“There is an herbalist to see you,” Seren said.
Alric looked from the door to Pavise, he nodded to Seren who stepped aside.
Pavise turned in his chair. “Send her in.”
The woman who entered wore a dark travel cloak with the hood still raised. Alric got the impression that this was someone who had learned that being noticed too clearly lead to more issues. Her boots were practical, her cloak had been repaired twice near the hem, and beneath it Alric saw plain cloth, a narrow belt, and a small knife that looked more like a tool than a threat, which in this world was not as reassuring.
She paused just inside the room and looked around. It was a quick look. Door, window, Pavise, Alric, desk, corners. Then her gaze settled back on Pavise.
Her shoulders eased slightly and she grinned. Pavise stood.
The chair, having already endured more than most furniture should have to endure, gave a quiet creak. Pavise crossed the room and wrapped the woman in a hug.
Alric could not help but notice, it was a warm hug, although she was being dwarfed by his arms, she patted his arm and nodded while looking up at Pavise.
“Rosa,” Pavise said, “I’ve missed you.”
“Pavise,” she replied, her voice soft but dry. “Still to big to fit anywhere.”
Pavise’s mouth twitched. He stepped back and turned toward Alric. “This is Rosa. Herbalist, gatherer, and once, a member of my party.”
Rosa made a faint sound. “Once? It was a few times.”
“It was years ago.”
“That giant spider nest, I try not to think about it.” She said frowning at Pavise.
Pavise ignored that with the experience of a man who had been called worse. “She kept me alive more than once.”
Rosa looked at Alric. “He makes it sound grand, if he died, there was no way I was carrying his body out.”
“The important part is that I lived,” Pavise said.
Alric nodded. “I am glad for it.”
Rosa offered her hand. Alric stood and took it as she stepped forward.
Her grip was firm. She did not squeeze, Alric had worried for a moment that he might not have escaped with his hand intact.
“I’m Alric, known sometimes as the brewer.” He said glancing at Pavise who didn’t introduce him.
Something about her was off.
Alric knew that was a rude thought but he could not place her age properly. Her voice sounded older than her posture, her hand felt stronger than she looked. The hood shadowed too much of her face, but not enough to explain why his mind kept trying to arrange her and failing.
Pavise noticed him noticing.
“I’m Rosa, adventurer herbalist.” She said with a shrug.
“It’s fine Rosa,” Pavise said as Rosa turned her head toward him. “The two of you will be keeping each other’s secrets after all.”
Rosa looked at Alric for a moment. He felt judged, weighed and measured in that moment. Then she nodded and lowered her hood.
Alric expected something obvious. He did not get it.
Rosa had blonde hair touched with grey, which was unusual here, it was drawn back without decoration. Her face was narrow, weathered slightly at the eyes, and calm. There was a faint old mark near one cheek. Her nose could have been broken once with a small but noticeable bump.
Nothing strange. Then she turned slightly, and the light caught her ears. They came to soft points.
If he hadn’t been looking for something he wouldn’t have noticed. The ears gave him a slightly uncanny feeling. Alric’s face lit up before he could stop it.
“Are you an elf?”
Pavise closed his eyes.
Rosa looked at him with a dead stare.
Alric felt his ears heat. “Sorry. That was rude.”
“It was direct,” Rosa said with a shrug, her face returning to normal. “It was honest. Poorly timed, but honest.”
“Uh.. I can ask again later if the timing is better?” Alric asked with a grin hoping to lighten the mood.
“Just don’t.” Came from Pavise but he was chuckling.
“No, to answer though,” she said turning her dead stare on Pavise for a moment before turning back to Alric. “I am not an elf. Less than a quarter. Less than that, really. Four generations ago.”
Alric nodded, because he did possess some survival instinct around people with knives, this time at least.
Four generations ago he noted was strangely specific.
He also noticed something else now that the hood was down, though he could not have explained it cleanly. There was a faint Lessa-like quality to Rosa, she had the same kind of beauty but slightly less pronounced. Lessa was slightly fuller in figure than Rosa was.
Alric did not like that thought, comparing like that deeply felt unfair.
“Please, sit,” he said, because business was safer than curiosity.
Rosa took the other visitor chair. Pavise returned to his own, lowering himself with the careful respect of a man who knew the chair had already shown courage and he intended to respect it.
Seren still stood by the door.
“Tea?” she asked.
Rosa glanced at Pavise. He shook his head slightly.
“No, thank you,” Rosa said.
Seren nodded, gave Alric a look that said she had banked several rebukes, then closed the door behind her.
Rosa folded her hands in her lap. “Pavise said you wanted herbs.”
“I do,” Alric said. “Four for now. Possibly more later, but I have been told they are an issue.”
“That depends on the four.” He took the folded list from the drawer and passed it across; Seren had written the list for him earlier.
Rosa opened it. Her expression barely changed, but her eyebrows rose, and her eyes moved to Pavise. Alric hated how quickly that glance confirmed Pavise’s entire warning.
“It’s to make alcohol, or drink, not potions,” Alric said.
Rosa looked back at the page before reading them out loud. “Sunspur. Hearthleaf. Glassmint.” Her thumb moved lower. “And Wickleaf.”
“Mana leaf in Granny Wax’s notes,” Alric said. “Bluevein bitter, mage’s tongue, old-man leaf in the herbology book. Wickleaf was in one of the buyer notes.”
“Wickleaf is what gatherers call it.”
Rosa watched him.
He glanced at Pavise for a moment before explaining, “Sunspur seems to wake people up. Hearthleaf seems to help with warmth or recovery. Glassmint seems to settle some of the unpleasant edges from stronger tonics. I want to try to make a drink with it. Something bright, sweetened, spirit-based eventually. The idea is that it makes a tired person feel a little more awake while also making them a little drunker, which I admit sounds worse when said but it is fun.”
Pavise’s mouth twitched.
Rosa looked at the list again. “Awake and drunk.”
“Slightly awake and slightly drunk. Is how I’d rather word it.”
“I’m sure you would.”
“I’m not selling it as medicine just so you know and I don’t trust festival crowds with this either.”
“Good,” Rosa said. “Sunspur is not gentle.”
“No. Racing heart, anger, thirst, shaking if taken too strong. Collapse if someone is an idiot with it.”
Her eyes lifted.
Alric opened the drawer and took out the few pages he had prepared, not the whole stack. He placed Granny Wax’s notes on the desk and turned them toward her.
Rosa leaned forward. Her eyes touched the handwriting, then stopped near the top of the first page.
“You have Felicia’s notes.”
Alric shifted back slightly blinking. “Granny Wax?”
“That is what people call her when they don’t know her.”
“She’s real?”
Rosa looked at him.
“I assumed she was real,” Alric said quickly. “The name has a certain… weight to it.”
“She is real.”
“Alive?”
“Last I heard.”
“Good.” Alric felt genuinely relieved. “I wrote down that I should find out. I also wrote possibly terrifying.”
Rosa smiled then and the smile changed her face, in a way that made Alric understand why she might prefer the hood.
“She would like that,” Rosa said.
“The terrifying part?”
Pavise scoffed as Rosa shrugged.
Rosa tapped the notes with one finger. “These are good, better than the copied nonsense I’ve seen. If you are working from Felicia’s notes, then you are already safer than many idiots holding a mortar.”
She sat back, the list in her hand. “Your drink may still be medicine though.”
“No,” Alric said too quickly. Alric rubbed at his jaw. “No, not because the herbs are not medicinal. I know that they are but that is not what I’m making. If someone is sick, injured, feverish, or sick enough to need treatment, they should go to an apothecary or healer. Not to me for a cup with a cheerful name.”
“You have named it already?”
“No. That would be irresponsible.”
Pavise glanced at him.
“I have thought of names,” Alric admitted. “Privately. Most are bad.”
Rosa almost smiled again.
“I want fun,” Alric said. “That is all, something small, warming, stupid in a controlled way. The sort of drink that doesn’t make you want to sit but go sing a song outside kind of fun.”
“Fun has killed people,” Rosa said tilting her head.
“So has medicine, medicine and poison are two sides of the same coin.”
The answer came out before he could make it safer. Rosa did not seem offended. If anything, she looked more interested.
“Yes,” she said. “More than most admit.”
Alric leaned back. “I know enough to know I don’t know enough, I’m looking at tastes and flavours, very low dosages.”
Rosa nodded slowly. “That is almost sensible.”
Her thumb returned to the fourth name.
“Wickleaf is not for fun though,” she said. “It has one use.”
“That may be what people say, it also has a cooling flavour.”
Rosa’s attention sharpened slightly and one eye closed a bit more than the other. Alric chose his words carefully.
“Mages use it in their own draughts I know,” he said. “I have not seen the full process, but I have heard enough to think the recipe is bad. It has a cooling flavour or effect, like something I know as menthol. There might be something there I can work with. Refreshing drink, hot day, with mint probably.”
Rosa stared at him for a long moment.
“Do you intend to make mage potions?”
“No, and I know and also, I mean it. Small amounts, notes, maybe separate the cooling part from the rest. No swallowing whole leaves because some margin says not to unless intended.”
Rosa looked sharply at him. “Felicia wrote that?”
“She did.” Alric nodded.
“That was probably after Orven.” Rosa said looking at the notes.
“I am not going to ask,” he said.
“A rare wise choice,” Rosa replied.
“I know Wickleaf does something with mana,” Alric said. “Maybe it takes it, maybe it holds it poorly, maybe it interferes with the body noticing it. I don’t know but the swallowed effect sounds close enough to mana exhaustion that I can’t ignore it. I am not interested in that, I want the cooling effect, a bit like mint.”
Rosa’s face had gone still.
“I want your findings,” she said.
Alric sat back, “I must pay you for the herbs and then also give my findings?”
Rosa shifted back slightly. “Ahh… sorry you are right. That would be unfair. Can I maybe buy them from you later if you do find something interesting?”
Alric considered that, “No promises, I’ll think about it.”
Rosa nodded and smiled again; Alric had to close his eyes not to stare. “Good enough then. Alright then, I’m happy to do this.”
Pavise relaxed a little. “Good,” Pavise said with a grin. “Now ask how much he wants, so you can begin to really start to dislike him.”
Rosa turned the list over once. “Uh… How much do you want?”
Pavise laughed.
Alric rolled his eyes. “Everyone is so dramatic about this, let’s just say a lot.”
“You think in barrels,” Pavise pointed out.
“I work in barrels. It’s one of the only standards I trust.”
Rosa folded the list. “Bundles, baskets, sacks, or am I making a mule unhappy?”
Alric hesitated. “How much makes a mule unhappy?”
“For normal people, two sacks.”
“With Alric,” Pavise said, “You going to need a mule train.”
Alric pointed at him. “You are enjoying this more than you should.”
Pavise only grinned widely.
Rosa tucked the list into her cloak. “The good news is that all four are common enough if you know where to look. The bad news is that common does not mean easy. Sunspur is late but possible, Hearthleaf needs proper drying, Glassmint bruises if handled badly, and with the amount you want, I have to pack it carefully. Wickleaf... I will be careful with.”
“Can you get enough before winter?”
“Some. Enough to begin your work, I think. Not enough for whatever barrel-shaped thought is trying to climb out of your head.”
“I do not have a barrel-shaped thought.”
Pavise looked at him.
“Not yet,” Alric said.
Rosa nodded as if that confirmed something. “I cannot gather all of it myself. I know people who can be trusted with some of the work, not the reason for it. No one gets the whole list. No clever young gatherer who thinks secrets are worth more when sold twice.”
Alric nodded. “And payment?”
“I will charge you for the herbs, travel, and silence.”
“Silence has a rate?”
“Everything has a rate. Silence just costs more when people pretend it is friendship and yes, silence costs extra.”
Alric decided he liked her, which was unfortunate because liking people often made him more likely to do expensive things.
“If these are common,” he asked, “would alchemists really care?”
Rosa and Pavise exchanged a look. Alric realised late that he had asked a stupid question.
“Common things become valuable,” Rosa said, “when someone uses them differently.”
Alric looked down at the dull ledger while tapping his finger on the desk.
Barley was common, water was common. Copper was common enough if one had money and a dwarf prepared to get impolite about it. None of that had stopped the brewery from becoming something captains inspected and kings worried over.
Pavise pushed himself to his feet. “I’ll leave the rest between you.”
Alric looked up. “You’re leaving?”
“This is not guild business.”
He said it gently, but firmly. The implication hung in the air.
Alric nodded. Pavise had already gone further than Alric would have ever expected. The warning, the introduction, the burned letter, all of it had cost more than coin.
“Thank you,” Alric said and meant it.
Pavise gave a small nod.
Rosa stood and drew her hood back up, the ears vanished. Alric felt slightly sad for it.
“I will send word in two weeks,” she said. “A girl with a blue ribbon on her basket will ask whether headquarters needs winter onions. If the ribbon is blue, say yes. If it is green, say no and nothing more.”
Alric stared at her. “Onions?”
“Everyone always needs onions.”
Pavise opened the door before Alric could decide whether that was wisdom or nonsense.
Seren stood beyond it, close enough to be useful and far enough to pretend she had not been waiting. Rosa gave her a polite nod. Seren returned it.
Then Pavise and Rosa left.
“Tea, Mister Alric?” Seren asked, Alric nodded.
The door closed. The office became quiet again.
Alric sat for a long while after they had gone, thinking about the alchemists. If potions worked, then whoever had them, had more power than anyone ever should.