This follows from last week’s post. (The love potion in question ate away at some stones.)
(A bit more background about this story. It was started to go along with a D20tabletop RPG that a friend was creating. I have no idea where his project currently stands; I should probably ask him.)
“Keep on believing it,” Ozell said. “Things are going to change and you’ll need him someday.”
She stopped and looked up at the spirit, but Ozell had chosen to be invisible. “Are you being prophetic or annoying?” she asked.
“Yes,” he replied smugly and she swung the spoon at him before stabbing it viciously back into the contents of the cauldron, now including him in her litany of people, places, and things to be cursed.
“So, how is my little sweetheart doing with the love potion?” another voice – this one corporeal – asked. “Is it ready for the two of us to sample, eh?”
She stopped stirring as Tuiee approached and looked into the cauldron. He frowned and drew a glass vial from a pocked of his robe and carefully dipped some of the liquid out. “This is no love potion,” he said, studying it. “What did you put in this, you little fleabite?”