“Hey!” Celeste shouted, bolting to her feet. “What the hell was that for? That’s mine, you know. Give that back!”
When she reached out for it, I sidestepped her attempt, as graceful as any dancer. I unscrewed the top and took a sniff. If it were simply medication, it would smell of very little. Perhaps chemical compounds or maybe the earthy smell that came with decanted foliage, depending on what it was made of, but little else. Instead, I found myself smacked by a familiar scent, and though I couldn’t name the substrate that produced such an odor, I knew why I recognized it at once.
Magic.
Val’s words yesterday came rushing back to me. “…her magic might be weak for that reason.” The witch hadn’t believed it to be hereditary. She wasn’t able to explain how her magic might be weaker, not
