“So if I drink this, I’ll be beautiful?” she wondered.
“I would be most surprised,” said Zurfina the Magnificent, who was lying naked across the divan. “You haven’t done it properly. It’s supposed to be a lovely forest green—not a putrid olive.”
“I used all the right ingredients and I put them in, in the right order.”
“But you didn’t maintain the necessary aura.”
“Aura? Kafira’s fanny! I didn’t need to worry about the aura when I was making happiness potion.”
“Trained lizzies could mix blessudine. It’s the easiest potion to make. Hermosatin is twice as difficult, amorazine more difficult than that, and dionoserin more difficult still.”
“Alright,” huffed Senta. “In exactly which part did I let my aura drop?”
“The rose petals.”
“Well, I can’t do it again. I don’t have any more rose petals. Why do you need rose petals anyway? I can understand cucumbers. Cucumbers are vegetables and vegetables are supposed to be good for you. I’ve never heard roses were good for you. I don’t even think you’re supposed to eat them.”
“Do you want to be a sorceress or a chemist?” said Zurfina, sitting up. “Do you think this is a science experiment? Cucumber is essential, but not because it’s good for you. It represents a man.”
“A specific part of a man anyway.”
“His todger?” asked Senta, incredulously.
“Yes, of course. And the rose petals represent the woman.”
“Her fanny? His todger and her fanny? And I’m supposed to drink this?”
“Relax,” said Zurfina, rising to her feet. “It’s not like it has the real bits in it. They are just representatives. That’s what magic is about. Dionoserin doesn’t have walnuts because they have any real connection to your brain. They just sort of look like a brain when you take them out of their shell.”
“I’ve had enough for today.”
“Yes, so have I,” said Zurfina, heading for the staircase. “Your ineptitude has completely worn me out. I’m going to take my beauty sleep. You should read your primer. You’ve been neglecting your studies.”
“What will happen if I drink this?” asked Senta, holding up the small bottle.
“It might be interesting to find out,” said her mistress, stopping on the first step to watch. “Go ahead and drink it.”
The girl tilted the bottle to her lips and swallowed the contents down. She licked her lips and waited, but nothing seemed to happen.
“It tastes alright,” she said.
“That’s the spearmint.”
“What does it represent?”
“It doesn’t represent anything,” said Zurfina, ascending the stairs. “It just makes it taste good.”