15
I wondered if I’d heard correctly. ‘One second,’ I said. ‘To make four or five batches?’
‘I’d think so. I mean, I’m not an alchemixer, but—’
‘Tylerin’s Suppressants are made out of unicorn horns?’
‘The very finest,’ she said, with horrible cheer. ‘And every bottle’s steeped in unicorn hair, and, um… traces of dragon blood… I’ve got the literature on it somewhere.’
I interrupted her search for a no doubt horrifically informative leaflet. ‘That’s okay, I don’t need to read about it.’
She stopped searching, and thankfully took the horn from me. ‘So five batches, then?’ she said.
I took a moment to grope for words, and to dispense with the raging I was sorely tempted to embark upon. ‘I don’t quite… I mean, how is it a suppressant if the stuff pumps us full of magickal elements?’
‘I
