“Okay, time to see if it worked,” I told the cat, who lifted his head where he was curled up on the kitchen table. Getting up with a stretch and a yawn, he nimbly dropped down and followed me out of the cottage.
I’d made some little wooden markers in preparation, and I carefully pushed one into the dirt in front of each small shoot that I poured the potion over. Then I watered the rest with normal water and stood back.
Nothing happened.
I chewed on my lip, staring at the plants.Willingthem to grow faster. They didn’t.
The cat wound round my ankles, purring loudly as if he was trying to comfort me. Trying not to feel too dejected, I picked up the bucket and went inside to rinse it out. Maybe it wasn’t immediate. Maybe it was gradual. It didn’t necessarily mean I’d failed.
I cleared away all the ingredients and tidied up the sideboard, then started preparing dinner on the small wooden butcher’s block that sat in the centre of the room, all the pots and pans stored underneath. As I peeled and chopped carrots, I kept glancing over at the window even though I couldn’t see the herb garden through it. I smiled at the cat when he lifted his head and blinked at me sleepily.
I forced myself not to go and check until the stew was simmering over the fire. Then I wiped my hands on the square of linen I used as a tea towel and sighed as I looked over at the cat.
“Shall we go see if it worked?”
Once again, he stretched and jumped down to follow me. I braced myself for the sting of disappointment as I went outside and round to the side of the cottage.
When the herb garden came into view, I stopped dead. “Oh my god.”
The plants I’d watered with the potion were now twice the size of the others. I hurried forwards and dropped to my knees, wanting to touch them to make sure they were real, but I didn’t dare.
“Oh my god,” I said again as I grinned down at the cat, who was rubbing up against my side. “It worked.”
I felt embarrassed when my vision went blurry, even though no one was here to see it except the cat. I’d actuallydone it.I’ddone this. Maybe it was stupid to be so happy about it—they were just plants—but I was elated. If I could do this, I could make other potions.
I wanted to pick up the cat and hug him but refrained, knowing he wouldn’t like it. Instead I bent down and kissed his sweet little head. “You’re my good luck charm.”
He purred madly, leaning up to rub against my chin.
I wanted to just sit there and see if I could actually watch them grow, but I had to go in and have a bath in case Lonandidshow up tonight. I scrambled up and went back inside, biting my lip with nervous excitement at the thought of telling him.
Would I? Would he even be interested? He was obviously attracted to me, but that didn’t mean he cared about any other aspects of my life. Except if I would shed my mortal skin, because that was what his mother wanted.
Besides, if he did show up, I doubted we’d be doing much talking. That wouldn’t be what he came for. Even as lust tightened my gut, the thought made me kind of sad.
I distracted myself by getting the bath ready. While the water heated, I made sure the bed was made and the living room looked tidy, feeling unaccountably nervous. The cat was curled up on the kitchen windowsill, but after I’d gotten in the bath and washed my hair, he padded into the living room.
Stretching up to place his paws on the edge of the tub, he meowed at me sleepily.
“Are you going?” I asked, craning my neck to see out of the window in the bedroom. The sun was setting, and the cat always left before it got dark.
He meowed again, so I leaned over to kiss his head. “See you tomorrow.”
After he’d slunk back into the kitchen to leave through the open window, I scrubbed my body thoroughly with the soap and climbed out, shivering a little at the temperature change before the fire started warming me.
Once I was dressed, I went outside to get the laundry in before it got dark. I was reaching up to tug a shirt off the rail when I noticed the note pinned to the tree.
Abandoning the clothes, I hurried over to get it. As I walked back towards the cottage, I unfolded the yellowed piece of paper.
Ash,
You’re doing well, but you must move faster. The potioncraft is a good start—it has always been your calling. Embrace it. Don’t doubt yourself.
Eat the food. Drink the wine. Sit out in the moonlight. Shed your mortal skin.
The end of the Mild Months is approaching. Soon the Carlin will be in her prime, and she will grow more impatient.
Stay in the cottage. Shed your mortal skin. Come into the forest. We will be waiting.