Á Íslandi - 17

And still I have not used all the prompts, we were given for Wednesday 16, so I continue.
The prompts were:

Sweetheart    
Succotash    
Semi-stable    
Solace    
Singularly    
Solution   
     and/or
Married
Lately
Diet
Denied
Squash
Urban

For this instalment, I used solace. Tomorrow is Wednesday, with a new crop of words. And I hope to continue with an instalment a day, but I won't promise anything.

Marit soon sat absorbed in the notes and books and Susan leant back against the wall and relaxed. She was on the verge of sleep when Marit gave a loud yell: "I got it, I found it! Here it is. A potion of purple dreams!"
"What a strange name," Finnbogi said, and Marit began reading with great trouble, and read the words twice, three or even four times before she hit the right one. Then Susan chased the sleep from her eyes and offered to read aloud.  Susan began reading the strange words and translating from German at the end of each sentence: "Trank der lila Träume. Wie man die Magie zum schlafen bringt und Menschen schwach macht; meaning Potion of purple dreams. How to make the magic sleep and people weak."
"Who would do this?"  Fiona asked.
"It seems my wife would," Rasmus said in a toneless voice.
"Sorry," Fiona said. "I did not think before I spoke. I'm a healer, I just can't imagine inventing a potion like this. Susan please read on, and let's find out how to counter it if it's possible."
Susan continued: "Zutaten, Drachenblut 1 Prise. Lila Fliedederblüten 1 Lot. Diese gut mengen und in ein Vierling zerronnene Butter mischen. A pinch of dragon's blood, 1/32 pound lilac flowers, purple variety, mix well and add this to a quarter of a pound melted butter. Let me see, we do not need this  ... let something ... Silber und Kupfer, blah blah blah ... Ruhen lassen ... Ah, here, Gegenmittel oder -gift, that means antidote, Tränen einer magischen Kreatur .. Tears of a magical creature in pure white wine. to be taken in the morning before you eat anything else. Repeat for up to four days if necessary. That's not too hard."
"You forget we're not at the Unicorn Farm any longer. The only magical creature we have access to is the disappearing dormice. And I doubt they cry even if we pinch them." Fiona said.
"Yes I forgot. But wait, Cerina, the gargoyle, her tears. I wonder if I still have them." Susan jumped up and almost overturned a chair in her haste to get to her bedroom. She returned just as fast. "Yes! They were still where I put them these many years ago. These," She extended her hand and opened is, so that they all could see what she held in her hand;  something most of all resembling two grey, shrivelled marbles. "These are the tears of a gargoyle. If that is not exactly what we need now, I do not know what is!"
"Oh," ´Susan said. "Did Monica and Olav ever promise to come down, and what about Jan. I spoiled your birthday party by showing up, and I have kept you here and busy ever since."
"Dear Susan," Marit said. "You have not kept me here. I have stayed willingly and knowing what I did. I have phoned home several times in the very few days past. They are all coming via the portal tomorrow - they still can do this, Can't they, Finnbogi?"
"Yes, he answered, They use the normal portals from Oslo to here, no problem. It's only the ones under the mountain that are set as traps."
"I'll ask Monica if she can come here early. This potion is far too important for us to fumble trough. Do you remember the Sunshine potion?" They all did and laughed or smiled, at the memories.
"This is where I miss the old teachers most of all, and wonder if they felt as insecure as we do now. Let's find and ask Martine. Even though I'm loath to disturb her. She's having the time of her live teaching all our children and grandchildren how to handle and fly a broomstick." Marit said.
"Oh let's wait until tonight. The potion should be taken in the morning, the text said, and not a word of letting it rest. And I do not begrudge Martine the fun teaching," Susan said.
"Where should we keep the copy and all the other papers?" Knud asked. "Not even a bank vault is really safe from a wizard."
"In the trap rooms." Finnbogi said, "There's a cubicle for storing. It can be locked in such a way that you need three out of six persons present and answering a set of questions before it opens."
Susan copied the antidote recipe meticulously while the other discussed who should be the key persons.
In the end they agreed upon Hilde, Finnbogi, Rasmus, Rósa, Knud and Marit.
They left as soon as Susan had finished copying and returned an hour later with a small book.
"Gilvi had used the room already. It was keyed to me, Rósa and Hilde," Knud said. "He has left us this little book."
In the evening, after all the grandkids had been chased off to talk themselves to sleep,  all the adult wizards and witches of Birch Manor and Monica, Jan and Olav had arrived from Oslo early to help make the antidote, gathered in the dining hall.
Susan, Rósa and Hilde cast a one way-dome together, marvelling at the ease with which Gilvi and Thora had done the same half a century earlier.
"Now," Finnbogi said. "Let's see what Gilvi and Thora had to tell us. I Rósa and Hilde had to answer quite a lot of strange and funny questions in order to hold this book. He opened it and read: 'June 20th. To my future apprentices, now witches and wizards. If you ever read this pages, I know that the magic has been reawakened and that at least three of the apprentices we deemed trustworthy are still alive. We are, as you might guess Thora, Täthi and Taavi Kuusisaari, Martine Haugen and me, Gilvi. As I write these pages the magic is threatened by the greed of a group of magicians under the auspices of Torben Søeborg, Tristan van der Meer and his sister Eileen Teresa. The latter being the brain behind them. They have slowly ensnared more people at The Farm. First David Hansen, Birgitta Svensson; later, Josh Traustason, Marja and Josta Koivu, Bjørn Anderson and a few others. We have decided that we have to do something about it.
Next entry is from June 26. This has been the last week at The Farm. We have been busy teaching the apprentices we trust in, and a few of the uncertain ones a lot of what we would have had to wait until later. But tomorrow at the summer celebrations, I and the magic in our corner of the world is going to die." Finnbogi stopped reading and blew his nose. "You were right, Susan," he said, his voice raw with unshed tears. "He knew, they knew." He resumed reading: "Today Tähti and Taavi brewed a decent amount of Mondrian, and a small vial of the lethal antidote, which I will  drink soon. After the brewing we solemnly burned and buried Gryffon's Bestiary. I then emptied the jar of Mondrian into our well, and by tomorrow at the party all of us will have had enough." Finnbogi looked up, and resumed reading once gain. "June 27th or maybe it is already 28th. The deed is done. All the apprentices and teachers are placed where friends and families will soon find them. The wands are broken, the magic has died. I have destroyed the portals, and will destroy the last one as I go back to The Farm. I will try to save as many as the books and things by burying them in the old well. When that is done, I 'll burn down the Farm, and wait for death to claim me. My only regret is that Teresa was not at the party. I have warned the magic societies in Germany, the Netherlands and Belgium. I do not know whether they will listen. May the Light protect and bless us all."
Rósa spoke: "He was the bravest and best wizard that ever lived. We are going to work hard to make him proud!" All drank to this and Fiona added. "Thora, Täthi, Taavi and Martine showed great courage too. Even though they did not give their lives, they gave their magic. Without the solace of knowing that anything came form it or any hope of ever getting anything back."
Marine rose: "It was hard to eat and drink, knowing what it would do to us. But we choose freedom! And I would choose the same way again given the choice."
"We have been smarter than he gave us credit for," Knud said with a smile. "He told us almost nothing new in this touching testimonial."
"We can thank the ghost, Persephone, for this," Susan said. "Without her help we would never, ever have found the books in the old well."

... to be continued