped and fallen or something, but when I got a closer look, I realized that her eyes were open.” She shuddered and hugged herself.

  “Who is it?” Daniel asked.

  “Claire Cronk,” Louisa said. “She runs the neighboring stall.”

  Paranormals murmured around us. I took another step toward Daniel and spotted the pool of vomit on the ground next to Claire's head. Whatever had killed her, she’d tried to regurgitate it first. My mind immediately went to the blackbird pie.

  “Daniel,” I said slowly. He craned his neck to look at me and I could tell from his turquoise eyes that he was having the same thought.

  “What’s going on?” another voice asked. My stomach lurched as I realized it was Bryan, Claire's husband.

  “Mr. Cronk,” Louisa said, trying to intercept him. She was too late.

  “Claire?” He gazed at the body on the ground, dumbfounded. Slowly, the color drained from his face. “Why is everyone standing around her? Why doesn’t someone help her?” His voice cracked at the end and I fought back tears.

  Daniel returned to a standing position and placed a comforting hand on Bryan's shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Cronk. She was already dead when we got here.”

  Bryan continued to stare at his wife’s limp body. “I said I would come and set up even though it was her turn, but she insisted.” He wore a faraway expression. “She always insisted and I always gave in. I didn’t like to argue.”

  “I’m not sure that would have mattered,” Daniel said. “If you were here and she was in your room, you still wouldn’t have been there to help her.”

  “You can’t
blame yourself,” I said. “We don’t even know how she died yet.”

  Bryan blinked and surveyed the area. “She threw up? She wasn’t sick when she left this morning.”

  “It may have come on suddenly,” I said, though the clinic patients seemed to have suffered through part of the night.

  “The sheriff is on the way,” someone said.

  Bryan squatted beside Claire's body. “Would you mind giving me a minute alone with my wife?”

  Dozens of feet shuffled away. I noticed Louisa still standing next to the stall. She bit the quick of her nails as she watched Bryan mourn his wife.

  “Are you okay?” I whispered, moving to stand beside her.

  “I’ve never seen a dead body before,” she whispered. “It doesn’t seem real.”

  Bryan met her troubled gaze. “You predicted this. I should have taken you more seriously. Then she would never have come here alone. I wouldn’t have allowed it.”

  Louisa sucked in a breath. “I did, didn’t I?” She gripped my arm. “I told Claire she had no future. Great merciful gods!”

  I patted her hand. “That’s what you do, Louisa. You can’t help what you see in the potions. You’re just the messenger.”

  “Make way for the sheriff.” I heard Deputy Britta’s voice before I saw the blond Valkyrie. “Ooh, cupcakes. I’ll be back for one of those.”

  Britta and her sister, Sheriff Astrid, appeared in the aisle. They wore matching somber expressions.

  “I understand we have a situation,” Astrid said.

  Bryan seemed too stunned to speak. He continued to sit by his wife, holding her hand.

  “I found Claire on the ground when I came in to set up my stall,” Louisa said. Her voice was shaking. “It looks like she vomited at some point. I don’t know how long she’d been here.”

  Astrid studied the body for a moment. “I’m sorry, sir, but I’m going to have to ask you to step away. I need to secure the area.”

  Bryan seemed reluctant to leave. “But she’ll be all alone.”

  “I’ll be with her,” Astrid said reassuringly. “And my deputy, too. She won’t be alone. I promise.”