Chapter 32

Recipes for Revenge

Joan set off immediately for Mistletoe Lane. A happy, wooden sign hung from the wall, announcing her arrival. It depicted a lyre threaded through with holly, ivy and oak leaves, all signs that this was an alchemist shop run by a druid, or at least one with druidic knowledge. Window boxes planted with sunny dandelions and burdock stood outside, while hanging baskets stuffed with mugwort and daisies hung from either side of the green painted door.

She pushed it open with a smile, inhaling deeply. Inside, the shop smelt of sage, loam and honey. Bundles of herbs hung from the rafters. Books lined the walls to one side, while tables were stacked high with glittering potion bottles and piles of ingredients. The pungent scent of growing things made her feel homesick.

Sometimes, late at night, Joan dreamt about the forest. The peace she had felt there was profound, and she found it difficult to capture as a human. Her veins gushed with hormones and angst, her belly always needed feeding, her mind filled with urgent, shallow cares. Perhaps if she had been permitted to live a full life as a redwood things would be different. But, alas, she had been cut down in her prime. And here she was, fixated on revenge. The woodcutters were beyond her reach. But the Knights of Cake were not.

A tall elf in flowing druid’s robes looked up from behind the counter. His eyes were a sad earthy brown, and looked a bit pink around the edges, like he had just been crying. He wore a crescent moon circlet on his brow, and had a large white handkerchief sticking out the corner of his pocket. As Joan approached he dabbed at his eyes hurriedly, and then assembled a wobbly smile.

“Well, hello there. I’m Cathbit Wren, alchemist, healer and expert potion brewer. How can I help you?”

“Potions,” said Joan, without preamble. “I’m looking for beginner recipes, and ingredients. What do you have?”

“How long have you got?” asked Cathbit. “In fact–”

“I don’t have long,” said Joan.

“A lady who knows what she wants!” said the elf. He sniffed, looking mournful again.

“Yes,” said Joan, a bit impatiently. “What I want is revenge. And potions to help me get it. As fast as possible please. Oh, and maybe some healing potion recipes while I’m here.”

“Revenge, ey,” said Cathbit, stroking his chin. He brightened, and bustled over to the shelf with the books and scrolls. “I know just where to look.”

He threw aside Baking with Titus Andronicus, Lucrezia Borgia’s Guide to Garden Flowers and The Count of Monte Cristo’s Self Improvement Guide, With Herbs, to reveal a beautiful green leather tome, inlaid with gold. He laid it out on the table with a flourish, pushing aside some potted mushrooms and a pile of crystals to do so. “This should satisfy your every need,” he declared. The cover read Recipes for Healing, Health and Revenge.

“Perfect,” said Joan. “How much?”

“Fifty gold pieces,” Cathbit said.

Joan tapped a finger on her chin. That was her whole share of the loot from the queen’s drop. And just for the recipes, not even the ingredients.

“How do I know they are any good?” she asked. “That’s a lot of gold. How about 40 pieces?”

“I’m afraid I can’t accept less,” said Cathbit, tears welling up in his eyes. “I need every penny I get. But..Hmmm you can take a look. One on the house, to show you how good they are?” He flipped open the book. “For your eyeballs, and your eyeballs only…errr–” he read the random page. “A Recipe for Vitality!”

“1 part vodka, 0.5 parts coffee liqueur, cola, may cause jitters. Do not advise taking this draught after 5pm,” read Joan. She frowned at it. “Sounds…caffeine intense.”

“Hmmm… what about this one, oh yes, this is good,” said Cathbit, anxious to impress.

He ran his finger down the index. “I know it’s here somewhere…Sweet Revenge, Itching Powder, Easy Healing Potion, Revenge Best Served Cold, Aha!”

Ice Cold Revenge

Half a cup of salty tears,

2 teaspoons tabasco sauce,

1 small mandrake root, marinated in secrets

1 red-hot druid (check)

1 Eye of Newt

5g Stinging Nettles

50g Sour Grapes

A litre of Prune Juice

Extra salt as desired

Bring to the boil and then simmer for 2 days, occasionally stirring. Allow to cool thoroughly. Best served cold. In fact, for optimal results serve it to your enemies with ice and little blue paper umbrellas.

“Interesting,” said Joan. “Does it work well?”

“Oh yes! In fact, I can personally­–”

The shop door smashed open.

A broad-shouldered elf in a magnificent antlered headdress strode into the shop, accompanied by two muscular looking satyrs. They arranged themselves on either side of the elf, folded their arms and glared.

“Cathbit!” shouted the elf. “I knew I would find you here in this dusty hovel.”

“What do you want, Taliesin?” said Cathbit. “I’m with a customer. Why are you here? I still have time.”

“A few paltry hours!” declared the grinning Taliesin. “Save yourself the humiliation! You might as well hand over the deeds to your disgusting little shop right now! What Fedelma sees in you I don’t know…”

“Leave her out of this,” muttered Cathbit, from between clenched teeth. Joan looked from one to the other and rolled her eyes.

“Don’t be concerned about your ex shop assistant,” Taliesin said with a sneer. “She’ll be happy working for me. You don’t have to worry about a thing! I’ll take great care of her. Such a pity you couldn’t afford to pay her what she deserves, a fine fairy like that. So sad.” His eyes sparkled with malice. “How many beans do you have left, anyway? I’m surprised you are still alive. I didn’t think you had the guts to even try.”

“Get out of my shop,” said Cathbit, turning pink. “Before I call the watch.”

“This evening it will be my shop,” Taliesin reached over and patted Cathbit’s cheek with insulting familiarity. “I’ll see you at dusk.”

With a swish of his cloak the antlered elf exited the shop, trailed by his goons. The brief silence was interrupted by the blast of Cathbit blowing his nose into his massive white handkerchief. His lower lip wobbled.

“Sorry about that,” he trembled. “Where were we?”

“Are you okay?” asked Joan. She was tempted not to ask, but she knew better than to ignore the signs of a quest when they came knocking. Cathbit glanced out the window to make sure Taliesin was gone and then collapsed dramatically on top of a row of potted garlics.

“I’m not okay,” he howled. “I’m gonna lose my shop! I’m poor! I’m broke! My girlfriend has gone to work for my arch-enemy! My life is over!” He looked back up, to see if Joan was paying attention. She was. “Over!” he shouted, and buried his face in his hands, starting to cry in earnest.

Joan stood awkwardly. She reached out to pat his heaving shoulders, thought better of it and retracted her hand.

“Um. Oh no,” she said, feeling helpless. She looked around for the rest of her party and remembered they weren’t there. Fred was so much better at this stuff. Damn. “Well, I’m sure it's not all that bad. Objectively. Um, about those ingredients–”

“How can you be so heartless!” the elf wailed, flinging back one arm and knocking a potted orchid and a bottle of lemon juice off a shelf. Joan managed to catch the orchid but the lemon juice shattered on the floor. “Arrrrrrhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh,” he wailed into his arms. “I can’t do anything right! No wonder she doesn’t love me! I’m a failure! A loser! A cretin! An ingrate!”

“Okay, sorry, sorry,” said Joan, carefully positioning the orchid out of range. “I just don’t really have time for a side quest right now–” The sobbing intensified. “Okay, fine.” She heaved a massive sigh. “What happened?”

Cathbit straightened, with a loud sniff.

“I love plants,” he said.

“I can see that,” said Joan, approvingly.

“But I haven’t always had the best head for business. Everything was fine until Taliesin opened up his shop down the way. He doesn’t care about his work, he just lives for profit! Bank rolled by his rich parents! He used to be in line for the throne, the queen’s nephew, you know, um before–”

“Before the glorious revolution, yes,” said Joan. “I’ve heard of it.”

“But anyway, he lured away my customers with discount price herbs and dodgy half-baked potions, and then he went after my staff. He offered them twice the wages! The cad! And how could I blame them? Even my darling Fedelma. She needs the money to send to her sick mother in–”

“Alright, alright,” said Joan. “I really am in a hurry. Why are you going to lose the shop?”

“I made a bet,” said Cathbit. “I bet that I would be able to kill the sky giant. If I manage he would clear my debts. If I lost...he would take my shop.”

“The sky giant,” repeated Joan. “Oh boy. That sounds like a multiparty quest. And I take it you haven’t been able too?” Cathbit shook his head. Joan sighed.“Alright, tell me what I need to know.”

“High in the sky, somewhere above the clouds, is the giant’s castle. The giant is bloodthirsty. The giant is a man-eater.” Cathbit’s eyes swept her form, lingering a little too long on her chest. “A woman-eater too,” he added.

“Yes, I get it,” said Joan. “The giant is dangerous. Noted. What am I supposed to do when I get there?”

“Kill it,” said Cathbit, with a shrug. “How ever you like. That is the condition of the bet. But while you are there…the giant owns a variety of precious magical items. Valuable items – a hen that lays silver eggs, a pudding pot that fills itself whenever asked, and last but not least: the Bush of Many Uses!” He waggled his eyebrows at Joan. “This last item is of particular interest to me, and to many others.”

“What does it do?”

“It is a mundane looking thing,” Cathbit said, cupping his chin in his hands and staring out of the window, his eyes growing dreamy. “Nothing much to look at. A shrub, green-leaved with pink flower buds about the size of your fist. Similar to a rosebush, but it is the only one of its kind in the universe.”

“Alright? What is so special about it?”

“Anything you want it will make. All you have to do is wish.”

“You are kidding,” said Joan.

“No,” said Cathbit. “It’s real.” He leaned over to her. “I propose a deal. If you steal this wonderous shrub for me, kill the giant and bring it safely home, I will give you whatever you want in the shop. The recipe book, as many ingredients as you can carry -- what?”

Joan smiled at him across the counter, her body language nonchalant.

“Why wouldn’t I just keep the Bush of Many Ways for myself?” she asked. “Seems easier? Then I can make whatever I need without having to bother you.”

“Aha!” said Cathbit. “No. Sorry. It only works in fairy–” Joan opened her mouth and he waggled a finger at her. “Uh huh huh! Take it to the main dungeon and it becomes just a bush! Anything it gives you turns to dry leaves that will crumble on the breeze.”

“Darn,” said Joan. “I mean I might have guessed. Pity. So how does it work?”

“You wish,” said Cathbit. “You wish, and a bud will grow. Once the flower opens your heart’s desire will be inside. Gold, rare seeds, the latest copy of Botanist’s Weekly, a slice of cake from the shop you visited as a child and forgot the name of–”

“They have to be small?”

“What?”

“The things you desire? They have to fit in the bud? What if I desire a trebuchet?”

The elf hesitated.

“A real trebuchet?” he said.

“I’m not six,” said Joan. “Of course, a real trebuchet!”

“If you desired a trebuchet,” the elf looked down his nose at her, “or a unicorn, or a magic cow or a rainbow, the bush of many uses would make it in miniature. Once you had plucked it, it would grow to the required size.”

“So you can desire living things?” said Joan. “Interesting.” She pursed her lips speculatively.

“And it can only produce a few blossoms at a time. Like any plant, it needs food, sunlight and water. Seven flowers, if can produce at a time, if it is in full health.” He paused. “Any other questions?”

“No, I think I’m done,” said Joan. “For now.”

“Ominous,” said Cathbit. “But do we have a deal?”

“I kill the giant and get you your magical bush and you let me have the recipe book, the use of the crafting station and as many ingredients as I need? For as long as I need?”

“Yes! And gladly!”

“Then we do, in fact, have a deal.” They shook hands over a tray of baby mandrakes.

[ding! New Quest! Kill the Giant!]

[ding! New Quest! Steal the Bush of Many Uses from the Giant’s Castle!]

[ding! New Quest! Help Cathbit save his shop!]

“So,” said Joan. “How do I get to the giant’s castle?”

The elf rummaged in a drawer and then handed her three large, fat beans.

She looked at them with a scowl. “Great.”