the smuggler’s bible


The big mugs are on the top shelf. Helle grabs one—her favorite, red horses painted on the side—and pours in a measure of the scalding liquid from her cauldron.

“That’s the easy part,” she says.

“Now it gets harder?”

“For you at least. The spell you let loose took me eight years to get right. So, you’re going to drink this potion, then you’re going to go and get my magic back.”

Bloodtooth picks up the mug and tries to look valorous.

“What’s wrong with your face?”

“It’s courage,” he says.

“Pal, you better save that for later.”