As they returned with Glamshara bound, it was enough to draw Zogmar out of his workshop as they approached the palace.

“Oh, well done!” he exclaimed gleefully. “Well done indeed!”

“Thank you, Zogmar,” Justin replied with a small smile. “We couldn’t have done it without your help.”

Grashuk shot a dark look at the potions master, and for the first time, Zogmar seemed to notice his presence, his brow furrowing in confusion.

“Your antidote worked well on Grashuk here,” Justin added.

“The one in the blowgun?” Zogmar stammered.

Justin chuckled. “Oh, no. We used one of these.” He reached into Zogmar’s satchel and pulled out a glowing green potion. “Truly, you’re a master of your craft.”

“Right,” Zogmar muttered, uneasy. “Well, glad everything’s squared away.”

“Not quite,” Justin said, pausing deliberately. Zogmar shifted uncomfortably. “We’re headed to see Queen Grizshara to present the evidence. As the potions master, your testimony will be invaluable.”

Zogmar hesitated, realizing that refusing might make him appear suspicious. “Of course. I’d be happy to provide my expertise.”

Glamshara glared at him but remained silent.

Justin smiled. “Good. Let’s walk over together, shall we?”

With Zogmar joining them, though sullenly, they made their way to the throne room. In a matter of minutes, everyone involved in the investigation was assembled. Zildur and even Ralthog were present, standing before Queen Grizshara on her throne.

At last, Justin broke the silence. “We have concluded our investigation, Queen Grizshara.”

The queen’s gaze fell on Glamshara, bound and dejected. “What do you have to say for yourself, sister? If you wish to escape with your skin, you had better have the Moonflower.”

Glamshara remained silent, likely out of shame.

“She doesn’t have it, Queen Grizshara,” Justin said. “But there is still hope for Nyrissa.”

All eyes turned toward him, filled with curiosity.

“Speak,” Grizshara commanded, leaning forward.

“First,” Justin began, “I want to clarify that Glamshara isn’t innocent. She had the means to create the antidote for Nyrissa but chose not to—for her own reasons. The Heart of the Moonflower, as we’ve learned, is a critical ingredient in a potion she was already working on. When the Princess was poisoned, she rushed to her lab in the Underdeep to finish it, intending to brew the antidote afterward. However, complications arose. She used all the Heart of the Moonflower for her own brew, which I have right here.”

Justin produced a rainbow-glowing potion from his satchel.

“And what is that?” Grizshara asked. “Will it heal my daughter?”

“We’re uncertain what this potion will do, but giving it to your daughter would be too dangerous. While it contains the Heart of the Moonflower, there is a safer alternative.”

Zogmar shifted uncomfortably but kept listening.

“Zogmar,” Justin said, holding up the ancient dwarven tome retrieved from the lab. “Have you seen this book before?”

Zogmar glanced at it, surprise flickering across his face. He hesitated. “Yes. I saw it in the excavation site.”

Damn. Justin had hoped he’d lie, but Zogmar was too shrewd for that.

“You can read dwarven, right?”

“Yes,” Zogmar confirmed. “It’s practically a requirement for brewing complex potions.”

“What is the title of this book?”

“It might translate as The Legendary Draughts of Etheria.”

“Did you read it?”

“I skimmed it. The theories seemed far-fetched, but it was interesting.”

“And what did you do with the book after? Did you share it with Glamshara?”

“No. It seemed bogus. I discarded it somewhere in the lab.”

Zogmar’s tone was casual, as if the book were unimportant. He was playing his cards carefully, wary of a trap.

“So, the book wasn’t important to you?”

“Clearly, you think it is,” Zogmar replied. “But the dwarves’ failed experiments are evidence of its folly.”

“Please, just answer the question.”

“I can’t say whether it’s important because you’re withholding information. At the time, I thought it might be important. After a closer look, I realized it was nonsense. The Legendary Draughts are just that. Legends.”

“Well, for everyone here, I’ll say that you seemed to think it was important when you found it.” Justin turned to Borgruk. “Borgruk, can you describe Zogmar’s reaction when you found this tome?”

“He scolded me for touching important artifacts, then put it in his satchel.”

“I don’t deny that,” Zogmar said, smiling faintly. “As I’ve already said, I thought it might be important. But after further inspection, I discarded it. My priority was cataloging the alchemical agents.”

“And you and Glamshara were arguing?”

“Nothing unusual,” Zogmar said with a shrug. “We have a bit of a rivalry, but that’s to be expected.”

Justin turned to Glamshara. “Can you describe the nature of your argument with Zogmar?”

“He was angry because I questioned his abilities. I have skills and boons from my class that make me more qualified to lead. Zogmar didn’t like that.”

“That must have bothered you,” Justin said to Zogmar. “Being overshadowed by Glamshara, even if you are technically the potions master. She has the Alchemist core, and you don’t.”

“These aren’t controversial facts,” Zogmar said. “I bear no ill will toward Glamshara. She’s valuable to the tribe.”

“And yet,” Justin pressed, “if she were to disappear—or get blamed for Nyrissa’s poisoning—what would you stand to gain?”

“Nothing,” Zogmar replied. “The tribe would lose a talented Alchemist.”

“And you’d take her place as the tribe’s only potion maker. But killing her would be too obvious, so you targeted the Princess instead. The blame would naturally fall on Glamshara, who has long coveted her sister’s throne and has expertise with poisons.”

“Baseless accusations,” Zogmar shot back. “I am loyal to both the tribe and the queen. I’d never poison Nyrissa.”

Justin turned to Glamshara. “Where did you find the book?”

“On the main alchemy table. As an Alchemist, of course I opened it to see what I could learn.”

“That’s an odd place for Zogmar to ‘discard’ the tome, don’t you think? It seems more like he intentionally placed it there for you to discover.”

This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“I object to that,” Zogmar snapped, his voice laced with barely concealed anger. “You cannot know my intentions. I simply set it down where it was most convenient, and that was the alchemy table.”

“Perhaps,” Justin allowed. “Glamshara, what did you find in the book?”

“I thought I’d discovered a recipe for the Everlasting Draught. Given the ingredients of the lab, and that tome, I guessed the lab was set up for brewing that potion.”

“And what did you do when you came up with this idea?”

“I shared it with the others. That’s when we were attacked by dwarven ghosts, what I presumed to be failed remnants of the dwarves’ experiments.”

“Would you say these are details Zogmar would have missed, or that they’d have slipped his mind?”

“No, they wouldn’t have slipped his mind. He would have understood the book’s significance, especially once we started cataloguing the ingredients.”

Zogmar remained silent. He had already claimed the book wasn’t important, but Glamshara’s words suggested otherwise. It was an inconsistency.

Justin turned back to Zogmar. “Why did you leave the book on the table? Why not share your findings with the group?”

“Because if I had, Glamshara would have dismissed my ideas. I left the book, so she’d figure out the lab’s purpose on her own.”

It was a plausible explanation, but Justin wasn’t buying it. “No, Zogmar. You left it there because, at some point, perhaps frustrated by her bossiness, you decided Glamshara wouldn’t push you around anymore. That’s when the plan took root. You didn’t want to confront her directly, so you poisoned the Princess with Shadow’s Kiss—a rare but deadly poison. You knew Glamshara would be blamed since she was next in line for the throne.”

“This is all conjecture!” Zogmar spat. “I would never harm the Princess. I’ve always served the tribe and the queen faithfully.”

“A bold accusation,” Queen Grizshara said. “But it must be backed up by proof, not theories.”

“I agree, Queen Grizshara.” Justin turned to her sister. “You mentioned something in the Underdeep that caught my attention. You said you rushed down to brew the antidote, knowing from your initial measurements that there would be enough to do both. You wanted to finish your attempt at the Everlasting Draught first, though. Do you care to explain why?”

Glamshara answered. “It was to avoid wasting valuable ingredients. The Draught was nearly complete, and I knew Shadow’s Kiss would take several days to do its work. There was time to do both.”

Justin nodded. “At first, you believed there was enough Heart of the Moonflower left for the antidote. But later, when you measured again, the amount was slightly less than you expected. Just enough to be noticeable, but not enough to draw immediate suspicion.”

“Yes,” Glamshara confirmed. “I noticed a small portion was missing, far too late. Originally, I lied to you about who stole it, but I never dreamed another goblin had gotten to it in the interim.”

“And there is a reason for that,” Justin said. “I want to assure you that made no mistake in your initial measurements, Glamshara.”

She looked at him, curious. Zogmar simply glared.

“Your second measurements were off because Zogmar took a small part of the Moonflower, probably while he was gathering the Sandbloom Essence for the Shadow’s Kiss. It was a subtle theft, but just enough to sabotage your antidote.”

Queen Grizshara narrowed her eyes. “Are you suggesting Zogmar has enough of the Moonflower to heal Nyrissa?”

Zogmar hissed through his teeth. “This is absurd! You believe that lying witch over me? It’s nothing but slander!”

“You knew Glamshara’s interest in the Legendary Draughts,” Justin continued. “You knew that if you took a small amount of the Moonflower, she’d use up the rest, leaving you with the only remaining supply. You also spread rumors that Glamshara gave Grashuk a love potion. Several goblins, including Zildur, noticed his strange behavior lately. But at the time Grashuk was supposedly dosed, Borgruk can testify that Glamshara was busy cataloging ingredients in her lab.”

“That’s true,” Borgruk confirmed.

Justin didn’t stop. “The only person who could have dosed Grashuk was you. You shot him with your blowgun on his way home from the tavern.”

“That’s a lie!” Zogmar snapped. “How can you be sure Glamshara didn’t slip out to administer the potion herself? It wasn’t as if she was being watched every moment that night!”

“She wasn’t, but Borgruk has confirmed that he saw her at least every half hour, and she was still working even as the tavern was winding down,” Justin said. “It’s possible she slipped out unnoticed, but not probable. But that’s not all. Before we set out to apprehend Glamshara, you gave us your blowgun, claiming it was loaded with an antidote to cure Grashuk. However, Glamshara tested its contents, and it instead revealed a Slowing Poison.”

“That’s correct,” Glamshara said, her voice firm. “It contained duskbell and blue-spotted tree frog venom. My Revelation Solution turned a cloudy purple. Everyone who was there can testify to that.”

Zogmar fell silent, his composure beginning to crack.

“So, Zogmar,” Justin pressed, “the reason you urged us to attack Glamshara first, and to shoot Grashuk with your blowgun, was to cover your tracks. You wanted both out of the way. Once the dust settled, you planned to return to the lab, ‘discover’ the last of the Moonflower, and set yourself up as the hero who saved the Princess.”

“A compelling story,” Zogmar sneered, his eyes gleaming with malice. “But that’s all it is—a story. You have no hard evidence. Just wild speculation.” He flashed a predatory grin. “And besides, you can’t explain how the poisoned fork ended up under Zildur’s bed. How could I have managed that?”

Justin noticed Zildur’s subtle reaction—she had clearly been troubled by this point, likely prodded by the Queen herself.

“You had one opportunity I can think of,” Zildur said, her voice steady but tense. “You offered to brew me a calming potion after the Princess had fallen terribly ill. You said you noticed my nerves were fraught—which to be fair, was true—and you insisted I take it. I was surprised, honestly. You’re not usually one to care much about anyone or anything outside your alchemy. But I accepted. You insisted on delivering the potion to my room. I left the door unlocked that day so you could deliver it, and found the potion waiting for me on cupboard. That must have been when you slipped the fork beneath my bed.”

“Pure conjecture,” Zogmar said, his voice dripping with contempt. "As you said, the door was unlocked. Anyone could have gone in there."

"Yes," Zildur allowed, "but you were the only who knew it was unlocked."

Queen Grizshara leaned forward, her gaze sharp. “Justin, if your theory holds, then Zogmar should still have some of the Moonflower in his possession. Is that so?”

“That’s right,” Justin confirmed. “If it’s somewhere in his possession, that will prove everything. He didn’t plan to kill the Princess. He wanted Glamshara out of the way first so he could swoop in and save Nyrissa, solidifying his position in the tribe. If he doesn’t have the Moonflower, I’ll admit I’m wrong. But Glamshara’s meticulous nature suggests otherwise; she would not have been off on her initial measurements. Zogmar took just enough of the Heart of the Moonflower to make the antidote.”

“I possess nothing of the kind!” Zogmar shouted, his desperation growing.

Justin studied him closely. “So, if we search your workshop now, we won’t find it?”

Zogmar hesitated, and his silence was all the confirmation Justin needed. His shoulders sagged, and his breathing became shallow, as if panic were closing in on him.

“How do I know someone didn’t frame me by planting the Heart of the Moonflower there?” Zogmar demanded.

“You keep your workshop locked up tighter than a dragon’s hoard,” Borgruk said flatly. “No one but you could’ve gotten in there.”

“Zogmar,” the Queen said coldly, “we can do this the easy way or the hard way. If we search your workshop and home and don’t find the Moonflower, you will be exonerated. But if we do find it after it’s too late to save my daughter, you will be tortured most brutally. We know the Moonflower is out there, somewhere. Someone has it. And we will find it. But if you confess now and save us the trouble, I will grant you mercy. It’s your choice.”

All eyes were on him. Justin realized that if Zogmar had hidden the Moonflower well, then he might gamble that it wouldn’t ever be found. But if the Queen made good on her threat—and Justin bet she would—she would hunt for it for months, if not years, until it was found.

Zogmar’s shoulders trembled as he finally broke down. “All right, fine! I admit it! It was me!”

Justin exhaled in relief. They had cracked the case.

“Is your mind clear of the love potion’s effects now, Grashuk?” Queen Grizshara asked.

“Yes, my Queen,” Grashuk replied, his voice somber. “I acted foolishly, but the antidote cleared the potion’s effects.”

“You are not to blame,” Grizshara said. “Zogmar’s skill with potions twisted your mind.” She turned back to Zogmar, her gaze icy. “We will go to your workshop now. If you don’t produce the Heart of the Moonflower within a minute, your death will be slow and excruciating.”

Zogmar’s face paled as he realized there was no way out. “My Queen, I beg for your mercy!”

“Mercy will come if you produce the Moonflower,” Queen Grizshara said. “Now, lead the way.”

Trembling, Zogmar was escorted by the group, though Zildur excused herself to tend to Nyrissa. Within minutes, they arrived at Zogmar’s workshop. He hesitated only briefly before fumbling through his shelves and cabinets, finally producing the Heart of the Moonflower. The brilliant silver dust was barely even visible, such was the small amount. It was hidden inside a hollowed-out alchemy flask, concealed among mundane ingredients on a high shelf. It was clear it would have turned up with a thorough search within an hour or less. The man, in his hubris, had never thought the evidence would point back to him.

And, Justin realized with a chill, he’d almost gotten away with it.

“Glamshara,” Queen Grizshara commanded, her voice steady, “will you brew the antidote?”

“Of course, my Queen,” Glamshara replied, stepping forward to take the Moonflower and begin the brewing process.

Grashuk and Borgruk roughly pulled Zogmar aside as Glamshara set to work, her hands steady despite the gravity of the situation.

“Take him to the dungeon for now,” Queen Grizshara ordered.

Grashuk and Borgruk immediately seized Zogmar, who barely resisted, his eyes darting between the group. His gaze settled on Justin, Kargan, and Bohemond, filled with malice. His hateful stare lingered, but his defiance crumbled as he was dragged toward the palace, his screams echoing faintly as they hauled him away.

Within moments, Glamshara had finished brewing the antidote—a glowing silver potion that cast the entire room in soft, ethereal moonlight. The glow was so pure it seemed to reflect the magic of the Moonflower itself.

“It’s done,” Glamshara announced, her voice steady, though there was a glint of tension in her eyes.

Queen Grizshara approached her sister, taking the potion with a mixture of reverence and urgency. “Will this work?”

“Undoubtedly,” Glamshara replied confidently.

The two sisters shared a look—one filled with unspoken emotions. Whatever they needed to resolve between them, it wasn’t for Justin or anyone else to interfere.

“We must get this potion to Nyrissa,” Queen Grizshara said, turning to her guards. “I will see to her myself.” As she prepared to leave, she faced Justin and his companions. “Wait for me in the throne room. If this potion saves my daughter, I will owe you a debt beyond measure.”

Justin gave a deep, respectful bow, followed by Kargan. Even Bohemond inclined his head in acknowledgment.

Now there was only to wait.