“When was the last one?” Jolin asked.
Doranna shrugged. “It’s been weeks.”
“That bad?”
“We’re managing.”
Lilette looked between the two. “What’s bad?”
“Sometimes she’s a bit . . . volatile,” Jolin answered.
Lilette shifted her bag to her other hand. “Who?”
Jolin met her gaze. “My mother.” She moved to start stacking the books on the shelves.
“Ah, I understand,” Lilette said, though she really didn’t.
Doranna was still working on the jars. “Lilette, I have been asked to apprise you of the rules. You may not leave Haven without the headmistress’s permission. You must be in your rooms before full dark. Open flames are allowed only on bolted-down candlesticks, which must be blown out when you leave the room—except, obviously, for the one you carry to light another.”
Jolin had nearly finished with the books.
Doranna turned the bottles so all the labels faced out. “Haven is a near perfect circle, so all paths eventually lead to the center of the island. Just about everything important is around the circle—the headmistress’s tree, the food pavilion, the library.
“The bathing pools are by the cliffs opposite the entrance. Because there are no men allowed to live on the island, the pools are open to the air.”
She stepped up beside Jolin and began meticulously alphabetized each title. “Meals are served thrice in the pavilion. If you miss one, there are usually baskets of fruit, bread, and cheese, which you may take at any time as long as it is not wasted.”
“You’re to check in as soon as you’re settled.” She gestured a woven basket by the door. “Leave your laundry in the basket and I’ll see it’s washed and returned the evening next. Your tree will be cleaned in the mornings.”
Lilette poked around the chaos of potions, seeds, herbs, and baskets of rocks. “How do you find anything in this mess?” She held up a vial of topaz-colored liquid.
“Mess?” Jolin snatched the potion from her hand. “I know exactly where everything is, so mind you don’t touch anything.” She set the bottle down carefully.
“What’s that one?”
“I call it ioa.” Jolin’s voice was filled with sadness. “It can change a person into a fish.”
Lilette’s eyes widened. “Why would you ever want to be a fish?”
“That’s what the Heads said. A couple vials were stolen, though, by a witch who wanted to become a Head of Plants. The results were . . . less than favorable. After that, they moved me onto the island—it’s more secure. I also began leaving out a key ingredient to each of my potions.”
“Less than favorable how?”
Jolin took a deep breath. “A few dozen people are stuck as some kind of half-person, half-fish. Their skin turned a mottled green, their skelature changed, webbing grew between their fingers, and their teeth became pointed.”
Even though she knew she hadn’t spilled the potion on her hands, Lilette wiped them on her dress.
“The Heads won’t let me try it on anyone else, and the witch was banished,” Jolin continued. “The fish people have taken to living on an island farther south. They call themselves mettlemots. Apparently, they’re quite the fishermen.” She chuckled at her own joke.
At the look on Lilette’s face, she quickly sobered. “I’m convinced the potion is sound. It’s the method of transfer that’s off. My theory is that it needs to be applied to the body’s meridian line for the reversal of effects. But I can’t test any of this.”
Lilette’s mouth was suddenly dry.
Jolin lifted her brows. “So, mind you don’t touch anything.” She opened a door to another room. “Come on, Doranna.”
“Is that how you talk to me, girl?” Doranna continued unpacking the books and setting them on the shelves.
“I apologize.” Jolin sighed. “Would you please render your assistance?”
Casting a regretful glance the rest of the unpacked books, Doranna stepped up beside Lilette and turned the ioa potion so its label faced out. “And?”
“Thank you so much for your invaluable service,” Jolin ground out.
“I’ll teach that one some manners if it’s the last thing I do,” Doranna said with a smirk to Lilette.
Lilette had a view of pots and plants before the door shut behind them. She studied the organized chaos surrounding her and started toward the only other door in the room. Behind it was a single bed—she hoped that was remedied before nightfall. If not, she’d be sleeping on the floor, and she’d come to like beds.