“She must be doing something wrong!” Frustration was evident in Carnell’s voice as he paced back and forth, his new boots beating out a steady cadence on the stone floor.
For the fourth day in a row I’d created the potion in what I’d begun referring to as the Hocus Pocus Room. As far as I could figure, I was doing everything right. As far as Perrault was concerned, I was doing it right.
But for Carnell, the lack of substantive and measurable results was proof I wasn’t the Haruspex.
And in four days, I’d provided nothing. In the attempts after the first one, I hadn’t gotten so much as a bit of nausea, or smelled a hint of sulphur.
“She’s doing her best, Carnell.”
“Her best is not good enough!”
“Calm down, mon ami. Losing your temper will not help matters,” Perrault warned.
“London! W
