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

didn’t think Ash would take long to figure out that “NW” didn’t actually stand for northwest.

“I promise it’s nothing,” I said, but Ash looked determined. My back hit a wall of a building and before I could slip away, his arms were on either side of my head.

“If it’s nothing, why are you hiding it?” Ash demanded.

I didn’t expect the moisture that sprung to my eyes. I wanted to tell him that nothing had gone right after my meeting with the duchess. But I knew if I did, he would have no wish to help me. I blinked, feeling hot tears run down my face.

Ash looked taken aback. He stepped away. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you—”

I shook my head. “Can you trust me?”

His eyes softened. “I do trust you.”

“Then understand I have my reasons. I...I want to go home.” My voice broke. I missed Theodora and Rowena and poking fun at our neighbors with Genevieve. I missed when all I worried about was filling up time. I even missed Lydia’s ramblings.

Ash pulled me into a hug. I buried my face into his shoulder and sobbed like a baby. His scent of evergreen and peppermint was a comforting familiarity in a sea of confusion.

“I’ll take you home,” he said.

“No. I’ll take a horse chaise.”

“Fine. But mark my words, I will find out what’s wrong,” he said. After a second, he gently kissed my knuckles and left.

Ash’s words repeated themselves in my head as I rolled down the street in the horse chaise. His kiss burned on the back of my hand like a promise—a promise I hoped he wouldn’t keep.

My eyes were swollen when I leaned over and told the driver to switch our route to the palace. He turned the horse around, reentering the outskirts of the city from the opposite side.

It was so late by the time I returned that I didn’t bother to check back in with Karen. The only thing that mattered now was setting things right.

I had to fix Lana’s mistake no matter what it took. She was wrong about humans, especially Ash. He needed my help.

I looked over the recipe Miriam gave me. The directions seemed simple enough, but it would take three days to make. Most of the ingredients could be acquired in an herb garden, but several of them I would have to beg off Miriam.

The next morning, I rose early and stuffed my pockets with sage and rosemary from the cook’s herb garden. Madam Josephine seemed surprised to see me on time as I passed the servants’ hall on the way to Narcissa’s chambers. I did my chores in silence as Karen boasted about her new ring. I wasn’t even upset when Narcissa left me nothing but a few crumbs of bread for dinner.

After dropping off her dishes in the scullery, I picked out a small pot that still had remnants of vegetable stew and smuggled it into my room. The leftovers served as my dinner. I slept easier that night knowing that in a few short days, I’d make the duchess confess her crimes and finally be freed from servitude.

I readied the brick oven in my room with a grate and a few coals I had stolen the next day. For the small pot, I fashioned a wire handle so it could hang like a witch’s cauldron. The day after that, I paid a visit to Miriam.

“You want what?” the witch asked, frowning at me through her gauzy veil.

“Pheender leaves,” I said. “Do you have any?”

Miriam snorted. “You think I have something as expensive as that lying around? And what do you need it for anyway? To make someone vomit?”

More specifically, to make someone vomit words. I suspected she was feigning ignorance, though she herself had given me a potion recipe a few days before. After pestering her for half an hour and even offering to purchase a snail, Miriam finally gave in.

“Fine! I’ll get you everything you need,” she said, scowling. “But you owe me an explanation. For everything.”

I sighed. “Only if you promise not to tell anyone,” I said, sinking into a pouf. “The truth potion is for the duchess.”

I explained helping Ash with the case, the framing of Captain Greenwood, and how the duchess found out I was a witch and forced me to be a scullery maid for her daughter.

Miriam threw back her veil when I finished. “All this time you were in trouble and you didn’t say anything?” She looked livid.

“I am now,” I said in a small voice.

She shook her head. “What you need to do is ask your aunt for the manbane antidote.”

“So,” I said with a frown, “you know Lana created manbane.”

Miriam sighed. “I do. And I understand how you must be feeling, but Amarante, your aunt isn’t the same witch she was when she made that potion.”

“She is not my aunt.”

“Fine,” Miriam said after a moment of glaring. “Since you insist on being stubborn, I have something that might postpone the effects of manbane for a few days.”

She rummaged through a hidden compartment underneath a chest of drawers and pulled out a familiar container. It was the general antidote I had given her so many weeks ago, untouched.

“Lana makes the best of the best,” she said when I made a face.

I took it with a sigh. It seemed that I couldn’t escape Lana even if I tried.

That same night, I began making the truth potion, pouring every bit of my focus into it. I lost hours of sleep sitting beside my makeshift potion room, fanning the coals to the right temperature and snuffing out embers before something blew up. My only companions were the occasional mice and roaches that scurried through the poorly patched holes along the walls. I was too tired to be disgusted by them.

My knuckles suffered extra raps the next morning for my lethargy. I told myself that every bruise was worth it as Karen fawned over a new necklace. If things went my way, her