The Immortal Realm by Frewin Jones Page B

insistence Earl Valentyne had been taken to a separate room, where she remained at his side behind a locked door.
    Tania looked through the glaze of gold at the faces of the sleeping patients. They seemed peaceful, giving the impression that Oberon’s enchantment had washed them clean of the sickness that was really only being held at bay.
    A table had been set up on trestles under a window. It was filled with beakers and vials and bottles and jars of liquid and dried herbs and powders. Hopie pounded a mixture with mortar and pestle.
    As Titania saw them enter, she stepped forward. “Tania, you should not be here,” she said. “We cannot risk you falling ill.”
    Hopie pushed her long hair out of her eyes with one arm, her fingers darkly stained by her work. “No, Mother, by your leave, let her stay. She may be able to assist me.”
    Tania looked beseechingly at her mother. “Please? I have to do something to help.”
    The Queen nodded. “So be it. Stay, then, for a little while.”
    â€œPut the books on the floor by the table,” said Sancha. They spread the ancient leather-bound volumes on the floor. Sancha knelt, opening some of the books, leaning in close to read the fine gothic script.
    Tania stood at Hopie’s side. A sharp, tangy scent rose from the stone mortar.
    â€œWhat can I do?” Tania asked.
    â€œI have mixed and brewed such potions and nostrums as I know,” Hopie said. “But I am working in darkness, Tania. I need you to tell me all that you know of the remedies that Mortals use for such ailments.”
    â€œI don’t really know anything about medicine,” Tania said. “It’s all chemicals.”
    â€œIndeed,” Hopie said with a hint of impatience in her voice. “But even in the Mortal World, these chemicals must surely come from natural sources? I must try to find these sources and replicate the formulas used by Mortal apothecaries. Think, now, Tania. Is there anything you can remember, any medicinal herb or plant or root of the Mortal World that grows also in Faerie? Something that I can use?”
    â€œI’m not sure,” said Tania. “I know that aspirin has something to do with tree bark, but I don’t have any idea which tree. And I have no idea at all how antibiotics are made.”
    â€œA tincture of the bark of willow and myrtle relieves pain,” Hopie mused. “I know this, already, Tania. I need more.”
    â€œI don’t know any more,” said Tania, becoming frustrated by her own ignorance.
    â€œWhat of the petals of the nasturtium flower?” said Sancha, looking up from her books. “A healer from centuries past wrote, ‘combined with honey and pure water, these petals purify the lungs and will eradicate fevers.’”
    â€œGood. Good, Sancha. I will add a tincture of nasturtium,” Hopie said. “Tania, hand me the bottle with the red liquid in it.”
    Tania watched as Hopie made up a new mixture, but she could not help glance every now and then at the golden cocoons, beautiful but sad in the blue light.
    â€œHow will you know when you’ve got the right formula?” she asked her sister. “Can you treat people while they’re inside that… light .” She didn’t quite know what to call the glowing shells of the Gildensleep.
    â€œI will not have to,” said Hopie. “I will know when the potion is true.” She looked at Tania. “Did you think that my gift resided only in my hands, sister? Nay, it runs through my whole body. I will know if I find the cure. I will feel it in my soul.”
    Sancha looked up again. “It is written here that the feather of an ossifrage can be of assistance in treating colic.” She frowned. “I do not know what manner of bird an ossifrage is.”
    â€œI do!” exclaimed Tania. “It was in a crossword. My mum does them all the time.” She looked at Titania.