Chapter 912 On The Worktable

• Aris
• I lift the smaller skull and balance it in my hand while Posey moves in the background. The midmorning air is scented with the herbs she uses for her potions and hand creams. Little bells and chimes ping through the air as her timer goes off. I glance at her, the sunlight casting a halo around her face. She’s pouring a cooled tincture of whistlethorne and dried cherry into a large vial.
• It’s not even noon, and her fingers are already stained black.