Phony Potions

Chapter 4

The distance between the town we left and the next inhabited one was several days' journey. Since we hadn't had time to resupply, this was inconvenient and darkened our moods. We couldn't go back the other way. The towns were huddled close together and I had left a string of successful sales in my wake. Backtracking would be the same as politely requesting to be imprisoned for impersonating a sorcerer's Assistant the second a town guard saw us.

And that wasn't even the worst case scenario. At least huddled safely in a prison I wouldn't fall victim to a mob's characteristically brutal vigilante justice. I wouldn't be strung up. I would avoid the indignity of execution by someone who hardly knew how to handle an axe and would need a few thwacks to kill me. That's what my customers had threatened in the past, and I didn't care to test them.

In contrast, the official Centralized Magical Arcanacracy's penalty for impersonating a sorcerer's Assistant was two weeks in a dungeon, a hefty fine and a minor curse for a month. I knew this. I'd been caught several times. The curses had always been annoying but tolerable. I'd go with the ruling sorcerers' justice over that of my own ungifted people any day.

So there was no way to make it to a comfortable town before sunset. This hopelessness slowed our pace. I had been up all day. So had Mallow. Time stretched out; minutes became miserable molasses strands spent trudging past unremarkable trees. The constant drum of raindrops against leaves lulled me into a sleepy mood. I yearned to lie down and rest. I couldn't. Wasting daylight was foolish, especially when this far out from town.

The bleary orange sun broke through the clouds as it was setting. The rain relented. Mallow began to celebrate. I pointed out that the sun was setting. The moon would do nothing to dry the soaked clothes she wore. Mallow cursed.

We searched for a good place to park the carriage and sleep for the night. After about half an hour, the sky was a swirl of purple, red, and orange. The faint glow of Mallow's skin made the rest of the evening world dimmer. Thankfully, unlike humans, Moon Giants see well in the dark. She alone spied a set of thick, tall, and spaced apart trees that would do for our camp.

By the time we had unhitched the horses and moved the carriage behind the tree line, the moon was heavy overhead. Mosquitoes, encouraged by the humidity of the post-rain night, were swarming. They avoided Mallow for the most part, her liquid silver-like blood repellent to them. They adored me. My long sleeves meant they favored my face. I was an acne-scarred youth for all the red spots and splotches on my cheeks. As I sat slapping away the insects, I tried to start a nice, smoky fire to repel them. The wood in the area was all soggy from the rain.

I fetched my small supply of dry firewood from the carriage. I kept a few logs and sticks for situations like this even though space was limited in the carriage. Using the precious timber, I managed to ignite a fragile flame. I laid the rain soaked logs around it to dry. I hoped they'd be ready for Mallow to feed into the fire later tonight if she got cold. The smoke would help with the bugs. Mallow ran over, laughing and trying to catch her breath.

"Gourd is so funny. You should have seen her spot this squirrel. It was trying to dig something out of the ground, some seeds I think, and Gourd was like, hey, that's mine buddy— Whoa, Dad, you let them bite you all over today."

I self-consciously touched my face, thankful I didn't have a performance tomorrow.

"I didn't so much let them as I ran out of peppermint oil and the fire's not smoking enough to drive back the bugs." I explained. That old cripple was getting his revenge, one inconvenience at a time. "I think I'll sleep in the carriage, the blankets still have the usual pest repellents scattered in them, so it'll prevent me from getting more eaten up then I am right now."