Page 24 of A Tower of Half-Truths

She turned to Mavery and gave her an appraising look that settled somewhere in the vicinity of Mavery’s waist. Enid leaned closer—and so did the generous swell of her bosom.

Heat trickled up Mavery’s neck. She forced her gaze upward, where she caught a glint of something dangling from Enid’s ear: a brass pendant depicting a dragon.

That explained how Alain’s apothecary was able to source anything. Did he know his money was helping fund private armies, smuggling operations, backroom deals, and gods knew what else the Brass Dragons had their fingers in these days?

For a Dragon, Enid played fast and loose with security.

She had no rookie guild members on guard duty.

There wasn’t even a single ward cast over the storefront.

Mavery subtly glanced around the shop, searching for anyone who might be lurking in the corners, shrouding themselves in shadow, but she could Sense nothing.

She caught the faintest hint of ash, but that was likely from the open fire—or any number of ingredients lying around.

From what she could tell, the three of them were alone.

“Who’s your friend?” Enid asked. Though she addressed Alain, her gaze remained fixed on Mavery.

“This is Mavery, my new assistant.”

“Well, well! If she was my assistant, I doubt I’d ever get any work done.” Enid threw Mavery a wink. “Does this Mavery have a family name?”

“Reynard,” Mavery said with a knowing smirk.

“Exactly my type, too,” Enid sighed, then returned her attention to the man who was about to continue lining her pockets. “Well, I suppose you’re here for more than playing catch-up. My ledger will be all the happier for it. What can I do you for?”

Alain handed her the list. She mouthed the words and quirked an eyebrow as she read over it.

“You’re in luck!” she said. “I just so happen to have everything in stock. I had another buyer for that powder you’re looking for, but he didn’t pay up. Only a single ounce, though.”

“Anything you have, I’ll take it.”

“All right, then. Hold tight.”

She flitted about the shop, humming to herself as she gathered jars from the shelves and brought them to the counter.

She carefully weighed out ingredients and poured them into smaller jars and pouches.

She stood on a stool to gather some bundles of herbs, then bound them in twine.

Finally, she headed toward the pile of broken equipment and vanished behind it.

There was the creak of what was likely a trapdoor opening and closing.

Mavery turned to Alain, arms crossed and lips pursed.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Your apothecary really can source anything.”

“Just as I told you. And?”

“And you don’t find that suspicious? Convenient, even?”

He peered at her with a slight tilt to his head. “Whatever you’re insinuating, I genuinely haven’t a clue.”

Mavery sighed. “Did you know she’s a—”

The trapdoor opened again.

“We’ll talk about it later,” she muttered as Enid reappeared, holding a black pouch that could only contain the powdered kutauss claws.

At the counter, Enid totaled up everything in her ledger; it came out to nearly five hundred potins.

Alain counted out notes with the nonchalance of someone who regularly spent six weeks’ worth of his assistant’s wages in one fell swoop.

Meanwhile, Mavery pondered what other illicit merchandise was stored in the room below.

Though she knew better than to steal from a Dragon, the Cracked Pestle’s lack of security would make it so simple.

Why wasn’t there at least a guard keeping watch?

“Gods above! In all this excitement, I completely forgot,” Enid said. She looked up and bellowed, “Peaches!”

The ceiling rattled as thunder erupted above their heads. It rolled across the upper floor and down the staircase along the back wall. Mavery recoiled, nearly knocking over a barrel of serum, when a hellhound appeared at the bottom of the stairs.

The hound was a sleek black and umber blur as it sprinted to the cauldron.

Then, with a din of panting and squelching that made Mavery’s stomach lurch, it gobbled up its breakfast within seconds.

Thick strands of drool oozed from the beast’s maw.

It raised its head, and its glowing red eyes met her stare.

“Oh, gods damn it,” she muttered.

The hellhound galloped around the counter and skidded to a halt, nearly colliding into her. With a gasp, she squeezed her eyes shut and clenched her fists.

“Not a dog lover, I take it,” Enid said with a touch of amusement in her voice.

Dogs were fine, but this creature was no dog.

Its sniffing sounded more like a rutting boar than anything dog-like.

And that was to make no mention of its fangs…

Only weeks ago, Mavery had seen what they could do to human flesh.

Instead of telling Enid that, all she could manage was a disgusted groan as the hellhound’s snout prodded her in a rather inappropriate place.

“Peaches is harmless, so long as you don’t try to nick anything.”

Though Mavery had serious doubts about that, the hellhound backed off after determining she posed no threat to Enid—or Enid’s wares. She opened her eyes with a sigh of relief, only to discover that it had moved on to Alain…who was petting the godsdamned thing.

“You remember me, don’t you, Peaches?” Alain said. The hound’s barbed tail whipped about as its slobbery tongue lolled. “Of course you do, because you’re such a good boy!”

“Good thing you’re my only customers at the moment,” Enid said. She rolled her eyes, though she did so with a faint smile. “Can’t have word getting out that my guard dog’s got a soft side. Peaches, come!”

The hellhound snapped to attention, then trotted over and sat on its haunches while Enid packed up Alain’s order. She escorted Alain and Mavery to the door, each of them carrying a large satchel over one shoulder.

“Don’t be a stranger,” Enid said with the cheerfulness of someone who was now a tad wealthier than she’d been earlier that morning. “That goes for you, too, Reynard. Kindred spirits are always welcome here.”

She winked at Mavery again before closing the door.

“What did she mean by that?” Alain asked.

Mavery didn’t answer him. Her eyes scanned the shop’s exterior until she spotted an etching below the left windowsill: an X, followed by an O with a vertically stacked B and D in its center. As she’d suspected, the Cracked Pestle was a Dragon-operated establishment.

Not wanting to loiter here any longer, she readjusted her satchel and hurried down the street.

“Wait!” Alain called.

Bottles clinked as he jogged to catch up. Once the Cracked Pestle was out of sight, Mavery stopped and leaned against the wall of another shop.

“If only we’d remembered to bring one of your enchanted bags.”

“Transmutated,” Alain panted. “Can’t…enchant…inanimate objects. Common misconception. Now, will you please explain what has gotten into you?”

She looked up and down the street. Though there was hardly another person around, she still asked in a low voice, “Did you know your apothecary is a Brass Dragon?”

Alain blinked at her, mouth agape. “Enid, a Brass…? What? How did you—?”

“She was wearing their emblem.”

“You’re certain about that?”

Mavery nodded. “I’d recognize it anywhere. Not to mention, you’ll only find kutauss claws on the black market.”

Alain collapsed against the wall, looking more exhausted than ever.

“I suppose it was always odd how she’s never accepted bank cheques—not to mention the hellhound—but gods, I never would have guessed.

And I’ve been patronizing her shop for years!

” He narrowed his eyes at Mavery. “How do you know so much about this sort of thing?”

She winced. By even mentioning the Dragons, she’d already revealed too much. Being a university dropout was one thing. Being a former—albeit low-ranking—member of Osperland’s largest and most notorious criminal organization was a far worse transgression.

Alain wouldn’t be able to trust her. She needed him to continue trusting her until she could fully case Kazamin’s office. Not to mention, she still needed to investigate his storage room and the box beneath his bed. But saying nothing was just as likely to raise his suspicions.

“I had some run-ins with the Dragons in my younger, dumber days.”

“Did those overlap with your wardbreaking days?”

“Something like that.”

“I suppose that’s all you’re going to say on the matter.”

She shrugged. “There’s not much else to say.”

Alain observed her for a moment. She once again adjusted her satchel, which felt as though it had tripled in weight, as she avoided meeting his eye.

“All right, then. Let’s track down a carriage,” he said. “And quickly. These bottles are heavier than they looked.”