As her face went slack at the news, I explained how to better work the plant. Then we talked about when she’d harvested, how, and how much of the dried plant she had on hand.
“It’ll have to do for now. Get it to the sickest people you know. Don’t worry about using rainwater for this batch. Just use normal water. You should have everything else in your garden. Start with small batches and see if they work. Once you get the hang of it, use that cauldron. Keep them from dying.”
“But this recipe…” She studied it in disbelief. “It’s so simple.”
“Using everlass is always mostly simple. It’s how you treat the everlass that determines what results you’ll yield.” I stood and stepped away. “Another thing…do you have anything that can be used as fuel? I need to make a different sort of very dangerous elixir for the few who are barely hanging on. No one seems to have a proper fire around here, but you look like you have a couple pennies to rub together. Nyfain can ensure you are compensated…however that happens. I’m sure he has gold or wood or something, I don’t know. Go cut some down during the day from the Forbidden Wood. There’s plenty there. I know a birch that needs to go…”
“Who are you?” Maryanne said with wonder.
“Someone without any fucks to give.” I pointed at her. “Fuel?”
“Y-yes.”
“Good. Get it going. You have someone down the lane at death’s door.” I walked out through the front door and waited for Dabnye. “Show me how to get to the council. This shit show has gone on long enough.” They would be convening because Nyfain was here, and I had some choice words for them.
We stopped in quite a few houses on the way so I could assess the damage. The shanties were clearly the hardest hit, their lack of good diet and probably hard labor taking a toll. As we neared the center of town, their market a sprawling affair within wrought-iron gating, things turned a corner. People were up and moving around for the most part, shaking off the worst effects of the sickness. They’d gotten the nulling elixir.
It hadn’t helped everyone the same, of course, the worst of them only rebounding a little. They’d need more doses and quicker, and it didn’t seem like they’d be producing it themselves. This village was apparently relying on me to supply everyone.
The council convened in a small white building with a spire and carefully cultivated grounds. A little play structure existed for well-fed and clothed children, who played with smiles on their faces and not a care in the world. Quite the difference from the other side of the village. Or from my entire village.
Dabnye stayed very close to me, pulling gazes to her like bees to bright flowers. I marched through the village center, rage pumping through me, power barely kept at bay. The crowd parted, confused, then scowled at Dabnye.
“Excuse me, but what is the meaning of this?”
A man with a large mustache and dark circles under his eyes stopped in front of me. Clearly he’d gotten some of the nulling elixir. The signs of weakness showed, but he was bouncing back. For now.
“What is the meaning of what?” I stopped for a moment, topping his height by a few inches and beating his scowl from experience.
“Well…” He chuckled softly, trying to hide his sudden wariness. “This little girl looks like she is far from home. Is she troubling you?”
“No.”
He waited for more. I didn’t provide it.
“Yes… Well, you see, the thing is, we don’t allow beggars—”
I slapped him in the dick. Not too hard—just enough to bend him over and quickly release his breath. I could’ve gone for the face, but that wasn’t unique enough. I wanted him to remember me. Now he would.
“She’s not begging,” I told him in a firm tone, loud enough to carry. “She is looking for the nulling elixir that is her due. And I am wondering why she has not gotten it. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” I grabbed him by the shoulders and bodily moved him out of the way, a little rougher than was absolutely necessary.
Surprised gasps sounded from the quickly gathering crowd, and I sure hoped it was because of my violence and not because they could feel my power. Still, I wasn’t totally naïve—I’d firmed up my place in the rumor mill. Oh well. A reckoning with the demon king was inevitable anyway, right? What was the difference if he came sooner or later?
I cranked the bronze handle in the wide double doors and shoved them open, walking through. A little kitchen sat off to one side with two women busy preparing pots of water and tea sets. How quaint. On the other side of a half wall, eight men and women sat in couches or chairs, facing Nyfain, who sat seemingly relaxed in a seat a few paces before a stage. Various musical instruments waited on the stage, and I assumed this was a place for dances or concerts or the goddess knew what. We didn’t have anything like it in my village.