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When they passed through Silverthorn’s front gates, Tipp wanted to stop every few steps to look at something new, but Kiva urged him on. Relief filled her when she saw Rhessinda sitting on the familiar bench in the sanctuary, because she realized that if the healer accompanied them on their task, it would lessen the chance of suspicious eyes.

“Who’s this?” Rhess asked, smiling at Tipp as they approached.

Kiva thought it was kind of her not to mention that she’d seen Tipp before — the night of the abduction, when he’d been dosed with a moradine tonic and snoring on the queen’s couch.

“I’m T-T-Tipp,” he said, offering his hand.

“Rhessinda,” she said, with a firm shake. Winking, she added, “But friends call me Rhess.”

Tipp grinned, the lighthearted expression proving he was quickly bouncing back from the previous night.

“I came looking for you yesterday,” Kiva told Rhess. “I forgot you only work mornings.”

“Everything all right?” Rhess asked, her ashy brows furrowing.

“I just wanted to see if you were free for lunch,” Kiva said, and Rhess’s forehead smoothed. “But today ... I need something else.” She pulled the empty vial from her pocket. “I have to make a potion. Can we go back to the apothecaries’ garden?”

Rhess sighed loudly and rolled her eyes toward Tipp. “Sounds like Kiva wants to steal from Silverthorn again.”

“A-Again?”

“Not steal,” Kiva defended. “Just ... borrow.”

“Without permission,” Rhess said pointedly.

Kiva crossed her arms, ignoring Tipp’s snicker. “Will you help me or not?”

Rhessinda jumped to her feet. “For you, my friend, anything.”

And then the healer linked their arms together, one through Kiva’s, one through Tipp’s, and began frog-marching them dramatically across the sanctuary, eliciting a delighted giggle from the young boy. For that alone, Kiva knew she’d made the right decision in bringing him along. Rhessinda’s contagious personality was enough to brighten anyone’s day.

Soon arriving at the gardens, Kiva recited the ingredients she’d seen on her grandmother’s bench, along with the ones she’d detected by scent, rattling them off to Rhess and Tipp: tilliflower, silverwheat, garrow, mirkmoss, tumumin, and hogweed. They then consulted the map before traipsing through the numerous rows collecting the desired samples.

The only hiccup came when they realized that the mirkmoss was located inside the greenhouse, until Rhessinda pointed out that there might also be a workspace inside where Kiva could make her potion.

Her lack of certainty didn’t fill Kiva with confidence — nor did her lack of a key, though she surprised them with her impressive lock-picking skills — but once they were inside, all of Kiva’s reservations fled.

The greenhouse wasn’t large, but it was bursting with rare plants, herbs, berries, and flowers the likes of which Kiva had only ever heard about in wondrous tones from her father. If she hadn’t been so desperate to make her potion, she would have lingered for hours, breathing in the earthy, fresh scents and basking in the humidity of the air.

“It smells f-funny in here,” Tipp said, wrinkling his nose.

“That’s called nature,” Rhess said, wrinkling hers, too.

Hiding a smile, Kiva hunted down the mirkmoss before moving to the wooden workbench at the back of the room. There she found an assortment of apothecary tools, including blades, chopping boards, and vials large enough to hold much more than the three stingy mouthfuls Delora had provided her.

“How can we help?” Rhess asked, wiping brown sap from her white robes.

Handing the empty vial over, Kiva said, “I need to replicate this. I think I’ve identified all the ingredients, but I’m not sure about the quantities.”

When Tipp held out his hand, Rhess handed the vial to him and admitted, “I’m not great at making complicated potions, but I’m pretty handy with a blade.” She indicated the chopping boards. “I can prepare anything you need.”

Kiva had hoped Rhess might be able to offer more help, but she’d also known replicating the potion would be tricky. She’d just have to follow her healing intuition from years of having to scrape together lifesaving treatments using limited resources. If she could do that, she could do this.

Resolved, Kiva laid out her ingredients, carefully considering what she knew of each, before giving instructions to Rhess and Tipp, with them slicing as directed. All too soon Kiva was combining the mixture and grinding everything together, then waiting for the garrow and mirkmoss to begin weeping, thinning the solution into a liquid.

“Is that h-how it’s meant to look?” Tipp asked when Kiva poured the potion into a clean vial.

“I think so,” Kiva said. She’d done everything she could to reproduce it perfectly, and she was certain that it looked and smelled the same as Delora’s. All that was left was to taste it and see. “Here goes.”