Poison and Potions by J A Whiting

Author:J A Whiting [Whiting, J A]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: J A Whiting Books and Whitemark Publishing
Published: 2024-09-15T00:00:00+00:00

14

The sun was just beginning to set as Shelby made her way up the winding path that led to Magill's cottage. The air held the scent of wildflowers and herbs, and the gentle hum of bees and birds filled the air.

Shelby's mind was far from peaceful. She knew that Penny's life hung in the balance. The poison that coursed through her veins was slowly sapping her strength and vitality with each passing day.

So, with Harper by her side, she had come to seek the guidance and wisdom of Magill, the most powerful psychic and intuit in New England; the person, along with Fiona, who had helped her understand and develop her own skills. She knew that if anyone could help her find a way to help Penny, it was Magill.

As the young woman and the cat approached the cottage, the door swung open, and Magill stepped out to greet them. The woman had long, silver hair that flowed over her shoulders like a river of moonlight. Her eyes were a deep, piercing blue, and her face was etched with wisdom and knowledge.

"Shelby, my dear," she said, her voice warm and welcoming. "I've been expecting you. Hello, Harper. Come in, come in.

Shelby followed Magill inside, with Harper trailing close behind. The cottage was warm and inviting, with candles aglow and the scent of herbs and spices in the air.

Magill motioned for Shelby to sit, and she sank into a soft, comfortable chair by the hearth. Harper curled up at her feet, her eyes wide and watchful as she took in the familiar surroundings.

"Now," Magill said, her voice gentle but firm, "tell me what troubles you. What brings you to my door on this fine evening?"

Shelby took a deep breath, her heart heavy with the weight of her fears and doubts. "It's Penny," she said softly, her voice trembling with emotion. "As you know, she's been poisoned, and I'm afraid she won't recover. I need your help. I need to find a way to help her."

Magill's face grew serious, her eyes darkening with concern. "I know that Penny has been infected with anthrax," she said softly. "This is grave news indeed, but do not despair. There is always hope even in the darkest of times. I will recite a spell for her."

She rose from her chair and moved to a small table in the corner of the room where a collection of candles and herbs lay scattered across the surface. She began to light the candles, her movements slow and deliberate as she recited a soft, melodic chant under her breath.

Shelby watched in fascination as the candles flickered to life with a soft glow that spread a warm, comforting light across the room. She felt a sense of peace and calm wash over her, a feeling of safety and protection that seemed to emanate from Magill.

"Magill," Shelby said, her voice hesitant. "I'm worried that even with spells, Penny might not have the strength to fight off the poison. Is there anything else we can do to help her?"

Magill paused.

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