“Try?” Now Finney had good reason to tease the girl. “Are you saying I’d be the first to benefit from this service?” He was well aware that Faith had talents, he had seen so himself in the flatlands of Brooklyn when she chased away the rabbits and dreamed of crossing hell to find her mother. That didn’t mean he wished to be part of an experiment. If she was a witch, she was a novice, and beginner’s luck was rare. “I don’t think I want you mucking about with my fate. For all I know, I could wind up living in a cave with a bear, or married to a turtle under the sea, or sleeping with the washerwoman, and I’m not sure she would be the best of those bargains.”

“I’ll find someone who will bring you happiness.” Faith was serious about this matter. “You deserve that. You can’t stay in the barn forever.”

“You think too highly of me,” Finney responded. “To be honest, I didn’t even want to save you, but it was easier to let you tag along with me rather than leaving you with that old bag.”

Another man, even a good man, would have left her to fend for herself in Gravesend. Finney was more than decent, and therefore he deserved more than silver. Faith knew he still had dreams of Martha chasing after them, her white bonnet flying into the air. He’d given up salt, for it reminded him of the air that day, which had been so salty and blue.

“You know I drowned her.” Faith almost sounded like a child, though there was nothing childlike about her admission or the cool expression on her face.

“Not rescuing her isn’t killing her. Listen to me, girl. You didn’t kill her.”

Faith had a habit of biting her lips when deep in thought. Her dark red hair was braided and she wore a dress that was the same color as her silvery eyes. She might be beautiful someday, but not yet. “I’ve already decided,” she told her friend. “I intend to pay you back for all you’ve done.” Finney eyed her, uneasy, as she brought out a small bottle. “It’s the Tenth Potion, the strongest there is. We’re told not to make it, but I broke the rules. It can make anyone fall in love with you, and you with them. It’s unbreakable.”

Finney gazed at her, concerned. “Does your mother know?”

“This is between you and me.”

The elixir was set before him. It looked like wine, but the scent was of something that had been burnt. Finney had put up a good fight, but now he relented; he took a sip and considered. He’d had worse.