When she finally pushed open the heavy wooden doors of her apothecary, the oppressive darkness of the unlit shop swallowed her whole. She moved carefully by memory, sliding the heavy iron bolt into place to secure the front door.
She navigated through the quiet storefront and slipped behind the linen curtain into the back courtyard. The brick hearth had burned down to a pile of glowing, pulsing red embers.
Old Lady Lin and Ren had already retired to the small adjoining storage rooms they had claimed as their sleeping quarters. But as Heena stepped up to the stone counter, she paused.
Sitting right beside her neatly rolled-up leather canvas of knives was a small clay cup.
Heena reached out and touched the rim. It was warm. Beside it sat a small, folded piece of coarse paper. She leaned closer to the dying embers of the hearth to catch the dim red light, squinting at the elegant, perfectly brushed calligraphy on the paper.
For the pain in your back. Drink it while it is warm.
