A Recipe, Annotated

I gave myself two hours for the witch. That was generous. I have seen what witches do with time.

Hetty of Rimmington's Darker Side. Serves one Chronicler.

One eye of newt, bought from Betty of Port Sarim. She did not ask what it was for. Betty has sold a great many eyes and has never once asked.

One piece of burnt meat. Take raw beef from Wydin of Port Sarim. Lay it on the range. Wait until it is ruined. This was the hardest step. Every cook in the Book has burnt meat by accident. I am the first to do it on purpose, and I did not enjoy it. The beef did not enjoy it either.

One onion, from the field north of Rimmington. It was in the ground. Then it was not.

One rat's tail. The rat gave it up. I will not say how willingly.

Give the four to Hetty. She stirs. You drink. I declared it at thirty-four minutes past ten. I drank at thirty-eight. Four minutes. I had a hundred and sixteen left over and nothing to fill them with.

I felt my darker side, briefly. It was mostly onion. Nobody was there to see it, so I wrote it down myself: Who Drank from the Cauldron. Then I went to stand in a fortress wearing a borrowed helm, holding a cabbage.