Out into the sun. Felix’s wing of the palace towered over him, his rooms imposing now more than ever. Mouse glanced up and took a deep breath. You can do this. It’s not that embarrassing. He should be more embarrassed than you.

Still, I should have known better than to fight back when someone’s guiding magic through my body. It was stupid. I’m not the world’s greatest mage, but I’m experienced. I shouldn’t have made such a basic mistake. And then I went crazy and… he saw everything, me acting like a freak, me being stupid, I can’t…

Mouse took a deep breath and raised his hand to knock. Can’t change the past. I’ve got to just forge ahead.

The door opened. Felix stepped out, met Mouse’s eyes, and backed back into his rooms.

Oh, excuse me! Mouse slammed his foot in the closing door and grabbed on with his hands. His lips curved into a malicious grin. “Your Majesty, you couldn’t be running from a lowly servant such as myself, could you?”

“I’m sorry!” Felix fled, racing down the corridor away from Mouse.

Mouse shoved his way through the door and chased Felix. Despite his height advantage, he struggled to catch up to the other man. His chest bounced, banging against his ribs. He trapped it down with one hand and sped up, hiking his skirts up with the other hand. “Get back here!”

“Sorry! Please don’t hate me!”

“Felix, stop this instant! I just need your help!”

“I can’t,” Felix whined, hiding his face.

Mouse grabbed his shoulder and pulled him to a halt, whipping him around to face him. “Felix, I don’t care. Shut up and give me your flame!”

“Eh… huh?” Felix peeked through his fingers.

“Your flame. I need it. Live. To make the potion,” Mouse said.

“The enchantment…”

“Isn’t pure enough. The fuel taints the flame, ever so slightly. I think the one thing I need, the final element to make the potion, is pure silver flame. I can’t cast it—”

“Sorry,” Felix whispered.

Mouse rolled his eyes. “—and the enchantment isn’t enough, so all I can do is ask you for it.”

“Uhm… what if I… taught Cel?” Felix suggested. He stared at the floor, rubbing his hands together awkwardly. Mouse could almost see his drooping puppy dog ears and tucked tail.

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Oh, come on. “Cel’s a warrior, not a mage.”

“Dayander…”

“Felix, give up. You’re coming back with me, and that’s that.”

Felix glanced up at Mouse. “You aren’t mad?”

“Embarrassed, mostly. I showed you a shameful side of me. I know you’ve seen it before, but still… I thought I was over it. Now, I’m annoyed, but…”

“But it was my fault. And after you did so well for so long, what if I triggered your episodes again? I don’t want to hurt you. I should stay away.”

Mouse sighed. He grabbed Felix by the hand. Felix tried to snatch his hand away, but Mouse held on tight. “Do I have to literally drag you back to my room?”

“I…” Felix bit his lip.

Annoyed, Mouse bent and swept Felix’s legs, gathering him up into his arms. Oof. He’s heavier than he looks. Or am I that much weaker now?

Felix squirmed. “Your… my head, it’s…”

He glanced down. Not much I can do about those. Not like I can move them out of the way of his head or anything. “Think of it as a special service, or get the hell out of my arms and walk like a grown man,” Mouse replied.

Felix quieted. He let Mouse carry him. His head pressed against Mouse’s chest, nestled in the crook of his arm. At a whisper, he asked, “Is it okay?”

“It’s fine. Well, it’s not fine fine, but… we all make mistakes. Listen to me when I say it’s too much, next time, and that should be okay.”

Felix nodded.

At the door, Mouse paused. “Do I actually have to carry you back to my room, or…?”

Startled, Felix squirmed out of Mouse’s arms. “No! No, of course not.”

“Then let’s go,” Mouse declared.

A short walk later, they crouched in front of Mouse’s cauldron. Mouse pulled the enchanted disk out of the fire and brushed the unused fuel out of the fireplace. “I need a steady flame, and pure. No impurities. No variation in heat. Can you handle that?”

Felix nodded, staring intently at the small black pot. “I can.”

He gestured. A silver flame flickered to life under the pot.

Mouse closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He drew his luggage closer. All the vials laid lined up on the upper lid in order, corks open, ready. A second pot to the side, warmed over an ordinary flame, heated several ingredients. “Okay. Here we go.”

His hands danced from one vial to the next. One ingredient after another vanished into the pot. He reached out blindly, grabbed a scoop from the hot cauldron, and dipped it into the other cauldron. Tipping a vial into his hand, he fed in a half-dozen strands of hair-thin dried gray roots. That’s the last of the stoneroot. Hope it’s enough…

White steam lifted from the surface. The liquid simmered coldly, warmed-yet-not-warmed by the silver flames. He gently stirred it, lifted a vial, and dropped in a splash of liquid. C’mon, go! Mix! You can do it!

The liquid popped and hissed. The dark mixture churned, showing a pale underside of bright silver. He held his breath.

It turned dark. Mouse frowned. Failure.

“Is that bad?” Felix asked.

Propping his chin on his hand, Mouse stared at the pot. Last time, I had more stoneroot. Another few hairs… but where could I…

His eyes lit up. On the dungeon out back, I remember, there were vines! I didn’t take a good look at them earlier, but it’s the right climate… there’s a good chance!

“Keep the heat on the pot. I’ll be right back.” Mouse stood and rushed out.

Felix glanced at him, then at the vials splayed on the floor. A tiny glass bottle populated with another dozen gray strands rolled gently on the floor, beside all the other half-full vials. He turned and squinted after Mouse, confused.