Chapter 488: The First Assignment

Neria arrived at the apothecary twenty minutes earlier than Oras had requested.

He noticed.

Naturally.

He was at the back of the shop, standing before a table where he had left a long wooden box open. When Neria entered, still adjusting the strap of her bag on her shoulder, Oras looked first at her, then at the clock on the wall, and finally back at the box.

"Twenty minutes."

Neria stopped.

"Early."

"I can count."

"You complained when I arrived twelve minutes late."

"Arriving too early is a waste of time too."

She narrowed her eyes.

"You're a very difficult person to please."

"That's why I still have an apothecary."

Neria placed her bag near the wall and approached. A thick cloth covered something inside the box, and the scent escaping from it was too faint to identify immediately. Earthy. A little sweet. Something bitter underneath.

"Is this it?"

"It is."

"Where did it come from?"

"A supplier from Hadrin sent it along with a batch of brown myrtle roots. Said it was growing among them and might be useful."

"And you don't know what it is."

"If I knew, I wouldn't have asked you to come early."

Neria looked at him.

"You could have said that in the message."

"You came even without me saying it."

"That doesn't mean it was a good message."

Oras pulled away the cloth.

Beneath it lay four whole plants, uprooted and already beginning to wilt. Their stems were thin and grayish-green, with small leaves arranged in pairs. The roots, however, were much too thick for the rest of the plant, divided into three pale branches covered in tiny reddish spots.

Neria froze.

Oras noticed.

"You recognize it."

She didn't answer immediately.

She picked up one of the plants by the base of its stem, brought it closer to her face, and smelled it. Then she gently scraped her fingernail across one of the roots, opening a tiny line along its surface.

An almost transparent liquid emerged.

Neria touched it with the tip of a piece of paper, never with her fingers.

"Maybe."

"Name?"

"I don't want to say yet."

Oras's eyebrow rose.

"Why?"

"Because if I say it and I'm wrong, I'll start looking for evidence to confirm what I've already decided."

Oras stared at her for a few seconds.

"Who taught you that?"

Neria thought of Vermillion.

Then Aria.

Then Damon repeatedly telling her not to turn a hypothesis into an answer just because it was convenient.

"Several people."

"Useful."

She picked up the second plant.

The leaves had small irregularities along their edges. Not insect bites. They were part of the growth itself. Neria turned one over to examine its underside.

Three reddish lines ran along the central vein.

Her heart began beating a little faster.

"I need water."

Oras pointed toward a side counter.

"Hot?"

"Cold."

He brought a small bowl.

Neria cut a tiny fragment from the root, placed it in the water, and waited. For almost a minute, nothing happened.

Then the fragment began releasing a very faint blue color.

Oras leaned closer.

"Interesting."

Neria exhaled.

"Meravel."

"That's not in the catalog."

"I know."

"Another old name?"

"Not exactly."

She continued watching the water.

"It was rare when I was young."

Oras pulled up a chair.

"Uses?"

Neria hesitated.

"Depends on the part."

"That's usually a terrible start."

"The leaves were used to reduce muscle spasms. The root, in small quantities, helped stabilize certain forms of shock caused by energy loss."

Oras became attentive.

"And in large quantities?"

"Respiratory paralysis."

He immediately moved his hand away from the plant.

Neria looked at him.

"You weren't touching it."

"Now I definitely won't."

"It isn't that dangerous when it's whole."

"You just said respiratory paralysis."

"In high doses."

"That phrase has killed a lot of people."

Neria didn't argue.

Oras picked up a piece of paper and began writing.

"Why doesn't it appear in modern records?"

"I don't know."

"Extinct?"

"Maybe in some regions."

"Do you hate that word?"

Neria looked at him.

"Someone else does."

"Then use it more."

She ignored him.

"Meravel needed a specific type of soil. It usually appeared near other plants with deep roots, but not because it was parasitic. It took advantage of certain minerals brought up by those other roots."

"Brown myrtle."

"Could be."

Oras looked at the box.

"So my supplier found four plants that might be considered lost and uprooted them."

Neria made a face.

"Maybe."

"Now I understand why your friend hates that word."

"He's not my friend."

Oras looked at her.

Neria stopped.

"I mean... he is."

"Tragic."

"Focus."

"I am focused."

Oras turned the paper over.

"How do we confirm it?"

Neria looked at the plant again.

"Not through my memory."

The words came out more firmly than she'd expected.

Oras didn't react.

She continued.

"We need old records and a comparison with modern species. Maybe it's been reclassified. Maybe it exists under another name. Maybe it just looks similar."

"Aria?"

Neria closed her eyes.

"Does everyone know about her now?"

"You complained about her for almost half an hour last week."

"I didn't complain for half an hour."

"Twenty-three minutes."

"You counted?"

"No."

She stared at him.

Oras almost smiled.

Almost.

Neria picked up her tablet.

"I'll send a message."

"Excellent."

"But I'm not going to say we found meravel."

"Why?"

"Because we don't know that yet."

Oras nodded.

This time, without a joke.

Neria wrote only that she needed botanical records predating the standardization of nomenclature and asked whether there were any references to a plant with pale roots divided into three sections, reddish leaf veins, and a blue reaction in cold water.

Aria replied in less than two minutes.

YES. WHERE DID YOU FIND IT?

Neria showed the screen to Oras.

"Mistake."

"What?"

"She's interested."

Another message appeared.

DON'T THROW ANYTHING AWAY. I'M COMING.

Neria closed her eyes.

"I knew it."

Oras pulled up another chair.

"Does she work here too?"

"No."

"Good."

Aria arrived accompanied by Aurelia.

Neria considered that an unnecessary escalation.

Aurelia disagreed before she could even complain.

"I was already with Aria."

"That doesn't make it better."

"It does for me."

Damon appeared eight minutes later.

Neria stared at him from the apothecary doorway.

"Why?"

"Aria ran out carrying three books."

"That happens every week."

"She said 'ancient plant' before leaving."

"You need to develop some hobbies."

"I have several."

Oras observed Damon from behind the counter.

"Is this the one who complains?"

Neria closed her eyes.

Damon slowly turned.

"She's talked about me."

"Frequently."

Neria pointed toward the box.

"Plant."

Damon smiled.

"We'll talk later."

"No."

Aria was already examining the leaves.

Confirmation didn't come quickly.

And that left Neria strangely satisfied.

For almost two hours, they compared descriptions, drawings, regional names, and trade records. The plant appeared under four different names over nearly two hundred years. Meravel was one of them, but not the oldest. The last reliable reference was eighty-six years old and indicated that the species had disappeared from three regions following changes in cultivation practices and soil composition.

It wasn't officially extinct.

There simply weren't any recent records.

"So it's meravel," Oras said.

Aria raised a finger.

"Probably."

Damon began laughing.

Neria looked at him.

"Don't start."

"I didn't say anything."

"Your face."

Aurelia examined the roots.

"There's a difference."

Neria became attentive.

"What?"

"These red spots."

Neria moved closer.

Aurelia showed her an old illustration.

In the earlier descriptions, the roots were completely pale.

Aria began searching for another reference.

Neria didn't.

She smelled the plant again.

Then cut an even smaller fragment from one of the spots.

"Oras, another bowl."

He brought one.

This time, Neria used warm water.

The fragment turned yellow.

Aria stopped searching.

"What does that mean?"

"I don't know."

Everyone fell silent.

Damon smiled.

Neria looked at him.

"No."

"I didn't say anything."

"You're far too happy."

"Progress."

She returned her attention to the plant.

The difference didn't appear to be a disease. Nor did it look like decomposition. It could be an adaptation to the current soil, some change accumulated over generations, or crossbreeding with a related species.

None of those possibilities made the plant any less interesting.

Nor did they automatically make it safe.

Oras closed the box.

"Then I won't use it."

Neria looked at him.

"Are you going to throw it away?"

"No."

"You said you would."

"Before I asked for your opinion."

She fell silent.

Oras pointed toward the box.

"Now my opinion has changed."

Neria couldn't suppress a small smile.

"So what do we do?"

"First, I'll find out exactly where the supplier found it."

Aria was already writing.

"I can map the region."

Oras looked at her.

"Who are you again?"

"Aria."

"Do you work here?"

"No."

"Then stop working."

Damon turned away and began laughing.

Neria decided at that moment that she liked Oras even more.

The supplier replied late that afternoon.

The plants hadn't come from Hadrin itself, but from a rural property almost a day's journey north. They had appeared in a cultivated area that had been abandoned for about six years, mixed among the brown myrtle that had grown naturally after the land stopped being used.

There were more.

How many, the supplier didn't know.

Oras read the message twice.

Then looked at Neria.

"Do you want to go?"

It took her a moment to understand.

"Me?"

"You recognized it."

"Aria would probably be better at keeping records."

"I didn't ask about Aria."

Damon, leaning near the door, remained quiet.

Neria looked at the box again.

"Would it be work?"

"Yes."

"Paid?"

"Yes."

"How much?"

Oras raised that eyebrow.

Damon broke into a grin.

Neria realized too late.

"Don't say anything."

"I'm very proud."

"Go away."

Oras ignored them both.

"Your normal day's pay plus expenses. If I think you've been useful, a bonus."

"That's vague."

"Commerce."

Neria thought.

It wasn't a journey to prove she could stay away from Eir.

It wasn't recovery.

It wasn't tourism.

Someone wanted her to go somewhere else because she knew something that might be useful.

"When?"

"Three days."

Neria nodded.

"I'll go."

Oras picked up the box.

"Excellent."

Damon waited until they left the apothecary.

Only then did he speak.

"First business trip."

Neria looked at him.

"Sounds strange."

"You're going to get paid to walk around, look at plants, and complain about names."

"When you put it like that..."

"Perfect job."

She laughed.

Then grew a little more serious.

"I want to tell Eir."

"Then tell her."

"She'll want to know where."

"Naturally."

"She'll be worried."

"Naturally."

Neria walked a few steps in silence.

"But I think she'll like it."

Damon thought about how much Eir had changed since their first trip to the sea.

"Probably."

Neria looked at him.

"You used the word."

"My mistake."

She smiled.

This time, Damon wouldn't be needed.

Perhaps Aria wouldn't be either.

Oras would go because he was responsible for the apothecary.

Neria would go because he trusted what she knew.

And that, Damon realized, was a difference small enough to seem ordinary.

Which was precisely why it mattered so much.