Chapter 11
I HAD MET Jordan Farrows when Bubba had accidentally turned into a human. Bubba hadn’t been happy, and I certainly hadn’t been happy, and Jordan had come to the rescue. Ever since then, I had been going to him for all sorts of advice and remedies. If I hadn’t been dating Aegis, Jordan would have been the type of man I should have fallen for, but probably wouldn’t have. He was cute, charming, smart, and eleven shades too nice for me.
As I swung into his office, I saw Max sitting there. “Is Jordan ready for us? I’ve got some news for both of you.”
Jordan popped his head out from the back. “I’m ready. Eileen, can you please move my afternoon appointments that aren’t an emergency and let me know how much of my schedule that frees up? This is urgent.”
Eileen, working away behind the desk, nodded. “On it.” She was a woman of few words and many talents.
Max and I followed Jordan back to his office. The ghost snail was in a tank on a credenza, and I shuddered when I looked at it. That thing could send me right after Sandy if I touched the slime.
“Pretty thing, but scary as all hell to someone like me,” I murmured. “Listen.” I turned to the men. “You know that side effect about Sandy’s dreams manifesting? Consider it no longer a potential side effect, but a fact. We have a problem on our hands.” I told them about the snake and the ducks. “I know they have to be connected. Bedlam is a weird and charming town, but it doesn’t usually play host to monsters that look right out of someone’s…nightmares.”
Max rubbed his forehead. “Sandy loves ducks. Sandy also likes snakes but told me that she occasionally has a dream about a giant snake that’s out to get her. She was going to talk to a therapist about figuring it out so she can put a stop to it.”
“Tell me about it. Aegis and I fought the snake last night. It was tangible, but when Delia and her men shot it, it vanished. Can these creatures actually hurt us? The snake knocked me around, but could it have killed me?” I wondered if this was like the Matrix. If you believed there was no giant spoon trying to shovel you up, then maybe the spoon wouldn’t exist.
Jordan dashed my hopes on that front.
“Yes, they can most certainly hurt—and kill.” Jordan motioned for us to sit down. “I have a list here of the herbs that I need to create an antidote. The problem is, some are very rare and at least one has to be harvested fresh. I know that McGee’s Apothecary won’t carry them and I probably can’t order them in the time we have.”
“I’m pretty good with a sickle and basket,” I said, reaching for the paper.
“But can you breathe underwater?” Jordan slid the copy of the list my way.
“Um, that’s a big fat no. Why?” I glanced over the names. There were twelve plants listed, and most I hadn’t heard of.
“Because several of those plants grow underwater and we’re not talking shallow banks, either. I’ve marked the one that has to be freshly harvested. I’ll start putting out feelers for anybody who can help us. Meanwhile, see what you can do.”
Max cleared his throat. “What happens to Sandy if we kill the creatures in her dreams? At least the ones that seem to be doing damage or threatening people?”
Jordan pursed his lips, thinking. After a moment, he shrugged. “I’m not at all certain, to be honest. But we can’t just let them run around loose.”
“How is she? Can I see her?” I wanted to talk to her, to see if I could find some sign that she could hear me, but I already knew it was futile. Max had already tried that.
“If you like, but she’s not going to know you’re there. She’s trapped in her dreams, unable to pull out,” Jordan said. “The antidote is the only thing that can help her. That’s where your time is best spent.”
“Right. I’m only her best friend. My presence won’t do any good at all.” Grumpy and feeling terribly alone, I stared at the list, then looked up to find both Max and Jordan staring at me. I let out a long sigh.
“Sorry. Just…Sandy and I go back so far that it’s hard to remember when we weren’t friends. She’s always had my back, and I’ve always had hers. But now, it feels like I’m letting her down. And don’t say I’m not, because I know you’re right. It’s just…I hate feeling helpless.”
They glanced at each other, as if at a loss for what to say.
“Right.” I pushed myself to my feet and slung my purse over my shoulder. “I have several contacts who deal in herbs. Maybe they can help. Meanwhile, I should let Delia know what’s going on.”
“Maddy,” Max said, standing. “Please. Sandy would rather lose an arm than lose you. You two belong together. No matter who else is in your lives, the two of you will always have a bond that nobody else can touch. We do understand.”
I gave him a ghost of a smile. “Thanks, Max. I’m going to get moving. Give her a kiss for me when you see her.”
Before either one of them could say another word, I sped for the door, not wanting to face any more expressions of pity. Sandy’s life was hanging on the line. I would do whatever I could to help her.
FIRST CHORE: CONTACT Delia. That was easy. I gave her a quick call and explained what was happening, reassuring her there was nothing we could do except take care of whatever happened to manifest out of Sandy’s dreams.
“How are the ducks, by the way?”
“Loud. Hungry. We have to figure out some way to feed them before they riot, but that’s my job. You go do what you can to find those herbs.” She hung up but not before I heard a massive racket behind her. The ducks were unhappy and letting everybody know about it.
I glanced at my phone. It was nearly five p.m. I put in a call to Garret James. A snakeshifter, Garret had a background in Dirt Magic and he was extremely good at working roots. He wasn’t home, so I left a message that I had an urgent question and could he call me as soon as possible. After that, I decided to head for home. I could at least start researching the herbs and try to figure out where we could get hold of them.
I parked in the back and was headed for the kitchen door when my phone beeped. A text message from Garret said he would be home in an hour and I was welcome to drop by.
From out on the back patio, I could see that Kelson was in the kitchen, eating a sandwich. Luna was sprawled on the kitchen table, licking her butt, and Bubba was asleep on one of the chairs. Kelson was hand feeding Luna little bits off her sandwich. She glanced up guiltily as I opened the door.
“Maddy, you’re home.”
“Yeah. I see you’ve met the newest addition to our family.” I told her about Tina and what she had planned for Luna. “I couldn’t let that happen.”
“What a bitch. I’ll pick up another cat food dish and make certain to set out a second litter box.” She paused, glancing back at me. “Are you all right?”
“No,” I said, sliding into the chair. “I learned…” I stopped as Mr. Mosswood peeked into the kitchen after giving a timid knock on the doorframe.
“Excuse me, but is there any way I could get a little snack? I seem to have miscalculated and forgot to eat lunch, and it’s several hours till dinner.” He was so polite that neither Kelson nor I could help smiling.
“I’ll bring you some cheese and crackers and grapes. Will that work?” I was hungry too and decided I might as well join him. It would do me good to get out of my head for a while.
“I’d like that. Thank you. I’ll meet you at the dining room table.” He withdrew. While there was no rule preventing the guests from entering the kitchen, we discouraged the behavior. I wanted to keep some parts of the house private, for us only.
Kelson brought out the cheese and I told her to slice some for me, too. I arranged an assortment of crackers on a tray, then added green grapes. Kelson handed me a plate of cheddar and gouda, and I slipped that alongside the crackers. Adding two bread-and-butter plates to the tray, I picked it up.
“I’ll tell you about my day later,” I whispered to Kelson, then carried the tray out to the table, where I sat across from Henry. “I hope this will do?”
He smiled. “Perfect. Are you going to join me?”
“If you don’t mind. I need a little snack, too.”
We sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes, eating. Then, wiping the corners of his mouth with his napkin, Henry let out a sigh.
“I’m sorry about your friend’s restaurant. I heard that it burned to the ground. Wasn’t it supposed to open this week?”
“Next week, actually. That’s obviously not going to happen.” I shrugged. “We don’t know who torched it or why.”
“That strip of land has an interesting background.” Henry reached for another cracker. “I ran across references when I was researching Bedlam’s history.”
I perked up. “Really? I don’t know anything about it.”
“Oh, it has a colorful past. King Leonal owned that strip until Bedlam annexed it in 1922.”
Something was tapping at my brain, telling me to pay attention. “Who was King Leonal? Bedlam never had a king.” I paused, wracking my brain, but the name didn’t sound familiar.
“Why, he’s the king of the North Pacific Meré. He’s still very much alive, I think. They live off the coast of Bedlam, down in the waters of the straits. His people owned the Strand, and they used to hold wild parties there. I trust you know about the Merés’ hedonistic sides?” He blushed, as though he had just said something shocking.
I grinned. “Oh yes, I know all too well. But I didn’t know there was a Meré enclave that nearby. I know there’s a selkie pod, though they don’t intermingle with the merfolk. And I know we have merfolk around, but I had no idea that there was an actual merfolk city. So they owned the strip of beach that the Oyster Bar is on?”
Henry nodded. “Yes. In fact, King Leonal was loath to relinquish it, but the city council apparently put the pressure on, and he gave in. A number of the Meré still have hard feelings over the sale, I gather. The city of Bedlam, at that time, promised to use the Strand as a public beach, but over the years, has sold some of the land. Your friend’s new restaurant is actually on one of the places the Meré favored.” He popped a grape in his mouth.
I sat back, thinking for a moment. If there were hard feelings against Sandy for buying the section of beach, could the other events be connected? The ghost snail was a sea creature, after all. “How do you know all this?”
“An entire section of the book that I’m writing examines the political tensions surrounding the species on the island. All of that came up in the research.”
As I finished my cheese and crackers, I thought over how to phrase my next question. I absolutely did not want to put Henry in jeopardy. “So if you’re up on Meré politics, can you tell me more about the king? You say he’s still alive?”
“Yes, he is, though I think his son is doing more of the outreach at this point. Prince…” He paused, squinting. “Let me think. Oh yes, Prince Mellaton, his name is. The Meré settlement is located about three miles off the northern tip of the island, almost straight down from Point Roberts. The Meré used to hold their land-based celebrations on that strip of beach, which is why Bedlam council members decided to buy them out. They were extremely…” He paused.
“Yeah, I know what the Meré are like during their celebrations. That would have given the the islanders an x-rated show, up close and personal.” The merfolk were hedonistic, to put it mildly. They made hard-core porn look boring. I winked at Henry and he blushed even further.
“Yes, exactly. So there was a furor when the land was sold, and a lot of disgruntled members of the Meré have never fully accepted Bedlam shoving them off the beach. Which, truthfully, the council didn’t. They offered a good price for the land and King Leonal accepted. But you know how some folk can be.” He glanced at the clock. “I need to get back to my work now. Thank you for keeping me company, Ms. Gallowglass.”
“It’s just Maddy,” I said. “Have a good evening.” I gathered up the dishes and carried them into the kitchen, telling Kelson she could wipe the counter. Then, I headed for my office. I had some research to do.
I brought up Wyrdwix, the Otherkin search engine, and typed in “King Leonal.”
The list of search links was long and impressive, and I began going through them. I learned more than I expected to within a few minutes.
Apparently Leonal had an appetite for debauchery, and he had passed it down to his son.
No surprise there. The Meré were a hedonistic race who cared more about their own pleasure than anybody else’s, and they had a tendency to chase after humans, considering them easy conquests. Witches and the Meré got along for the most part, mostly because we went out of our way to stick to business arrangements rather than getting personally involved with the sea creatures. But humans… Humans had a fascination with mermaids and mermen. Unfortunately, they didn’t understand what they were getting into. The Fae could be far more deadly and seductive, but they were also easier to interact with. Merfolk tended to be capricious and quick to anger, and they bore long, petty grudges.
So if somebody high up in the Meré community was mad at Sandy for buying part of the Strand, they might well have sought revenge. I looked up ghost snails in relation to merfolk, and sure enough, the Meré had been known to use them as weapons against witches, just like they sent large sharks after fishermen they considered to be intruding on their territory.
I pushed my mouse back, staring at the screen. That didn’t answer the question of exactly who was after Sandy, but it did give me a clue as to the why. Since merfolk could walk on land up to eighteen hours at a time in the guise of humans—though I could usually pick them out easily—they could easily have come ashore to go after her.
Gillymack. I needed to find the merman. He and I got along fine, as long as I avoided his perpetual lust. I could probably get him to spill anything he might know for enough booze or money. Last I had seen him had been a few months back when he was working at Bouncing Goats Espresso by order of the sheriff. He had incurred a hefty fine and Delia had ordered him to work for the money rather than bum it off of somebody else. I didn’t know if he was still there, but I could find out easy enough. And then, I’d pay a visit to Garret James to ask him about the herbs.
Grabbing my purse and keys, I headed for the door. “Kelson, I’m going out again. I’ll be back in an hour or so.”
“Fine. I’ll hold down the fort.” She waved as I slipped out back to my car.
I ARRIVED AT the Bouncing Goats Espresso Shack in record time. Apparently rush hour on the island was taking a different route today. Instead of going through the drive-thru, I walked up to the window. Bouncing Goats was a small stand that did big business, and they made the best coffee on the island. I wasn’t sure what beans they used, or how they made it, but it always tasted fresh, without much of the weird nutty flavor some smaller companies had to their coffee. I leaned on the counter, waiting, until a young woman dashed out from the back. She looked bright and fresh, so I figured it must be the start of her shift.
“Hey, I’ll have a triple iced mocha. And can you tell me if Gillymack is still working here?”
The smile on her face slipped, but she recovered fast. “Not a problem, I’ll have that for you in a jiffy. And yes, he’s working the morning shift. He’ll be here tomorrow.”
I hesitated, then said, “He’s quite a handful, isn’t he?”
The smile slipped again, but she just nodded and turned back to pull the shots for my mocha. Apparently Gillymack had been up to his usual tricks, and had managed to stir up more than just the lattes he made. She handed me my mocha and I paid her, adding a generous tip. Even though Gillymack wasn’t a close friend, I felt guilty for bringing her mood down.
As I turned away, she called after me, “If you need to talk to him tonight, I know where he’s staying. He’s out at Suicide Pier, living in one of the small houseboats you can rent. Slip 15. Blue boat, white trim.”
I glanced over my shoulder, smiling. “Thanks. I do have a few questions for him.”
I returned to my car. Deciding that I might as well stop at the pier first—it was closer than Garret’s place—I fastened my seatbelt. After I took a long pull on the mocha, I started the ignition and eased out of the lot, back onto the road.
THERE WERE PIERS on all sides of Bedlam Island, but Suicide Pier was off to the eastern side of the island, not far from the town’s center, in the East Cove Marina. Contrary to its name, Suicide Pier was actually a pretty place.
Fern Danvers had been a caricature of the old glamour girls of the big screen. A very lazy witch who mostly cared about seeing her name in the papers, she had staged one last attempt to convince her straying husband to stay with her. He had run off with an artist—a werewolf.
Unfortunately for Fern, her plans to stage a fake suicide proved fatal. As she “slipped” and fell into the water, her scarf caught on one of the pier’s pilings and she actually ended up drowning. The pier had been stuck with the name for sixty years and sometimes people said they could see Fern’s ghost at the end of the pier, waiting for someone to come save her.
Suicide Pier was part of the East Cove Marina—a city-owned marina that rented out slips for boats, including houseboats. While the ferry landed at the Ice Cove, along the northeastern part of the island, and shipping docked over at Sunset Cove, East Cove Marina was for noncommercial use. Besides slips for boats and houseboats, there were boat launches, kayak rentals, and a roped-off enclosure for swimming well away from the water traffic.
I found Suicide Pier and strolled down the wooden path until I was almost at the end. Finally, in the tangle of houseboats, I saw Slip 15 ahead. Sure enough, the boat moored at the dock was blue with white trim. It was a tidy little boat, looking just big enough for one person to live in. I squinted, shading my eyes, but it was impossible to tell if Gillymack was home from the dock.
The houseboat was cute, looking very much like a long rectangular box. The back end was two stories, so he probably had a loft up there, and a tall window opened out onto the rest of the roof to patio chairs and table. The houseboat wasn’t level with the walkway. The tide was coming in, but it wouldn’t be at full strength for a number of hours yet. A metal ladder was fastened to the side of the dock, hanging down far enough to reach the boat at low tide.
I grimaced. I didn’t care for ladders, but it was the only way I was going to get down on that boat. I took hold of the handles, testing it to make certain it was firmly attached to the pilings, then cautiously lowered my foot onto the first rung. As I began my way down, I heard a voice coming from below.
“Lovely sight, Maddy!”
Gillymack. He was looking right up my dress.
“Keep your eyes to yourself, dude. Either I come down or you come up.”
“Oh, come on down. I’ll show you my new digs.” He sounded a little too jovial. I had a feeling he’d been nipping at a bottle of something.
I grunted, working my way down the rungs. If I thought he was sober, I would have insisted he climb up to meet me on the walkway, but I didn’t want to be responsible for him falling into the water. Granted, he could shift into his merfolk form, but I wasn’t sure how easy it was when he was drunk. I finally reached the houseboat and, avoiding his all-too-eager helping hands, I landed on the edge of the boat without a problem.
The tide smelled of brine and decay and I wrinkled my nose. I appreciated the scent when I wasn’t right next to it, but here it was strong and I smelled dead fish. Wondering if that had something to do with Gillymack, or it was just some poor fish that had gone belly up in the harbor, I turned around.
He was tall—all of the merfolk were tall when in human form—and lean, with a swimmer’s body. His hair was long, blond, and wavy, and his face clean-shaven. None of the mermen ever grew beards. I didn’t even know if they had facial hair at all. His eyes were piercing blue, and his smile, infectious. It was easy to see how they convinced humans to join in their fun, but they were notorious about spreading STDs—brine-itch, fishrot, and kelprash were the most common.
“Hey, Maddy doll, what are you doing here?” He made it sound sexy. Like an invitation. But Gillymack didn’t have a thing for me. He was that way with all women. Merfolk had voracious sexual appetites and were the unsavory waterborne counterparts to satyrs. But satyrs were more fun. At least they paid attention to their partners’ needs.
“I have a few questions for you.” I slid around behind him, keeping out of reach. Gillymack wasn’t above getting grabby.
“How about if I give you some answers?” He swung in toward me, closing the distance between us. Granted, there wasn’t far to go on this boat, but he was getting too up close and personal. I reached out and firmly put my hand against his chest.
“Hold on there, dude. I’m not here to play. I need some information.”
He tilted his head, winking. “You need lessons? I can give you lessons.” He was close enough that I could smell the beer on his breath. It was overpowering. Merfolk had a love for alcohol, but very little tolerance for it. A few beers and they were weaving around drunk. I could have drunk him under the table and probably into the grave.
“Gillymack, I swear, you back up a step or I’ll smack you a good one and that’s not an innuendo. Listen to me, it’s important. I need to pick your brain.”
With a sigh, he backed off. “You’re no fun. I’d love to take you for a spin, girl. You’ve got the best boobs.” He was staring at my chest.
While my breasts were big—a G cup—I wasn’t interested in what Gillymack wanted right now. I peered into the houseboat. It looked like a pigsty. He probably hadn’t cleaned up in weeks. Deciding against going in, I shoved him into one of the chairs on the deck of the boat and sat in the other that was far enough away that he wouldn’t be able to paw at me. He sneezed, then wiped his nose on his arm.
“All right, all right. What do you want?”
“What I want is to ask you about King Leonal. Do you remember when the Strand was owned by your people?”
Gillymack’s eyes widened. “Oh, yeah. I remember some kickass parties there. We had a high old time until the city council shut us down. That was when Bedlam was starting to expand.”
I tried to think about how to phrase my next question. “Do you think that if somebody in the Meré community was still upset about the sale of the Strand, they might attack Sandy? Somebody burned down her restaurant the other day. And they hid a ghost snail in her van.”
Gillymack’s expression went from lecherous to startled. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
“No. I wish I was. She’s in a coma right now.”
“Holy Mother of Pearl. I had no idea.” Now upset, he leaned forward, shaking his head. “I’m sorry. I know you two are BFFs. Listen, you know that I got kicked out of Ocana a few years back.” He paused as I looked confused.
“Ocana? Is that the name of your pod?”
Blinking, Gillymack laughed. “Pod? I’m not a selkie. Ocana is the merfolk city.”
I blinked. “I know, but I thought merfolk also lived in pods like selkies.”
“Nah. The selkies don’t actually have a home base under the water, but we do. While there are a number of merfolk cities throughout the oceans, most of them are bigger than Ocana, but size doesn’t always matter.”
That was also news to me. I realized that there was a whole lot about the Pretcom that I didn’t know, but then again, humans weren’t always up on the goings-on of all their peoples, either. “So, you can’t go back to your city?”
“Right. I mostly hang out in the waters around here, and I finally rented myself a land-pad, as you can see. The job at Bouncing Goats is pretty dope and I like having something to do, even though you wouldn’t think so. So if you’re thinking I might have done it, lose that thought immediately.”
“I don’t believe you did this, Gillymack. You’re many things, but you’re no killer. And yeah, I know that you are at odds with your people.” I took a slow breath. “While I know you can’t go back home, is there any way you could find out anything about any merfolk in town? We don’t keep detailed records on who’s living here in Bedlam, except for vamps. I figure that whoever did this has to have some connection to the town, or they wouldn’t have known that Sandy was building a restaurant on the Strand.”
He shivered, then, and I had never seen Gillymack afraid of anything, but right at this moment, he looked fearful. “I dunno, Mad. But I’ll try. My people have long memories, though, including against our own. If I find out anything, I’ll let you know, but please don’t tell anyone where you got the information or I could be fish bait. But I’ll nose around and see if I can find out anything. Give me your digits and I’ll ring you when I know anything.”
I blinked. Gillymack agreeing to help was more than I expected. I gave him my phone number. “Do not make obscene phone calls to me, get it?”
“Yeah, I get it.” He winked at me, a faint smile returning to his lips. “But if you’d give me a chance, I think you’d come back for seconds.”
“If I gave you a chance, I’d have to go in for meds. And my boyfriend would decide to test just how red your blood is. You know he’s a vampire.” With a snort, I turned back to the ladder. “And Gillymack, don’t stare up my dress as I climb back up, all right? It’s rude.”
He shrugged, but waved as I headed back to the ladder and began to climb up to the walkway. He really wasn’t a bad lout, for a horny merman.
THE DRIVE TO Garret’s house took me toward the northwest side of the island. Garret James lived in the seedy section of Bedlam, where some of the shadier members of the Pretcom lived. Every small town has its darker side, and we were no exception. Walking in the neighborhood in the Balefrost section could result in getting mugged or worse. While most violent crime rates were low, occasionally we’d get a scumbag move into town, and there wasn’t much that could be done about it until they committed a crime. But violence—other than the drunken bar brawl—was met with swift and harsh punishment.
As I eased into the parking spot in front of his house, I stared up at the shack that Garret called home. Or at least, it appeared to be a shack. He had a strong glamour spell covering the facade of his house. From the street, it looked weathered and falling apart, with broken siding and a patchy roof. But once you crossed through the veil, it was well tended and tidy.
Garret lived next to a graveyard and the area was thick with ghosts, so I tended to narrow my focus. Sometimes when ghosts realized a witch was around, they got pushy about trying to communicate and it was hard to filter them out. So I cloaked my energy so they couldn’t sense me. As I dashed up the two flights of steep stone steps, the grunge began to fade and, as I passed through the waves of illusion, the house came into full view. It was really a prim cottage with flowers surrounding it, and a well-tended lawn, and now the vibe was cozy and welcoming.
I knocked on the screen door and, waiting, stared out over the yard, arms folded. A moment later, the door opened and I turned. Garret stood there. He had dark skin—a deep brown—and long silver hair caught up in dreads. His eyes were a welcoming hazel, and they were so clear you could almost see yourself in their reflection. Garret moved with a fluid grace that belied his snakeshifter heritage. He was from the Blue Diamond Copperhead clan.
“Maddy! What a surprise, come on in.” He sounded truly happy to see me. We had kept in touch since he had helped me with a magical problem a few months back, but we hadn’t had a chance to talk in the past few weeks. He came over to dinner now and then, and Aegis and I had met him for coffee. He was uncomfortable around vampires, though polite, so we avoided visiting his house as a couple.
“Garret, I’m so glad you’re home. I need your advice.”
He opened the door and ushered me in, offering me a lemonade. I accepted and sat down on the sofa in the small, tidy living room that also served as his magical space. His workbench was covered with jars containing herbs and roots, and several large books were stacked precariously on the edge of the bench.
“What can I do for you?”
“You can come over for dinner soon, for one thing. But I do have a serious problem. Sandy’s been attacked and I think the Meré are behind it.” I told him everything that had happened. “I think that somebody in the merfolk community is angry because she built a restaurant on the Strand, which they used to own.”
He sat in a rocking chair opposite me, and crossed his right leg over his left. He was a trim man, and he was wearing form-fitting jeans and a tank top, his muscles gleaming under the diffused light coming through the windows.
“The Meré are nothing to mess around with. They’re dangerous and treacherous in a way few other Pretcom are. I wouldn’t trust them even if they gave me their word of honor on their life. Seriously, they’re crafty and cunning and out for themselves.”
“You don’t have any strong opinions on them, do you?” I laughed, but then my humor faded. “I may have made a mistake. I stopped by Gillymack’s to ask him about this.”
“Oh good gods. Well, I hope for your sake he’s too drunk to start spreading rumors. Listen, as far as the herbs go, I can help you. I may not have them, but I can probably find them. Give me the list.”
I handed him the list that Jordan had given me. He carried it over to his workbench and began going through his jars, sorting out a few. Then he ran his finger over his reference books, stopping at one in particular, which he pulled off the shelf. He set the massive book on the bench and began flipping through it, finally tapping a page in particular.
“All right, I have seven of the twelve herbs needed, and I can get my hands on four of the ones that have to be fresh—I know where they grow and I can swim and dive without too much of a problem. But Maddy—getting the last one will be extremely difficult.” He looked up at me with a bleak expression.
“Why?”
“Because thistlestar has to be absolutely fresh for it to work. And the one place I know where to harvest it is in the garden of a siren I know. Getting her to agree to part with it isn’t going to be easy, because she hates me with a passion.”
I stared at him. “Wonderful. Just the news I need. I take it you happen to know her?”
He grimaced. “Yeah. I’m the only man to ever walk away from her willingly. She’s never forgiven me for breaking it off. I’m afraid that I’m more of a liability than an asset when it comes to this one.”
I groaned, leaning back against the cushion. “Then we’d better hope that Gillymack knows her too, and will be willing to help me.”
“You’re out of luck there,” Garret said. “Sirens and merfolk are mortal enemies.”
And with that piece of bad news, he began to bag up the rest of the herbs.