by Esther Davis
Arye withdrew his fingers and hissed. Though the bottle sat undisturbed, angry violet streaks sizzled across the cauldron’s surface like claw marks from a rabid animal. Arye’s fingertips stung. He placed them on his lips, hoping to cool them. The flash still played across his eyes.
Amethyst shouldn’t burn. It healed. It soothed. But never burned…
Read the rest of “Amethyst to Soothe” and other short stories in A Dog, 3 Cats, and a Dragon.
NOTES…
Thanks for reading! See you again next month.