Scholomance 9 by Logan Jacobs (read books for money .TXT) 📕

of seaweed before she tossed them into the water, and when it appeared like she was satisfied with the amount of seaweed in the cauldron, she grabbed her wand with her bloody hand and aimed it underneath the pot.

“Illuminana!” she said in a loud and confident voice.

A small fire burst beneath the black cauldron, and a foul, fish-like smell wafted through the cool air. Bubbles brewed over the water’s surface, which was slowly changing into a sickly pale-green color. Then Penelope dipped her bloody hand into the brew without a word, and I watched with wide eyes as the potion turned from green to vibrant red.

“Why did you cut your hand before you began to concoct the brew?” Circe asked with a raised blonde eyebrow. “As far as I recall, I’ve never seen that done before.”

“Every ingredient I touch needs to be tainted with my blood,” Penelope explained as she stared long and hard at the lilac shell.

The ocean shell glimmered beneath the white-wine sunshine, and its beauty and rarity radiated off its exterior before Penelope slowly picked it up and sighed.

“What’s wrong?” Vanessa asked. “Is it the wrong ingredient? Do we need to find another shell?”

“No…” Penelope muttered with a bitter groan. “It’s just such a shame. These are very unusual shells. You can only find them in realms as north as this--”

“Which is all well and fascinating,” the professor interjected impatiently, “but we must carry on, Miss Penelope. There is no time to waste.”

“Yes, of course.” The orange-haired witch nodded. “My apologies, Professor.”

“None necessary,” Vanessa answered. “Just keep focusing.”

Penelope nodded once more before she cracked the shell like it was an egg, and a glittering sludge seeped from the split opening and then dripped into the potion. The water quickly changed from sunset red to shimmering purple in the blink of an eye, and we held our breaths as the bright-haired witch mumbled an incoherent spell until the bubbles began to brew more violently.

“Now, I will need…” Penelope muttered to herself as her bloody hand hovered over the remaining ingredients. “Ah, yes, the egg of eel.”

The egg was relatively large and shaped more like a diamond than an oval, and it was colorfully-scaled and almost looked like it was made from stone. Penelope bit on her bottom lip as she carefully lifted the egg and tore the membrane around it, and I expected something vicious to spill out, but instead, a small, live eel wailed and curled its slim, slimy body in a panic.

Alexander gasped in my head as Penelope snatched the creature from its broken home and quickly thrust it into the boiling brew. The little beast screeched as it burned alive, and when the noise came to a dead stop, Penelope glanced down at the other ingredients splayed out on the sand.

“How much longer do you think this will take?” I asked in a gentle tone just so she wouldn’t assume I was rushing her.

“Not much longer now, master,” Penelope replied. “Only the pearl is left.”

“Excellent,” Vanessa said without giving me a chance to respond, “and we still have plenty of daylight left. Well done, Miss Penelope.”

“Don’t applaud me just yet,” the orange-haired Wicca sighed. “We still need to make sure it works.”

“Of course, it will work,” I said as I stared down at the lovely and intelligent witch. “You’ve always exceeded my expectations. I have all my unholy faith in you.”

“Thank you, master.” Penelope blushed before she gave a long and drawn-out sigh. “Alright, let’s see if this works… everyone should take a small step back.”

When we were at a safe distance, the determined witch carefully wrapped her bloody hands around the snow-white pearl. It was about the same size as the orb we used to travel here, but judging by Penelope’s labored breathing, it was twice as heavy. Her arms trembled as she held the pearl over her head and prepared to drop it into the potion, and once she let go, the brew splashed in every direction, and Penelope scrambled to get back.

A giant haze of deep, plum-colored smoke exploded into existence, and it spread like an inky cloud toward us. We coughed and coughed as it grew, and the pungent, metallic smell reminded me of bloody water.

“Fuck,” Akira hacked, and she tried to wave the smoke out of her face. “Was that a good sign, Penelope?”

“Yeah,” the orange-haired witch coughed. “It means it worked.”

“Let’s just wait for the potion to clear, and then we can drink it before we begin practicing spells,” Vanessa instructed.

“So, this p-p-potion?” Circe choked. “What is it s-s-supposed to do again?”

“A restitutio industria gives one special defensive strength,” Morgana explained in a tight voice. “It will prevent us from passing out once we initiate the ancient incantations. Right, master?”

“That’s the gist of it,” I rasped, and it felt like my lungs were filled with dark-purple smoke. “You’ll see as soon as this smoke disappears.”

“It should be gone in a few more seconds,” Penelope said in a sure voice. “Just inhale it… it’s a part of the process.”

“It’s impossible not to,” Akira grunted as her black eyes welled with tears.

We waited a few more seconds as the air cleared, and then we looked back at the bubbling cauldron and its black-ink brew. The texture was thick, and I knew it wasn’t going to feel pleasant going down our throats, but we needed to do whatever needed to be done to wipe out Samara’s fucking scouts.

“This potion is pure darkness,” Penelope explained in a faint voice like it was a dangerous secret. “It stems from underneath the bottom of the ocean and all the way down to hell. This is pure river water from Satan’s domain. It’s lethal to anyone who doesn’t possess magical abilities, and just as a warning… it’s going to burn like a fucker once