Chapter 6: Ishtar's Apothecary

It wasn't until they were driving back through a familiar part of town, the same of which Jolene had visited earlier that day, when she realized she had forgotten all of her things back at Maeve's house. Her purchases from the stores—which had consisted of clothes for both she and Clare, and a few groceries—had all been abandoned on the collapsing deck. She'd make a point of going back to retrieve them later, just as soon as she figured out how this situation with Maeve's leg would play out. So far, everything seemed to have slowed to a calm.

"So what does Theresa do exactly?" Jolene asked Clare, who had remained her usual quiet self except for when she wasn't bothering Maeve with questions on her well-being.

"She's a purifier," said Clare slowly. "She spends her time making all kinds of salves and tonics."

Jolene never would have thought to look for such a privilege in a Sokolsky, but then, she'd never known Theresa well to begin with. "Not selling them I hope," she added with trouble.

Clare breathed a laugh. "Of course not. I think that'd draw a bit too much attention, even here in Benton. She just sells a bunch of that herbal stuff at the apothecary. I like the lavender oil actually."

"She's a nut," Maeve spoke out from the back, her eyes still closed in rest as she hugged tight to the seat. "She's one of those believers of the existence of The Once Thirteen, and she believes in The Last Vestiges too."

It had been a while, probably not since elementary, had Jolene heard word about either of those tales. They were children's stories—well stories for the privileged anyway—and Doris Brock had never missed an opportunity to read them to her daughter before tucking her into bed at night. They weren't all bad though. Some of those accounts, fabricated or otherwise, had fed Jolene's young imagination with a traitorous amount of abandon for reality. She often wished she had been in faraway lands in distant times, having fantastic adventures with the thirteen originals of craft, instead of wasting her days taking notes down from an old chalkboard. That's all they had turned out to be in the end though, a fantasy for children, and also a tool for her mother to explain to her why they could make water dance out of the kitchen faucet.

"You don't hold much stock in those stories, huh?" said Clare, her eyes remaining before her as she made a turn down the street.

"Not so much, no," said Maeve. "I'm sure our magic came from someone, and that it wasn't wished into existence or anything like that. But thirteen all powerful beings milling around the earth for an untold number of years, that then left a bunch of their treasured crap behind so that their spirits would remain until those in need would have use for them once again? That's a funny story...a fake story."

"Well, don't demean them too much. I'm pretty sure my mom believes that crap exists too," said Jolene coarsely.

"It's not just that," Maeve quickly added, her eyes opening as she tried to straighten up as best as she could in her seat. "She's also a vegan."

Jo turned around in her seat, looking over her shoulder at Maeve in bewilderment. "So what, all vegans are nuts now?"

"Yes," Maeve groused. "She sure wouldn't be welcomed around my family."

"Maeve, your dad's eaten fried alligator, and would have fed it to us too if your mom hadn't have told us," Jolene retorted. Honestly, she couldn't recall a time when dinner had not ended in a complete disaster at the Donohues, whether it be from the meal or the company.

"There's almost nothing my dad won't eat, but that's not the point. Normal people eat meat," she said curtly, ending her opinion with a firm nod.

Jolene shook her head, but said nothing more for fear of being seen as hypocritical. Maeve's opinion of one Sokolsky wasn't so different from her own in another, and she saw no need to bring that up right now. They neared the part of town by the dancing fountain, and Ishtar's Apothecary was just a few steps away. Clare pulled the car into the back gravel lot behind the string of buildings, taking an empty space with plenty of room for Maeve to hop out from the vehicle.

"I'll go knock on the back door, let Theresa know of our situation," said Clare before exiting the car. "Help Maeve out, I'll be back in two shakes."

Maeve let out a snort as she went. "Two shakes? She's the only person our age I know who still says that."

Jolene hummed a noise, though she found Clare's little expression to be more sweet than embarrassing. "Probably something she picked up from Billy."

"Probably," said Maeve.

Pulling on the handle of the door, Jolene got out from the car and went around to the other side to help Maeve. The first thing her attention sought out was the injured leg with the sweater tied tight around its swelled girth. "How's that feeling?"

"Umm, it's not. It's gone completely numb," said Maeve as she scooted forward on the seat with her bum, letting her legs dangle out for a moment. "And it's really heavy."

Jolene knelt down at the car, supporting Maeve's leg behind the knee as she gave it a trial lift with her hands. She was surprised to find it was solid like a stone, and that she had to exert real strength to lift it up straight. "Holy cow, you're not kidding," she said astounded as she carefully lowered the limb back down again. "How long has it been like that?"

"Since we left my house. I guess Clare was right, I really need someone with our kind of knowledge to treat it," said Maeve tiredly. She held out her arm and Jolene stood to help her out from the car.

Jolene reached behind them with her unoccupied hand, shutting the door quickly, then slowly started to lead Maeve towards the back door of the apothecary. They progressed with slow steps, an inch at a time it seemed to Jolene. Maeve never complained or voiced her discomfort, but the frustration was there on her face.

Then suddenly, when they had almost forgotten, Clare returned from inside the back entrance. She toed the wooden stop under the door, leaving the way opened for them, and for her as well as she jogged over to them with a smile. "Theresa's agreed to help. You guys go on inside, I'll go get the little nuisance from the trunk."

"Oh thank God," groaned Maeve.

Jolene aided her with an adjusting of her shoulder, while she looked to Clare with appreciation. "We'll see you inside."

Clare nodded, and with an urgency in her step, set off towards her car.

Summoning what strength she had left that afternoon, Jo aided Maeve the rest of the way, passed the threshold of the door and into the tiny back hall of the shop. The space was dim and narrow, the walls and floors all finished in wood like a log cabin, and there was a faint light ahead at the end of the hall that lead to the front of the apothecary. They went forward towards it.

Nose scrunching, Jolene almost lost her breath to the pungent smell of oils and plants that occupied the room. Maeve was craning her neck beside her, taking in the sights of the store and wearing a withering look of revulsion. Dried herbs were hanging off from the ceiling beams like the canopy of a forest, and even more glass jars filled with crushed plants and colorful powders made home on the endless walls of shelves. An apothecary cabinet took up the entire space of the back wall behind the wooden counter, tiny drawers with brass handles were all labeled with a different item of stock in elegant black lettering. Jolene couldn't remember ever seeing so many things at once that she had never known existed or couldn't pronounce the name of.

"Hello," said an unfamiliar feminine voice.

A head of umber colored hair popped up from behind the counter. Though Jolene hadn't seen her in years, she had the same pale face and glassy blue eyes as her brother that made Jo recognize her as Theresa Sokolsky. She wore a soft pastel pink dress, with a thick gossamer scarf tied around her neck the color of sunflowers. The chunky beaded bracelets that decorated both of her arms jangled as she walked out into the middle of the room. She gaped at them with a dreamy glint in her eyes, her freckled nose turned up in the air as she sniffed deeply.

"You have a wound that festers," Theresa said delicately. "May I have a look?"

Jolene looked to Maeve as her clutch strengthened on her shoulder, nearly causing Jo to yelp in protest. "Er—knock yourself out."

"Such an odd expression," Theresa muttered as she got down to the floor. She sat on her feet, and looked with apt interest at Maeve's elephant leg concealed by Clare's sweatshirt. With gentle hands, she undid the knot and let the garment fall to the ground to observe the damage beneath. Despite the heady sweet scent of the shop, the smell from the oozing wounds hit them immediately, like soiled sardines, and Jolene pinched her eyes shut while Maeve choked on a gag. Theresa made no noise or any indication that she was bothered, instead her head leaned forward further to investigate until she was almost nose to leg with Maeve's injury.

"How did you upset that creature so?" said Theresa as she prodded the skin on the leg until it blanched. "Pukwudgies are shy, they have a quiet disposition when coming in to contact with humans."

Maeve puffed with anger, her nostrils flaring like a bull. "I doubt it. That thing attacked us."

"What were you doing before it attacked you?"

"We tried luring it out with a douse of hose water," said Maeve proudly.

"Well there you have it, Pukwudgies fear water. Such an attack would cause enough fright to spur a retaliation."

Maeve tossed Jolene a most unimpressed look. "Great plan Morgana."

"Hey, I didn't know," Jolene tried to defend, even though she was left feeling foolish in front of Theresa. "I wasn't the one who had it locked in a shed."

"Oh, they hate confinement even more," Theresa cried.

Maeve's neck turned bright red, and she discreetly tried to withdraw from Jolene's grasp, only nearly forgetting she needed the support when she almost stumbled into one of the shelves. While both shared equal blame for the incident, their mistakes continued to further illustrate how little they knew of their world. It was a disheartening discovery, one that bothered Jo more than she thought it ever would.

"I'm back," Clare declared, stepping inside from the hallway with the trash bag tucked in her arms.

"Poor thing!" Theresa rose from the ground in a split second and rushed at Clare. Her target was the prickly bundle, and she snatched it up with considerate demand, leaving Clare wide-eyed and pale. "Come here sweet Wudgie," She cooed.

Theresa tore at the tight knot until the sound of pulling plastic snapped loudly in the room. The Pukwudgie tumbled forward into her secure embrace, it's rather large and bulbous nose buried away inside her scarf. "Now isn't he precious, like a shrunken old man," trilled Theresa.

"He's an ugly troll," Maeve retorted.

Jolene couldn't help but agree. The Pukwudgie's skin was a slate blue, and his mane of dark quills started from a widow's peak on his wrinkled forehead and down his back. His eyes were yellow, much like the nails on his pudgy fingers, and he wore brown burlap pants over stitched leather shoes. He glowered over Theresa's shoulder at Maeve, two thick eyebrows drawn in to a furrow.

"You say such mean things, and then you wonder about the state of your leg," said Theresa. She continued to run her hand down the smooth part of the quills, making the Pukwudgie shiver and growl in delight.

"What should I do with these?" said Clare, holding up a small recurve bow and a woven quiver that had clattered to the ground unnoticed. The few arrows that were left looked like they had been whittled by hand.

"Keep them close, he'll want those back," said Theresa. The Pukwudgie wore a coveted look for his misplaced effects, stretching out his hands while Theresa walked over to the shop front to lock the door and turn the sign to 'closed'. "We'll head downstairs. My assistant can help."

"You have an assistant?" said Jolene.

"Can't run an apothecary without one, silly," she said with a laugh. "Though she's more of an apprentice really, and she's making fantastic progress."

Quickly, they followed Theresa under the trapdoor that had been concealed behind the counter, and under a purple and pink curlicue rug. She led at the front down the steep stairs, Clare going next, and then Maeve in between her and Jolene. The space was too narrow to allow Maeve to cling beside Jolene, instead they had to watch her carefully leap behind Clare with her arms braced forward.

"Get the door behind us would you," Theresa called to Jolene since she was the last to enter the passage.

Jolene pulled on the rope handle of the hatch, bringing it down with a loud thud and leaving them in momentary darkness. A dim light began to grow within seconds, small mason jars lining the ledge on the left wall glowing with liquids of all the colors under the sun. As the group edged their way down, their shadows were casted along the walls, and Jolene tried to suppress her excitement as she imagined the smile that would spread over her mother's face if she could see this place.

"What are they?" Jolene asked. "The lights in the jars?"

"It's Lucerna's Tears. A simple brew, one of the first I learned," said Theresa. "It's easy for beginners because it's not very powerful. I have to make a new batch every new moon."

Jolene didn't care if Theresa thought it was of minor applause. She thought it was beautiful, and a true testament of someone with real skill in her craft.

They reach the bottom of the steps, a good nine feet below the shop where they had started. It was a cold and musty room they ended up, three walls of solid grey stone and a dirt floor. Jolene and her friends stood in confusion at the space, and Theresa spent a laugh at their expense.

"Not what you were expecting? Don't worry, this isn't my work space." She shifted the Pukwudgie around in her arm enough to be able to lean forward at the wall before them. Her pink lips formed a pucker, and she planted them firmly against the rock surface, leaving a wet smack as she pulled away. What had begun as an odd sight changed quickly for Jolene and her friends, as they watched the wall slowly crumble into a pile of gravel down at their feet. The space opened up in to a doorway large enough for them to walk through in single file.

"It's kissing stone," Theresa explained. "Useful as a security measure, as it will only open to the touch of a woman's lips. Drives my brother crazy whenever he wants to come down here."

"I need to get some of that," said Maeve, seeming impressed.

"Let's just worry about that leg first," said Theresa. "C'mon, this way."

Mindful of the gravel on the ground, they all took their turn stepping through the new doorway, with Jolene being the last to go through. Behind her, the entryway began to mend itself, the small stones collectively forming the stone barrier once again. Jolene let out a small sound of appreciation for the magic, her eyes not able to detect a trace of imperfect in the smooth wall of rock behind her. It was definitely a curious place to be.

Theresa's workspace in the basement was not so different from the upstairs apothecary, though there were no windows and there were a good deal more of books and phials on the wooden shelves. The counter space was covered in bubbling pots atop of hotplates, overturned jars, and a pestle and mortar made of black granite. Jolene couldn't escape the burnt scent in the room, and after a full sweep with her eyes, she thought it looked like a medieval chemist's dream.

"Mallory, do you have things set up?" said Theresa, addressing her apprentice seated on a stool in the room.

Unlike the fair owner of Ishtar's, Theresa's apprentice was a dusky beauty with tight curly caramel hair. She swiveled on her stool, turning to their group with an inviting smile on her full lips. The white t-shirt she had on was freshly stained with soot and grease, suggesting she had probably been working down there all morning. She had none of the pastel colors or large bead work that Theresa was donning, in fact her capris jeans and sandals were something Jolene could see herself wearing.

"Hi," she gave a little wave to their group, her eyes brimming with confidence. "The table's set up over there, so we can get started on that leg."

Theresa said an appreciative thanks while indicating to Jolene that she could assist Maeve over to the procedure area. As for the Pukwudgie, Theresa took him over to the back corner of the room to a stacked set of crates and sat him atop them like a grubby little king. She danced about from shelf to shelf until coming to a small amber phial that she reached up for. It looked to be a tonic of some sort, or so Jolene's untrained eyes thought, and Theresa uncapped it before handing it over to the Pukwudgie. He first gave it a sniff with his giant nose, than started to suck up the contents greedily with revolting slurps.

"Just a bit of walnut oil, calms them right down and makes them drowsy," said Theresa while approaching the table where they had gathered around. True to her word, the Pukwudgie began to sway, and he dropped the phial as he fell to his side on the crates, passed out like an old drunk.

"Can't you put it in a closet or something?" said Maeve, eyeing the snoring creature mistrustfully.

"No, remember they hate confinement, and that poor fellow has seen enough of the dark." Theresa started to open cases that had been set up at the table by Mallory. One of the wooden boxes contained a set of glass cups that she laid out carefully on a white cloth.

"What are those for?" said Clare, leaning forward to exam the instruments.

"She's suffering from troll limb as a result of the quills being removing too early," Theresa explained.

"I told you we should have left them in," said Jolene accusingly.

"It's true," Theresa continued. "The pain may have been unbearable, but it would have saved you a great deal of trouble if you could have made it over here with the quills intact. Once the poison from the quills is exposed to air, the wound festers, and you end up with troll limb."

"What happens if that's left untreated?" Maeve asked with worry.

"The infected limb turns to stone, like a troll in the sun." Jolene and Clare shared an uneasy look while Theresa got to work on Maeve's leg. "Lucky for you, it's easily treatable in the early stages. I can remove the toxin from the wounds by cupping."

They watched as Mallory handed Theresa cotton balls soaked in alcohol. She dropped one into each of the glass cups and proceeded to ignite the cotton with a long match. Once the glass was heated, each cup was overturned and Theresa carefully applied one over each of the black wounds on Maeve's leg. The glass bulbs seemed to create a vacuum seal on the surface of the leg, drawing up the skin with strong suction. Jolene could already see the black ooze being pulled into the cups.

"That's so disgusting," Mallory commented with a twist to her lips.

Theresa shot her a scolding look. "Now that's not a very pleasant bedside manner, is it?"

"No, it's alright," said Maeve. "It is disgusting."

Theresa appeared to lose any pity she was feeling for Maeve, shaking her head as she strolled over to one of the opened books on the counter. Her eyes flitted across the page, a smile breaking out over her face as she came across what she was searching for. "Did you finish it?" she asked of Mallory.

"I did, though I had a little trouble getting it to thicken." Mallory turned to one of the simmering pots on a hotplate, removing the lid to give the liquid a stir with a spoon. "I think it's the right consistency now."

Theresa peeked over the rim of the pot, seeming pleased with what she found. "See, I knew you could do it. I daresay I couldn't have made it better myself."

Mallory wore a self-assured look better than Jolene had ever seen on anyone. She moved quickly, seizing up an empty jar which she used to ladle her brew into. It was brown like milk chocolate, and thick like mud with an earthy smell. She screwed a lid on, and walked it over to Maeve with an outstretched hand.

"What's that for?" said Maeve.

"It's Laneus cream, for your leg," said Mallory, as they watched Maeve take the jar with hesitance. "You apply it three times a day for the next two weeks to bring down the numbness from troll limb."

"And you made it? Do you even know what you're doing?"

Mallory let out a derisive laugh. "You're asking me that, when you didn't even know about the Pukwudgie or to leave the quills alone? I might be an apprentice, but I don't need you to make me feel like an idiot."

Maeve sat wide eyed, the cups still suctioned to her leg with her body sprawled out on the table in her hideous pajamas. She clutched the jar a bit closer to her chest, and her ears turned a light pink. "Fair enough."

"Alright then," said Mallory lightly, already over the squabble.

Jolene snorted audibly, sharing a grin with Clare across the table as it was the first time they had seen their friend brought to embarrassment in an argument that didn't end with her head-butting the other person.

Theresa then returned to remove the cups from Maeve's leg, this time wearing a pair of rubber gloves to wipe away any of the left over black residue from the wounds with fresh gauze. She disposed of the glass bulbs into a clean pot of boiling water, and a cap of something else that she had sprinkled in after removing her gloves.

"You'll want to keep your leg wrapped in a bandage after applying the Laneus cream. A word of caution, the cream may stain your skin brown, and you might not grow hair out of the affected leg until it's completely healed," Theresa explained.

"It'll save me time shaving I suppose," said Maeve with a shrug. "Thanks Theresa, and you too Mal."

Theresa smiled sweetly, and Mallory waved her off. "It's fine. I like the practice."

Maeve turned to look at Theresa, and Jolene could see that she was standing with a nervous sway, as though waiting for something awful to be said.

"Is there anything else I can do?" Theresa asked quickly.

"Yeah, do you guys have a bathroom I can use?" said Maeve uncomfortably. "I'd settle for a bedpan."

Theresa's eyes flashed with surprise. "You need the toilet?"

"It's been over twelve hours, I'm gonna wet myself." Maeve let out a groan as she grabbed at her lower stomach, hoisting herself to the edge of table.

Maeve leapt down before Jolene could get to her, only this time her leg had the strength to hold her up. That is, at least until she made to take her first step. When all of her weight was put on her bad leg, she teetered to the left and folded down to the floor in a heap. The resounding thunk startled the Pukwudgie from his rest, and he let out a snort and growl at Maeve before turning around to face the wall.

They all laughed.