Total pages in book: 182
Estimated words: 171176 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 856(@200wpm)___ 685(@250wpm)___ 571(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 171176 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 856(@200wpm)___ 685(@250wpm)___ 571(@300wpm)
“It’s easier just to show you. So how do you work those leaves? I saw you dry them. Then you . . . what, just boil and steam them?”
“Dry them at different times of the day, inside or out, to alter the properties as we need. Then we boil or simmer or cold-brew them and mix them with various other ingredients that further enhance the properties.”
“Ah.” I nodded. “I knew there was some complexity to it. So, you really need a vast understanding of plants.”
“Yes.”
“Gotcha. Have you tried burning it?”
She stared at me for a moment. “No.”
“Freezing it? Pressurizing it? Lighting it on fire and then quickly freezing it?”
Still staring. “No.”
“Micro-blowing it up?”
“What is that?” Vemar leaned over.
I grinned at him. “You’ll love that. No glass to pick out of one’s person.”
“No,” Finley responded.
I nodded as the others walked back in, placing down bunches of greenery without a speck of dirt in sight. “Think of all the possibilities left for you to explore. What is this?”
Arleth and Delaney paused, Arleth still holding the list. She frowned, looking over it and checking what was on the table. “The fresh ingredients are there”—she gestured at the pile—“and we’re grabbing the dried ones now.”
“The dried ones?” I picked through the “fresh” ingredients. “This is undoubtedly a dumb question, but is this their natural color? I assume the vibrant green probably is, but the flowers of this one are blue. I thought they were supposed to be a light sort of purple?”
It turned out Raz and his helpers were very bad gardeners, and Vemar and Hannon thought my confusion—especially as it concerned the necessity of drying plants—was hilarious.
“At least I don’t have to wash off the dirt,” I finally said. “Thanks for that. Time saver. Okay, let’s get started with the expectation that this might go horribly wrong with these healthy plants and I might need to tweak the instructions.”
Thankfully, I didn’t have to tweak as much as I’d thought. In fact, in many cases the plants were easier to work with, probably because they weren’t half dead and had more moisture with which to reduce the heat. I didn’t have to be nearly as careful.
When I’d finished the instruction, Finley looked at the others, eyebrows raised. “That was . . .”
“Technical,” Arleth said quietly.
“Complicated.” Delaney shook her head.
“What happens next?” Finley asked.
“Oh. Well then I just do it again and again until the order is filled,” I replied. “For this one, I’ll use the plants up, since they’re picked. You can decide if I keep it all for myself or if you trust me enough to let others consume it. For the other products, I guess I’ll just show you how with a sample, since you don’t want to do anything with it?”
We did several batches of the next products, and each time only Finley seemed to catch on—but only moderately so. It was clear these ladies’ talents were in experimenting with various plant properties: how best to grow them, how they were used best and what for. I was better at the more technical applications of pressure and heat, and had to rely on books to tell me the facts they had in their heads. All of it was just as complex, but a completely different facet of production. It was fascinating. I couldn’t wait to learn more.
At the end of my agreed-upon day, I tidied everything up and started on the labels for what we’d finished but hadn’t cut into batches.
“What are you doing?” Vemar looked over my handiwork. Finley turned to see, pausing in hanging something on a line to dry.
“Just labeling so we know what is what tomorrow morning.”
He watched for a moment, his version of trying to figure out what I’d said. “Why?” he finally asked.
I paused and then half straightened up. “Oh.” I looked at Finley watching me, and then the workstations of the others who’d gone out for a while. “Uh . . .” I dropped my hands. “Force of habit, I guess. In the village I’d label the product just in case Raz whirlwinded through and ransacked my desk for items I might use to kill him with—the drugs made him uncommonly paranoid. Or maybe I did. Either way, I always labeled the products so I’d know what was what after he'd scattered it around.”
There was that damn look again.
I hated that look.
“Never mind.” I bent to continue the labels.
Vemar’s hand covered my wrist. “No, Captive Lady,” he said quietly. Compassionately. “You don’t need to do that here. If you are hiding things with which to kill us, we will laugh with glee when you try to use them.”
I huffed, chuckling and pulling my hands away again.
“Yeah, I guess— Actually, no.” I pushed his hand gently away and went back to my labels. “Sorry, this is part of my process, and it’ll mess with my head if I don’t do it. I’ll spend all evening worrying about it and end up here in the middle of the night writing out labels because the job wasn’t finished.”