The Herbwitch's Apprentice Ireen Chau (best life changing books txt) 📖

yellow door. Lana knocked once. A faint voice came from within and we entered.

The interior was much bigger than the exterior suggested, a patterned rug carpeting the floor. A witch about Lana’s age lay along a worn couch. She had dark skin peppered with gold and silver hair tucked in a cotton bonnet. Her legs, which were covered in a thick quilt, shifted when we approached.

“Ah, Lana,” she said.

“Beatrice.” Lana set her basket on a side table and took a seat next to the woman. “Any changes?”

“Your health potion worked wonders,” Beatrice said. Her smile seemed familiar, but I couldn’t place where I had seen it. “I’m more energized than usual.”

Lana nodded. “You’ve been taking it regularly?”

“I have. Elowyn is adamant I keep it up. I’m afraid I would’ve forgotten if it weren’t for her.” Beatrice’s gaze shifted to me. “Hello. Who are you?”

I dipped my head. “Amarante Flora, madam. I’m Lana’s apprentice.”

“I never thought we’d meet,” she said. “You’re familiar with my daughters, I reckon?”

Her silver irises matched another’s perfectly. “Elowyn and...?” I trailed off.

“Rowena.”

“Oh!” I widened my eyes. So that’s why Elowyn seemed familiar. I curtsied. “Lovely to meet you. Rowena is like family to me.”

Beatrice nodded, looking wistful. “I haven’t seen her in sixteen years.”

“I brought you a new treatment,” Lana said abruptly, moving to a stool. “Amarante, the nixgrass.”

Why hadn’t Rowena seen her mother since I was born? Did she leave her family to take care of mine? My heart twinged at the thought, but I obeyed Lana and pulled out the herb bundle, a match, and a candle.

“How have you been feeling lately?” Lana asked.

“A little short of breath,” Beatrice said, tucking her hands into her quilt.

I lit the nixgrass and set it on the table. Yellow smoke spiraled upward, perfuming the air with its calming scent.

Lana motioned for her basket. I gave it to her. “Ideally I’d prescribe fresh air, but the nixgrass will have to do,” she said.

Beatrice exhaled. “I do miss summer mornings,” she said ruefully.

Lana fished out a couple of apples. “Here. Apples are good for the lungs,” she said, putting them in Beatrice’s lap.

“Oh, Lana. I couldn’t.”

“Take it. I got it from one of those annoying fellows at the Witch Market,” Lana said gruffly. “You ought to get some proper food in your system. It has been helping the others.”

So there were other witches suffering like Beatrice because of the lack of fresh food and air. It never occurred to me that witches could get sick.

The smell of something burning jerked me out of my thoughts. My sleeve was on fire. I barely had time to shriek before Beatrice flicked her hand and put out the flames, leaving a gaping, charred hole in the muslin.

“Thank you,” I said sheepishly.

“I remember your mother wearing that,” Beatrice said.

I blinked. “Wearing what?”

“That crystal pendant. Ah, yes, her enchanted object. She never took that off.”

My mouth parted. I looked to Lana. Her lips were pinched. They always were when she wasn’t pleased with something.

“We ought to get going,” Lana said, standing.

Beatrice looked at her. “You haven’t told her?”

Lana took her basket and traversed the room without another word. I scurried after, giving Beatrice an apologetic look before ducking out the threshold. I barely slipped out when Lana shut the door. She was already halfway down the street when I straightened. I ran to catch up.

“What did Beatrice mean?”

“Nothing. She was simply overtired.”

I frowned, looking down at my crystal. “She said this was my Mama’s.”

Lana kept walking. “She was overtired.”

Her voice was so firm that I didn’t speak another word on our walk back. Her pinched lips and creased brow were enough to force me to swallow my curiosity, no matter how difficult it was.

After all, it was a waiting game with Lana. She drove me away the first time I met her. Now, I was her apprentice. I would get my answers eventually.

When we were back in her cottage, I dared to speak again.

“I’ve been practicing,” I said, wishing my voice didn’t sound so small.

The walk must have quelled her mood. Lana grunted. “Potion-making?”

“And levitation,” I said. “See?”

I focused on a small vial on the counter and hovered it in the air.

“Very good. That was expensive,” she said, taking it and putting it into a cupboard.

“Oh.” My face reddened. “So, is this all for today’s lesson?”

Lana was silent for a moment.

“Yes,” she said at last. “You may go.”

“May I ask you a few questions first?”

She continued rummaging through her cupboard. “What is it?”

“Can you tell me more about manbane?”

Lana stopped rummaging.

“I was reading the potion book you gave me,” I said quickly, “and I was wondering why it didn’t mention any poisons.”

“I told you. Witches do not make poisons for malicious intent. It is the one law we have,” Lana said.

“I know,” I said. “But shouldn’t there be something about the one poison that made it into human hands?”

Lana exhaled. “If you must know,” she said in a low voice, “manbane drains years of life. Each day the victim is poisoned, a year is taken from their life. It is painful and insidious. Each night passes in agony and each day with exhaustion. Eventually it kills the victim. But not before inflicting terrible damage on their psyche.”

Perhaps it was the breeze from the window that caused the chills running up my spine and down my arms. Or perhaps it was the emotionless way Lana described the horrors of manbane. To think the queen was suffering through such a poison! Was Duchess Wilhelmina really capable of inflicting such horrors upon someone she called a friend? And the thing that bothered me most...

“What kind of witch would make such a poison?” I asked.

“Perhaps,” Lana said, her voice still stiff and emotionless, “one who was caught up in negative feelings. Perhaps they have repented.”

“Is there an antidote then?” I asked. “Surely there must be if they have truly repented.”

Lana closed the cupboard. “There is not an antidote, nor will there be any use for one. It has