If it dropped to below the mid-point, then they’d be exposed, and that would put them in danger. Although Wilder was much more skilled than the newbie Rogue Riders, they outnumbered him, and Sophia assumed that the demon dragonriders didn’t fight fair. They would undoubtedly stab one of their own in the back without a second thought. The most despicable part of that for Sophia was that all dragonriders were supposed to be part of the same brotherhood.
Sophia’s business on Roya Lane brought her to the Rose Apothecary. While she’d been discovering what the Rogue Riders were up to, she’d gotten a message from the potions expert. Bep gave her what sounded like good news. However, she reasoned that she might be reading into it, hopeful for a solution to fix fairy godmother college. All the message from the no-nonsense shop owner said was: If you want information on your toxic sludge problem, see me at the Rose Apothecary.
The potions shop smelled strongly of bath soaps when Sophia entered, which made her nose itch from the many different aromas vying for her olfactory center. She sneezed, covering her mouth and nose. Her eyes watered from a floral scent that smelled like something that would make a bee go insane.
“Don’t bring a cold in here,” Bep said matter-of-factly, her back to Sophia as she molded something sparkly with her hands in the corner.
“I’m not sick,” Sophia argued. “It’s whatever you have on display all around.” She glanced at the various shelves that had been restocked with shiny balls of gritty material, about the size of baseballs. There were hundreds in all different colors. Some sparkled and others dull, but still interesting with swirling colors and depths of patterns.
“What is all this?” Sophia dared to lean over and smell one of the balls. Its scent was reminiscent of salt and milk with an undertone of something sweet that reminded her of her childhood for some strange reason she couldn’t pinpoint.
“Those are bath bombs.” Bep turned and brandished a white ball that glimmered with bright bits of glitter.
“Bath bombs?” Sophia questioned in disbelief. “Why is the famous potions expert making bath bombs? That seems a bit beneath your skillset.”
Bep harrumphed at her and shook her head. “That’s what’s wrong with people.” She hurried by Sophia and set the newly made bath bomb on a shelf, next to a row of them.
“What is it that’s wrong with people?” Sophia asked after a long moment. She’d expected that Bep would continue and explain herself, but she didn’t.
“You people think that because something is simple, it isn’t complex.” Bep stood back to look at the display of shimmering bath bombs.
Sophia blinked at her for a moment. “I’m not sure where to start with that statement. Why is it that you refer to it as ‘you people,’ like you’re not one of us? And by definition, simple things aren’t complex or vice versa.”
“You people are different than me because you rarely use your common sense paired with your refined expertise.”
Sophia drew in a breath and refrained from rolling her eyes. “Again, I feel like we’re playing the oxymoron game.”
“You’re allowed to feel however you like,” Bep imparted. “The only morons are the ones whose cauldrons are too full for any more pig’s hearts or rabbit’s feet and therefore overflow.”
“Again, I’m speechless,” Sophia muttered. “Can we get onto why you’re making bath bombs? Or, more importantly, the information on the gunk messing with fairy godmother college?”
“First the bath bombs,” Bep demanded with authority.
Although Sophia wanted to get to the solution for Happily Ever After College, she knew that enduring the explanation about the bath bombs was important.
Very stoically, Bep stood in front of one of the displays and appraised them appreciatively. “There’s a proverb that goes, ‘Before enlightenment, chop wood, carry water. After enlightenment, chop wood, carry water.’ Are you following me?”
“You aren’t going anywhere as far as I can tell,” Sophia joked and pretended to look around like she was supposed to be following a path.
Bep sighed dramatically. “If you joke, then you miss the reason. My point is that many go to the waterfalls looking for enlightenment. They go on walkabouts. They search and come up short. If by some strange stroke of luck they find it, then they think they’re done. The gifts are found in the mundane. They’re found when you wash the dishes or sweep the floors, make the bed. That’s when the little voices come through.”
Sophia glanced at Bep sideways with a curious expression on her face. “What do your voices say?”
Thankfully realizing that she was teasing, Bep grinned slightly. “They say all sorts of things. Mostly they tell me that I’m never too good for the small chores. We don’t suddenly get too good to wash our butts if you know what I mean.”
Sophia nodded. “I think I do. I’ll always make that chore all mine.”
“My point is that I make the bath bombs in my spare time, the offseason to fill the store because I’m never too good for the small things,” Bep explained thoughtfully. “They return me to the mundane. The small tasks that give my mind the ability to rest up for the more complex ones to come. That’s where I come to the reason that you’ve joined me.”
Sophia turned to her. “Yes, the fix to fairy godmother college? Do you have the remedy?”
Bep shook her head. “Not yet.”
Sophia deflated a little, wishing for better news.
The woman’s eyes brightened as she held up a single finger triumphantly into the air. “But I know what you shall need for me to make it.”
“Oh, well that’s something.” Sophia stepped forward, hopeful.
“Don’t get so confident yet,” Bep said, a warning in her voice.
Sophia shrank back an inch and remembered herself. “I would never.”
“To obtain the ingredient I need to create the potion that will fix fairy godmother college, you’ll have to endure many challenges.”
Sophia nodded. “Welcome to Thursday.”
“You’ll need to find a specific thistle that only grows in a certain area,” Bep went on.
“Okay, so far, that’s pretty much status quo,” Sophia was almost bored.
“You’ll have to pick it out of a bounty that will confuse matters greatly,” Bep continued.
“I wondered when you were going to throw this curveball.”
Bep shot her a mischievous glare. “You can’t simply pick the flower.”
“I have to do it with my teeth?” Sophia guessed.
Bep shook her head. “No, it has to be picked simultaneously by the hands of two married people. Two people joined by the bonds of holy matrimony.”
Sophia sighed and stomped slightly. “Seriously, can I not blast down an army with fire by my dragon’s mouth and battle a deranged villain with my sword instead?”
Bep trotted off toward the back of the shop. “I’m afraid not. The hardest tasks are usually the easiest. You can sweep the floor to find your shattered heart. Or chop the wood to realize how much your demons are crying for your help. It’s when you’re in the belly of the beast that you forget the skeleton in your closet. They come alive when you’re asleep. When you’re folding the clothes. When you dust the blinds. When you’re preparing for battle.”