Eleven
GRAY
“Crafting the perfect poison is both an art and a science.” Verona, who’d been supervising all the activity in the kitchen, set an armload of clean vials and jars on the counter before us, then handed me a sheet of instructions.
I scanned it carefully, memorizing the ingredients, measurements, and specific incantations necessary for crafting the deadly poisons our witches would be carrying into battle, just in case.
Not everyone had built-in offensive powers. But we’d make damn sure they weren’t left defenseless, either.
I closed my eyes, took a moment to set my intention for this deadly work, then grabbed the kitchen knife and a bottle of what looked like tiny twigs, ready to chop.
Everyone in the lodge was working on something—poisons, spells, protective charms, healing
