I arched an eyebrow at the sheriff. Come on, give me something juicy.

He leaned forward, steepled his fingers, and his serious expression hardened further. “First,” he began after a moment, “watch out for the goose.”

“The goose.”

“The goose.” He nodded to himself, his gaze distant. “Second.” Snapping back to reality, he returned his attention to me and rubbed his chin. “If you decide to do any of the lake activities, either stay by the shore or go with the guide.” Shaking his head, he continued after a moment.

“There haven’t been any deaths, thank god, but there have been more rescues than any of the locals would like to admit. There’s some kind of nasty undercurrent as you get farther out, and the fact that we haven’t had any real injuries yet doesn’t mean there won’t be.”

“Right, don’t underestimate the water hazards,” I confirmed, and Hank nodded. Honestly, he seemed pretty damn serious about it, and I would respect that.

I was reckless, yes, but not that kind of reckless. I got my thrills in other ways.

“Third.” This time, he was even more serious than he was before. “Have you met the local Alchemist, William?”

I nodded, and was about to reply verbally — until I caught sight of a smartly dressed man in a classy waiter’s uniform approaching our table.

He was wickedly handsome and immaculately groomed, with slicked back black hair, brilliant blue-green eyes, and perfectly trimmed facial hair that suggested the town barber had credentials to rival William’s prowess in alchemy. Jacob, I presumed.

“Good evening.” He made a slight, curt bow in my direction. “I am Jacob, and it will be my pleasure to serve you tonight.”

His voice was rich, cool, and polished, the timbral equivalent of expertly carved marble.

“May I get you something to drink, perhaps?”

Tilting my head, I briefly considered going for something alcoholic — but I quickly decided that it would be a bad idea after my earlier bout with the ice cream. “Just water, please.”

“One water, then.” He clasped his hands together, and the sheriff took a sip of his juice. “Our special tonight is…”

I kind of zoned out at that point. I can’t really explain why, but for some bizarre reason I could never manage to pay even a modicum of attention to restaurant staff specifically when they started going on and on about the specials.

Braised this, reduction that, served with god knows what and heaven forbid you ask about the price.

In any case, he finished his spiel, the fog upon my mind lifted, and we both asked to look at the menu.

“So,” I began as Jacob departed, “I believe we were talking about Mister William of the Apothecary”

Shaking his head to clear his own apparent stupor, Hank finally responded. “Yes, William. You’ve met him?”

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“So I have.”

Nodding slowly, Hank took another sip of his juice. “First thing to know about him is that his ice cream is just as good as he claims. It even comes with a little paper party hat — silly, but oddly charming, I have to admit.” He paused. “But do not take him up on his ‘antidote.’”

The officer actually paled slightly, and I sensed a faint shudder ran through him. “It works alright, don’t get me wrong on that — but you’d be better off not overdoing it in the first place.” Regaining his complexion, he chuckled. “Easier said than done though.”

I sighed. “While I appreciate the fair warning, I must regretfully inform you — I’ve already learned that the hard way.”

Hank barked out a laugh, then frowned. “You said you got in just earlier today?”

“Indeed.”

He shook his head in disbelief. “You must have a mighty strong constitution then.”

We were interrupted once more by Jacob returning with the menus, though this time he remained silent. Sharing a glance with my dining companion, we made a nonverbal agreement to put off the conversation for the time being.

Let’s see…

Pumpkin bisque? Strange, but intriguing. Lamb shank? Why not.

I flipped to the back where the drinks were listed out of mere curiosity. After all, for some reason Jacob had an aura about him that was rather reminiscent of a high class bartender, and I idly wondered if the impression matched reality.

Oh my.

Not one. Not two. Not even three. Four entire pages dedicated not to wines, or craft beer, or even ordinary cocktails — though those items were listed elsewhere — but no. Four pages of awakened spirits.

Oh ho ho. Ice cream or not, this was too good of an opportunity to pass up.

Yes, I was perfectly capable of making the alchemically infused beverages myself, but there was just something about having them made by a real bartender that I found frustratingly impossible to replicate.

Perhaps it was merely psychological — but that made it no less real.

Flipping my menu closed, I licked my lips. This was going to be fun. Officer Hank must have seen something devilish in my expression, because he just barely arched an eyebrow of his own. “See something you fancy?”

I shrugged. “You could say so.” Drumming my fingers lightly across the tablecloth, I met his eye again. “By the way, what happened to the previous sheriff?”

To my moderate surprise, Hank winced as if struck. He remained silent for a moment, staring into his glass, before meeting my gaze with his own penetrating stare. “The goose got him.”

----------------------------------------

As Officer Hank helped me up to my room, I considered asking him what the deal was with the swamp. The last bit of the conversation several hours ago with William had remained stuck in my mind, as well as that fantastic novel I had binged.

Of course, I was also finding it nearly as difficult to find words as to put one foot in front of the other.

I decided that I was now back to disliking the building — stairs were no fun when you had to help someone else drag you up four flights of them.

“So what’s up with the swamp?” I finally managed to slur. “William said it was under maintance—maiden—maid—”

Thankfully, he decided to humor me as we finally reached my door. “They won’t tell it to you straight, but I’ve managed to piece together that they think some kind of sorcerer has moved in there,” he grunted, standing me up against the wall. “If they tell you not to go out alone at night, that’s why.”

He chuckled as he fumbled with the lock. How had he gotten my key? “Anyway, it’s all nonsense, I’m pretty sure. You know how it goes in places like this — with nothing else to do, the people start inventing rumors to scare themselves.”

The door swung open, and he brought my briefcase inside before coming back out to retrieve me myself. A moment later, I had flopped backwards onto the colossal bed.

“Right then,” I heard him say. “Rest well… oh dear god he has a minibar.”

The door shut, and I was alone in the darkness.

Hmm. Sorcerer in the swamp? Sounded just like my new favorite novel. It also sounded like the locals wanted a little adventure. Maybe…

I rolled over, then sat up. Right. No time to waste.

I think I had all the equipment I needed… this shouldn’t be too hard.

I fumbled around for my briefcase, unlatched it, and then flicked on the light. It hurt my eyes a little, but that was okay.

I glanced out the window. It was dark out. Good.

Hmm, the potion should be pretty easy, but how could I prevent my clothes from getting ruined? Most of them were rather nice, and swamps were supposedly rather dirty…

Well, it was dark out. And Carla said most people stayed in by now…

Right. My room had a kitchen… now it was time to cook.