Siobhan, The goddess' handmaiden

13. To mix or not to mix?

Getting the consistency of a lotion right is challenging. The liquid is slowly simmering, not boiling. The instruction was clear on that. But how much snake venom goes into it? How much would bring the desired effect of smoothing out the skin, and how much is too much? It’s venom they are talking about. Poisoning Ereshkigal would be very bad.

“How much poison is too much?” Siobhan thinks out loud. She’s not expecting an answer, since she’s all alone today. The measurement, in her eyes, would be a few drops since she can’t extract the harmful molecules.

“Which poison?” Ereshkigal asks from the door.

“Temple Viper venom. It’s commonly used in modern skin care, but I can’t extract the actual poison. Most pharmaceutical companies produce a synthetic version that is not poisonous, but still has the same effect,” Siobhan explains.

“That is mostly harmless. It numbs the skin and muscles,” Ereshkigal shrugs. “I’d say half a vial.”

“Lotions based on venom take time and you have to use them every day to get the effect. But I know they work,” Siobhan nods. She is not completely sold on half a vial. Maybe a third to be safe?

“Wouldn’t cooking it kill the venom?” Ereshkigal inquiries.

“No. The mix is only slightly simmering. The clue is to not let it boil. It never gets hot enough to actually kill the venom,” she answers. Siobhan is sticking to the instructions letter by letter.

“Where is Naryshka?” The goddess wants to know.

“I have no idea. I think she got sick and tired of handing me stuff. Haven’t seen her in days,” Siobhan shrugs. The demoness was good company, but maybe she’s got something better to do?

“Do you need an assistant?” Ereshkigal looks around her workplace. Everything is in a state of organised chaos. It might look like a mess, but Siobhan knows where things are.

“Not really. I can do it myself. I only needed her to translate the labels. I regret not paying attention to modern Egyptian to the extent of learning to read it,” Siobhan answers. She’s not telling the goddess that she likes the company.

“Do you have anything finished?” Is the next question.

“A body lotion. It’s a moisturiser to make your skin softer,” she nods. The flask is clear, the label was done by hand, but she is proud of the product. It does what it’s supposed to do.

“I’ll test it for a few days,” Ereshkigal smiles. A genuine smile this time, too. The goddess is excited about something new. She doesn’t seem to care that the container is an ordinary glass bottle.

Left on her own again, Siobhan mixes the venom into the liquid. She opted for a third of the vial. Taking the mixture from the gas burner, she keeps stirring. Only when it cools down will it be ready. And it’s only then that she can gauge if she guessed the ratio right. It’s supposed to be a lotion. Will it stay liquid and smooth, or will it clog up and she’s left with something that might be a cream? Waiting around for the lotion to cool is annoying, but there is no way around it. If she uses magic, she might mess with the consistency. Cleopatra had no magic, so that means no shortcuts.

“She’s gone, right?” Naryshka asks, but Siobhan doesn’t see the demoness.

“Yeah. I gave her a lotion, so she’s busy,” Siobhan answers. The demoness materialises in front of her. “A cloaking spell, or a born ability to go invisible?”

“Ability. Most greater demons can do this,” Naryshka chuckles. “I was away for a few days. I got you something.”

“For me? What is it?” Siobhan looks at the demoness in wonder.

“A viper,” Naryshka laughs. A glass terrarium appears on the side table along with a cage of mice. “For the experiments. I figured a live snake is cheaper than the venom. So, here we are. With food for it, too.”

“Do you want to name the snake?” Siobhan winks. She wonders what name the demoness will come up with.

“Can I?” The excitement is contagious, but she mustn’t forget to stir the lotion. Naryshka dances around the laboratory and sings a song that has no meaning for Siobhan. The language is weird and there are no words that she recognises.

“It doesn’t have to have a name,” Siobhan chuckles.

“But it should. How about Tzion?” Naryshka smiles.

“I like it. The snake is not objecting either,” she nods. “I’m going stir crazy here. Maybe some company is good?”

“Was that a pun? I don’t understand human humour. Or were you sarcastic? I don’t understand that either,” Naryshka glares at her.

“Oh! Because I’m stirring?” Siobhan laughs. “No. I was cooped up in here for too long. I need to stretch my legs, lie down, and read. Anything other than cooking.”

“Can’t you take a break?” The demoness asks.

“Not until this thing cools down. Ereshkigal is busy with the first lotion, so that gives me a few days to relax. This one will be done and ready for her, and I can concentrate on my next project,” she explains. “The creams will take more creative thinking than the lotions.”

“What is the base?” Naryshka asks.

“For the creams? Coconut oil or goat fat. You got me both. I just have to figure out how much other things I can add so it goes back to almost solid, but not all the way,” she answers. The question is how much liquid can you add to a solid to get a cream?

“What happens if it hardens all the way?” The demoness inquires. She does have good questions, Siobhan thinks.

“We get an expensive bar of soap,” Siobhan chuckles. “It might not be so bad, anyway. I used to be good at making soap.”

“Can we do that tomorrow? I’ve got places to be,” Naryshka winks at her. Is that flirting, or should she know what else the wink means?

“I’m not holding you back. I’ll go to the library and relax with a book,” Siobhan smiles. The demoness is slowly growing on her. There might be a great friendship. She’s not gonna think about what else Naryshka does with her time. The demoness must be fairly important around here if she can come and go at her pleasure. Not many demons have access to the palace.

Siobhan closes the lid on the bottle and labels it. The lotion looks almost clear in colour, but with a bluish tint to it. That’s probably from the dried violets. It certainly smells like them. She wonders if it really works in smoothing out the wrinkles? Ereshkigal doesn’t have any. The lotions and creams are a thing of vanity. It probably won’t do anything for her, because she’s dead. Nakir made her look the way she was when he met her, minus the flaming red hair now. There were just a few laugh wrinkles around her eyes at that time. Nothing major, or important. It’s just curiosity, she tells herself. Nothing to worry about. Her looks don’t matter.