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I gulped, the consequence of the decision weighing heavily on me despite already knowing the answer. “Yes.” The word was barely a whisper.

“I do not know the price, but therewillbe a price. Of all the spells Phineas could get his hands on, this one is especially dangerous. I know you made a deal with him, but you might need to keep some of this a secret. This spell can easily be twisted for one’s own gain, and blood magic is unpredictable when altered.”

I nodded in response. “I understand. But what if he finds out? What will be the price of betraying him?”

Alastir raised his brow. “You don’t want to know.”

I nodded. I couldn’t think of the repercussions of that right now, we needed to perform this ritual and create this antidote. We didn’t have any other choice.

“What do you need from me?” I asked, studying the parchment where Alastir had scribbled the spell.

“Your blood.”

“Myblood?” I asked, confused.

“Kotova blood is some of the most potent and powerful blood there is. Donika used her own blood to create this spell, we need your blood to undo it.”

I nodded in understanding.

Alastir grabbed a glass and placed it on the counter, reaching into his belt to procure a small knife. Without preamble he grasped my hand, cutting the palm. I winced, holding it over the glass as the blood poured forth over my skin. His eyes darted towards the shop door before returning to me, squeezing my hand to encourage the flow of blood.

Once enough blood had filled the glass, he pressed his own palm to mine, blood smearing between our hands.

“Sana quod laesi. Sana quod laesi. Sana quod laesi.” The incantation flowed from his lips rapidly. When he removed his hand from mine, the only indication that there had ever been a cut was the smear of blood left behind.

“Quickly, go upstairs and wash that off.” Alastir nodded towards the staircase that led to the second level. He wiped his own hand on a dish rag, stuffing the bloody rag into a drawer behind the counter. “Thomas, bring this upstairs and place it in the vault.”

Thomas, who I hadn’t noticed appear again, nodded in understanding. He grasped the glass in his shaking hands and followed me up the staircase. Right off the landing to the second floor was a small washroom, and I ran my hand under the sink until it was clean. I wiped my hands off on the washcloth, leaving it hanging over the lip of the sink. I quickly descended the staircase, Thomas on my heels.

“We cannot perform the spell with him here. I will have to figure out a way to get rid of him. The blood magic gives off a distinct essence that he will sense immediately.”

“I understand.” My throat was thick.

“There is another ingredient I seem to be missing that I will have to send out for as well. Dragon’s breath. I could have sworn it was right here,” Alastir spoke as he moved towards the shelf, his hand lingering on an empty spot where the container must have been.

It was only another moment before Phineas approached, his men remaining outside as he opened the door to the shop.His hand was filled with a green and red root with a white flower. He placed it on the counter before Alastir.

“Will it only be enough for one cure?” Puck asked.

Isaac. He was thinking of Isaac.

“Do you need more than one?” Alastir asked, his gaze meeting Puck’s.

“Yes,” I answered for him. “We need two.”

“Who else—” but his words were cut off as his eyes glazed over, turning milky. It only lasted the span of a exhale before they cleared. “Isaac.”

His expression turned grim as he grabbed a larger beaker from the shelf and placed it on the counter. “Isaac was a good friend of mine. Tried to convince me to join the resistance more times than I can count.”

“And each time you declined?” I asked.

“As I’ve told you before, I am too old for war,” he replied thinly.

He didn’t appear to bethatold. But at some point, Shades slowed in their aging. If he was the advisor and best friend of my father Osiris, he had to be at least in his sixties at this point, if not much older. I was too afraid to ask.

Alastir ground together a mixture of ingredients in the mortar with the pestle, pressing them together until all that was left behind was a brown, indistinguishable powder. He poured the powder into the beaker, filling it with a mixture of different colored liquids.

“I still need Dragon’s breath,” he said, glancing at Phineas.