When we got inside, I attempted to set the plant down again, but Mrs. Redmond shook her head. “To the apothecary.”

She marched us back and sat my mom in a chair, keeping the knife trained on her.

“Go get something to tie her with,” she ordered.

I put the Heart on the counter and tried to steady myself. Was this really what being immune to the Absyrtus Heart felt like? There was no way anyone else could have come in contact with this plant without dropping dead.

I found a roll of duct tape in the hall closet and took it back to Mrs. Redmond.

“Lie down on the floor,” she said, shoving me in the chest. “Face down, with your hands behind your head, and don’t even think about moving.”

I didn’t hesitate. Mom was still bleeding from the wound in her arm, and a trail of dried blood traced down her forehead where Mrs. Redmond had struck her. I lay still and Mrs. Redmond secured my mom to the chair with the tape, then stood behind her with the blade at her throat.

“Get up,” she said to me. “Get the oleander.” She motioned toward the ladder.

I clung to the rungs, barely able to coordinate my arms and legs enough to climb up and grab the jar. When I finally managed to retrieve it and set it on the counter, I felt like I’d run a marathon. My bones ached. My muscles spasmed. My hand throbbed. The gash in my palm looked like a bloody, toothless mouth. Mrs. Redmond took out her phone and made a call.

“Come to the apothecary,” she said.

A few minutes later, there was the sound of a car door closing and the front door opening. Footsteps came down the hall, and Karter appeared in the doorway.

As he stood there and looked over the scene—my mother duct-taped to a chair, bleeding, me on the verge of collapse—his expression didn’t change. He closed the door and turned the big brass lock. As it clicked closed, a new rush of panic set in.

“I thought you said no one else was going to get hurt.” Karter stared at my mom.

“And I thought you said you were going to stop complaining,” Mrs. Redmond said coldly. “I wouldn’t have had to hurt anybody if they’d cooperated. Did you bring the other supplies?”

Karter set down a bag he’d been carrying. He rummaged through it and pulled out a stone bowl carved with strange symbols, two small vials of liquid, and a mason jar full of amber-colored honey, setting them on the counter.

“Karter, what are you doing?” I asked. “How could you do this to me?”

A wicked grin spread across Mrs. Redmond’s face. “What, you thought he liked you enough to betray his own mother? You thought you had a friend?” She laughed. “He’s been helping me this entire time. Slashing your tires, keeping you busy when I needed him to.” She shook her head. “Why are all the people in your family so stupid?”

“Mom—” Karter began.

“Shut up,” Mrs. Redmond snapped. “Come over here and hold this.”

Karter walked over and took the knife from her. He pressed it against my mother’s neck without any hesitation. Mrs. Redmond went to the counter and arranged the items he had set out.

“Do you have any idea how long I’ve dreamed of this moment?” she asked, her voice trembling. “Collecting the rarest ingredients on the planet, bringing them together, only to feel like a failure because I couldn’t get this one missing piece.” She smoothed out her hair and pressed her hands to the countertop. “Selene was stubborn. So was Circe. Their convictions, their loyalty to Medea’s memory, and their affection for the ancient ways wouldn’t let them stray from their course. When they were out of the picture, I thought my quest had come to end.” A devious smile crept onto her lips. “But I didn’t know about you, the girl they tried to save.”

A sudden and terrible rumble reverberated through the ground. Dust rained down from the ceiling and fear darkened Mrs. Redmond’s face.

“We have to hurry,” she said. She grabbed my arm, digging her fingers into my skin. “Grind up the Absyrtus Heart. The whole thing. Now.”

She shoved me to the counter and I stared at Karter. He looked away. Coward.

Mrs. Redmond followed my gaze. “Kill her if Miss Briseis here tries anything.”

Karter let his gaze drift to the floor but he nodded.

My fingers still ached as I took hold of the plant. The Heart had stopped beating. The leaves had wilted and the lobes were ashen. The smell of rot was just as intense as the cold sensation. I ripped the Heart to pieces and placed them in the mortar, then crushed them together.

Mrs. Redmond pushed the stone bowl toward me. “Dump it in here.”

I tipped the mortar, and the ground pieces of the Heart slid into the bowl. She picked up the two vials of liquid—one gold, one silver—and dumped them in. She added three spoonfuls of honey. The contents shimmered and a thick ash-gray mist billowed out. Mrs. Redmond stood transfixed, but I took several steps back. The bowl rattled and the jars on the shelves clanged together.

“Put your hand in there,” Mrs. Redmond said. “Complete the transfiguration.”

I didn’t move. Mrs. Redmond motioned toward Karter. He sank his fingers into the wound in my mom’s arm. She cried out weakly, then sobbed, her body convulsing with each heave.

“Okay! Okay!” I shoved my cut hand into the bowl, trying to recreate the feeling I had when Dr. Grant’s father had shown me how to transfigure the contents we’d put on the copper plate. I closed my eyes and tried to concentrate. A warm sensation built in my palm, chasing away the cold. The liquids and pieces of the Heart combined under my hand. I pulled back as my muscles spasmed.

Mrs. Redmond stared into the bowl as a deafening crack split the air. Then, silence. She grabbed the bowl and poured the contents into an empty glass vial. The liquid was red as blood and thick like honey.

CHAPTER 30

“The Living Elixir,” Mrs. Redmond said breathlessly. She held up the vial, admiring its contents. “It has had a thousand names over as many years, but the Absyrtus Heart was always the most important piece of the formula. Do you have any idea what this means for me?”

Karter was staring at his mother—not with reverence or admiration, but sadness. His jaw was set, his fingers twitching on the handle of the knife. I couldn’t stand it. I had to put an end to this.

As Mrs. Redmond gawked at the elixir, I edged around the counter, lowered my shoulder and rushed her, catching her in the gut. We crashed to the floor and my shoulder struck the counter on the way down, sending a stab of pain through my arm. The glass vial flew out of her hand and skidded across the floor.