"You have called for me?" Derya asked of Ninive and Argana, who were in Argana's secret lair beneath the castle among bottles and vials she recognized as similar to those the elf used at home. Books lined shelves built into the raw rock, the scent of damp and ground vied with that of chemicals. Odd jars filled with liquid and strange creatures stood among vials and tubes filled with concoctions and powders.
"The magic in the pebble reacts differently to Argana's blood than mine. We wondered what it would do when exposed to yours," Ninive said, barely glancing away from what they were doing.
Both of them wore men's clothes and leather aprons with soft leather gloves as they handled whatever they were busy with.
"You called me down here to get my blood?" she asked with a tiny smirk, and they glanced at her. The little rivalry between them was still there, but they worked well enough together when she somehow expected them to be at odds.