“Alys!”

  The shout escaped me long before I reached the house, a chill settling into my bones when there was no answer.

  “Alys?!” I yelled again.

  “What?!” Her irritated question slammed into my brain with enough force to make me slow down. Then, since I apparently didn’t respond quickly enough, she followed up with an even more annoyed, “Well?!”

  “Are you all right?”

  “Obviously.” Her tone softened at the obvious fear in my voice. “Why are you asking?”

  “I couldn’t see you out front, and then I spotted flames…” I trailed off as I came around the side of the house, taking in the scene.

  For a few long moments, I had no idea what I was looking at. There was a large, deep pit of odd proportions a couple meters away from Alys, with a pile of dirt next to that. Meanwhile, my dragoness was kneeling next to a large… bathtub?

  That’s what it resembled, at least. The object was cuboid, and therefore a bit more angular than the typical curved profile of a bathtub. Its walls were uneven and seemed to be missing bits here and there. Overall, though, it could function as a serviceable bathtub.

  The material it was made of was its most fascinating aspect. At first glance, I thought the black, shiny stone was obsidian, but a closer look revealed that wasn’t it. Perhaps some kind of low-grade crystal?

  I glimpsed all of this in a heartbeat. Turning back to my dragoness, I found her looking at me with an undeniable softness in her gaze.

  “You got worried?” she asked, obviously trying to cover that softness with a teasing tone.

  “Of course I got worried. I mean, I know you can take care of yourself, but…” I shrugged helplessly before taking a step forward. I wanted to get closer and maybe steal a kiss, but she raised a hand to stop me.

  “I’d keep my distance a little while longer if I were you. And yes, there’s no reason to worry about me, but… hrm. Thank you.”

  I said nothing, choosing to stand back and watch. It didn’t take long for me to understand why she’d warned me off.

  Alys picked up a handful of earth, using her other hand to remove a few rocks and blades of grass, and inhaled. She then breathed out a powerful stream of white flames. It wasn’t as impressive as the blue fire she’d used to take down the horrific eel creature that had attacked Swiftband, but it was still a sight to behold.

  The fire’s effects were even more of a marvel. I stared in astonishment as the white flames washed over her hand with no ill effects, swiftly liquefying the clump of earth and shifting its composition. She was still breathing fire onto her hand when she smeared the former earth into the bathtub, treating the stuff like putty to be shaped and using it to fill in one of the surface gaps.

  The odd black material of the tub heated up and became slightly malleable as well. This gave her a chance to even out some spots and make the whole thing more uniform with the ease of a master sculptor.

  She cut off her breath with a look of satisfaction on her face. I then got to watch as the bathtub cooled and solidified with surprising speed, the molten earth having shifted seamlessly into more of the black material.

  “Well, what do you think?” Alys grinned, gesturing towards the tub. “It will take me a couple more hours to finish, but I think I like how it’s turning out.”

  “It’s wonderful. But how in the world are you doing that?” Now that the tub had stopped radiating heat, I drew closer and peered into it. “I know dragon fire can leave glass and obsidian formations in its wake, but this doesn’t look like either. It seems different, somehow.”

  “That’s because it is. My grandmother came up with a spell that would let her use her flames to produce an enhanced material. Once this thing solidifies, and it does so quickly, it’s almost impervious to heat and cold alike. It’s also surprisingly tough. She made it so she could reinforce her lair and wouldn’t risk ruining things every time she used her flames.”

  I pondered that for a moment, sorting my follow-up questions into a proper order. “You say it is a spell, but the only thing I saw you use was your breath. How does that work?”

  “All the spellcasting happens on the inside of my body,” she explained. “The spell doesn’t conjure flames. It alters my own fire breath.”

  “Right.” I nodded slowly. “But… I literally just saw you melt the material. How is it in any way impervious to heat?”

  She scoffed. “Of course I can melt it again while using the spell. How else would I be able to alter the stuff I make out of it? My grandmother wouldn’t design a faulty spell like that.”

  “That makes sense,” I mused. “Flames with special characteristics are not that uncommon. Take our new beetle buddy, for example.”

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

  My dragoness blinked at me in confusion. “What?”

  “You didn’t notice? When Morty showed us how to feed him?”

  Granted, this demonstration had occurred while we were in Mysty’s shop, and mostly out of Morty’s desire to annoy his sister by stealing a few plants from her. But I’d found the entire process fascinating.

  Following Morty’s instructions, I had opened the jar just enough to slip two small plants into it. The beetle had pounced on them immediately, flaring up with scarlet-colored flames. The plants had been reduced to ashes in an instant. The beetle had proceeded to devour the ashes, then had settled down for a nap.

  Yet I’d noted something about those ashes. The plants’ mana had been perfectly preserved within them. Furthermore, I’d observed that the incineration had imbued the plants’ special properties directly into that mana.

  Alys just shook her head at my question. “I think I was distracted by those plants Mysty was showing off to me at the time.”

  “The ones that could supposedly ‘strengthen your inner flame’?”

  “Those were the ones, yes.” She snorted dismissively, then picked up another handful of earth to continue working on the tub.

  I waited for her to finish that round of fire-breath before speaking again. “Why didn’t you get some of those, anyway?”

  “Because they were both expensive and complete nonsense. There are no plants like that. Grandmother would have mentioned them if they existed. She once told me about some herbs that can temporarily help me produce more and hotter flames, but a temporary effect wouldn’t be worth that price. What were you saying about the cute beetle?”

  “I believe its flames have purifying properties.” I paused, frowning. “I didn’t consider the possible effects of such flames on my alchemy, to be honest. If Morty had shown that off before we purchased the little guy, I might not have made the purchase.”

  Belladonnas didn’t use ‘special’ flames. I knew such flames existed, and I knew they could have many interesting effects on the brewing process. But that was all I’d gleaned from my training in the Belladonna household.

  As far as I knew, my family had only ever employed everflames. Everflame was based on the use of pure mana, which minutely enriched the concoction being brewed without altering its properties. And it was, at least for a wealthy family of alchemists, ‘cheap’ to secure and use in large quantities. Each of our labs back home was equipped with several everflames.

  “I have to admit, though…” I knelt down by the bathtub, marveling at Alys’ handiwork. “Seeing you use your flames like this has been inspiring. I didn’t use the beetle for my brewing today, because I didn’t want to tackle adapting to the effects of his flames while working on a new recipe. But I think experimenting with his abilities could be… rewarding.”

  She gave me a look I couldn’t decipher, followed by a pleased little smile. “Good.”

  “What?” I asked, a little defensively.

  “Oh, nothing. I was just thinking that you’re starting to look like you might actually enjoy alchemy. Like you’re looking forward to experimenting.” She hummed, still seeming decidedly pleased. “I didn’t like the look on your face for a while after you decided to work on poison.”

  I stared at my dragoness, not quite sure what to say.

  “Why do you look so shocked?” she laughed, apparently finding my expression richly amusing.

  “I… don’t know. I guess I didn’t think I was that transparent.”

  “You can put up a decent facade. You just looked really unhappy whenever poison and alchemy were brought up at the same time. I suppose I understand why, now.”

  “Yes, well…” I floundered, sighed, and let my shoulders droop. “Yes.”

  She turned away from the tub to look me in the eye. “I love my work. I admit I’ve been stressed about it for a while, but I would never give up woodworking. I hope you’ll trust me when I say… you’ll be much happier if you try to enjoy alchemy.”

  “I am trying,” I admitted. It felt oddly vulnerable to do so. “I think I’m starting to enjoy it. Especially now that I don’t have to spend all my time making poisons, and can just make whatever strikes my fancy, so long as it helps the town. And… I think I enjoy experimenting with new recipes.”

  “Why do you sound so guilty saying that?” Alys demanded.

  “Because experimentation can be dangerous. Inadvisable.” I gnawed on my lower lip. “It’s a distinctly human thing to do. My family always taught me that —”

  “The same family who wanted you to make nothing but poison and be an assassin?” she asked dryly, making me wince.

  “Well… yes. But that doesn’t mean they were wrong about this. I’ve been rushing things. The healing potion, and this new paste I’ve been working on… They were relatively safe projects, but experimenting with new alchemical products can be explosive. Literally.”

  “Then try to do it safely,” she replied. “Take all the precautions you can. Brew… slower? I don’t know, I’m not an alchemist. I’m sure you can think of something.”

  “But…” I sputtered, stunned by her bluntness. “I mean…”

  “Thorn, you said yourself that you enjoy it.”

  “I said I think I enjoy it,” I protested sullenly.

  She gave me a deadpan look that made me drop my gaze. “Here’s the thing, fae mine: everyone needs to experiment with their craft to improve. Not everyone enjoys that. Feel lucky that you do. Besides, doing the same thing over and over again would definitely get boring, and even annoying, very quickly.”

  “That still doesn’t make the process any safer,” I muttered.

  “But do you want to do it?”

  I paused for a long moment. Then I finally looked up and met her golden, silver-flecked eyes.

  “Yes,” I admitted, feeling oddly relieved and terrified all at once. “I do.”

  I could admit it to myself now. The many possibilities offered by experimenting with ingredients… the new and exciting ingredients I might be able to find here on the frontier… testing the strange and unknown potions that would result from my work… These ideas all appealed to me.

  All that held me back were the lessons beaten into me throughout years of training. Lessons that urged caution and taking my time.

  After all, we were fae. We had generations to perfect our craft and slowly test our way to new recipes. We didn’t have to rush headlong into danger like human alchemists did.

  Besides, it hadn’t mattered if I could come up with a hundred different potions. All that had mattered was my usefulness to the family, and taking no risks with its future. The Belladonna heir getting blown up in an alchemy accident would have had some rather severe effects on the family’s plans.

  But I was no longer part of those plans.

  I was free.

  “I do enjoy experimenting,” I said, relishing the opportunity to say it aloud.

  “Then go ahead and do it.” Alys spoke just as bluntly as before, though not unkindly. “All I’m asking is that you take proper precautions and avoid any permanent damage to yourself. I’d ask you not to get hurt at all, but I’m starting to realize you are more reckless than I thought… and I thought you were pretty reckless,” she teased.

  My cheeks flushed. The strange mixture of warmth and excitement suddenly boiling through me was potent enough to make me dizzy.

  “I… thank you, Alys.”