Over the next few weeks, Sabrina finished reading the books she'd borrowed from the library, taking so many notes, she'd practically written her own manuscript by the time she returned the volumes. Following the directions of the Leiten Stone, she gathered another armful of books, which she stored in her workroom and read in fits and spurts whenever she had the chance.

The next time she had a day off from her metal-working, she promptly turned down an invitation from Maedra and Gerta to join them in Badenberg, thrilled to have the promise of an entire day to herself.

Hurrying into her workroom and wiping the remains of a hastily-eaten almond croissant from her hands, Sabrina pulled back the heavy curtains, flooding the room with early morning sunlight.

Squinting into the brightness, she gazed at the Schwarzwald down below. The trees looked especially lovely, having changed seemingly overnight from various shades of green to bright pops of yellow, orange, and red. Pressing her fingertips against one of the window panes, she wasn't surprised to find it cool to her touch, a sure sign the chilly autumn breezes had arrived, preparing the countryside for the impending ice and snow of winter.

Turning her back to the wall of windows, Sabrina strode over to one of the tables and considered the metals before her, tapping her fingers against the smooth wooden surface as she considered her next move.

She'd overcome every supposed impossibility related to her affinity, which meant the next thing she did needed to go beyond impossible...it needed to be truly revolutionary.

Not entirely sure where her research would take her, but trusting that the right idea would strike at the opportune time, so long as she made herself available, Sabrina settled onto a stool and opened a book she hadn't yet read. It was a chronicling of the accomplishments of magical metallurgists throughout the past three centuries, and she thought she might find inspiration for her next project among any failures that were listed or any theories deemed "impossible" or "too dangerous."

The first few chapters didn't spark any inspiration, but about halfway through the book, she came across an interesting term—alchemical transmutation.    

Sabrina was vaguely aware that some metallurgists desired to transform common, less valuable metals into gold or other equally expensive metals, but she'd never given it any serious thought. She read on, jotting down the provided equations in her ever-present notebook, the knowledge she'd acquired through her own experiences filling in some of the information the author had apparently lacked at the time of writing.

The book ended with theories and conjectures of where the research into alchemy might eventually lead, and Sabrina studied the formulas she'd written out. She could certainly understand the benefits of creating a fortune for herself out of cheaper metals and imagined she could make another fortune performing the service for others, especially Nichts, but money had never been the main motivator behind her research.

She could already see it wouldn't take her long to solve the problems outlined in the book, and she had no doubt she could eventually turn lead into gold...which immediately made her want to move on to something more challenging.

And so, she read on, moving from one book to another and writing down words or mathematical formulas that piqued her interest. She was pleased at how much she knew about metal simply from working with it, allowing her to combine practical insights with theoretical speculation, as well as to recognize when an author truly knew what they were writing about or when they were speaking without having hands-on experience.

Hours later, rolling her shoulders a few times, Sabrina opened another book, a thin volume with a faded orange cloth cover and gold lettering along the spine. The book was entitled Metals in the Natural Environment, and while it didn't sound especially interesting, the Leiten Stone had recommended it, which meant Sabrina was determined to work her way through it.

A few pages in, Sabrina slowed her reading, leaned closer to the page, and moved her finger under the passage as she silently mouthed the words before going back and reading them again, this time out loud:

Phytoextraction is the process by which plants remove dangerous metals from the soil, extracting them from the dirt and storing them within their own tissues. By taking metals such as mercury, cadmium, and lead into themselves, plants effectively cleanse the environment and protect other nearby organisms.

In order for phytoextraction to occur, the metal must first be dissolved into a substance the plant can absorb through its roots. Once the metal has been absorbed into the plant, it undergoes a process called chelation. While not all aspects of this process are understood, the end result is that the dangerous metal is surrounded upon entering the plant, much like how a single unsuspecting solider can be surrounded by an entire military squadron.

Once it is surrounded, the metal undergoes chemical bonding and attaches to an organic compound, allowing it to be transported and stored throughout the body and leaves of the plant. This is akin to taking a rock and placing it inside a box. The rock exists within the box, safely contained, and the box can be carried to other locations in the house where the owner wishes to store it.

Much more remains to be learned about botanical chelation, as well as the situations in which plants and metals can co-exist in ways that are mutually beneficial to one another.

Sabrina found the entire concept fascinating, and questions began exploding in her mind like the popping corn the witches enjoyed on chilly winter evenings:

Did botanical chelation only work with the metals mentioned or could a plant ingest and store any metal? Did being in such close proximity to a dangerous substance shorten the plant's lifespan or make it vulnerable to disease? Did this process only happen in the wild or could plants be induced to absorb metal? Could the plants ever do anything with the metal stored inside them, somehow using it to their advantage?

"Metal-filled plants," murmured Sabrina, tapping her pencil against her notebook. The idea was so preposterous she almost laughed, but something kept her from doing so, something that said perhaps this was the revolutionary idea she'd been searching for.

A knock suddenly rang out from the workroom door, and Sabrina jerked her head up, baring her teeth in annoyance. She'd been so intent on starting her work, she'd completely forgotten to apply a silencing spell!

Shaking her head at her stupidity, Sabrina quickly made her way to the door, opening it just enough to peer out. When her eyes landed on her mother, her stomach did a full somersault.

"Yes?" she said, trying to sound far more polite than she currently felt.

Marlene raised her eyebrows. "I saw Maedra and Gerta heading out this morning. They said you declined to go to Badenburg with them in favor of attending to your research." She frowned. "It's a lovely day, Sabrina. You ought to go out and get some fresh air with your friends instead of locking yourself away in here."

"I'm perfectly happy in here," replied Sabrina. "I've been looking forward to an entire day by myself for a while now, and this is how I'm choosing to spend it. I'm sorry if you and my friends don't like my choice."

Marlene's frown deepened, and it was clear she was about to say more when another witch suddenly appeared behind her, calling her name and saying something about an urgent issue where the Sprechen's advice was needed.

Sabrina watched her mother swallow down whatever she'd been about to say, and not for the first time, she was grateful her mother's desire to avoid a public scene was the only thing stronger than her need to lecture her daughter.

"Don't stay out too late," Marlene said in a low voice before turning around and hurrying over to the other witch, assuring her everything would be fine and asking for more information about the issue.

Sabrina let out a sigh of relief as the women disappeared down the hallway; she then closed the door and applied the strongest privacy spell she knew, determined there would be no further interruptions.

Walking back to the table, she sat down on the stool and tried to control the anger coursing through her. Why did no one—including her own mother—take her seriously when she said she wanted to be alone and focus on her work? Why didn't they respect the boundaries she tried so hard to put in place? Who were they to make decisions for her? And why was it so hard for them to believe her no truly meant no?

Sabrina hated feeling so helpless, as if no matter how hard she tried to stand up for herself, people simply ignored her wishes. She thought back to the boy in the tavern a few months ago and how she'd practically had to threaten him before he took her at her word.

Glancing down at the book she'd been reading, Sabrina studied the detailed drawing of a sunflower. Did plants and flowers ever feel like that...knowing they had no power over their own destinies, growing and living in one place while knowing any moment they could be plucked from their happiness and taken elsewhere, their lives ended at the whim of someone who though they would look nicer in a vase than growing outdoors?

And then it struck Sabrina...perhaps that was a reason for combining metal with plants. If plants could defend themselves, perhaps they wouldn't be treated so poorly. She herself had wished for a weapon to threaten the boy in the tavern. What if plants had the weapons she herself lacked?

She imagined roses with thorns of bronze, barbs that couldn't be easily snipped off or removed. She pictured leaves with metal edges, sharp as knives and ready to poke or slice anyone who attempted to uproot the plant. She thought of what the Nichts had wanted to do to the Schwarzwald, cutting down trees not because of necessity, but for profit. What if those trees could summon a layer of metal over their bark, making them impervious to the bite of an axe?

For a moment, Sabrina let her imagination run wild, and she grabbed her pencil and scribbled down as many ideas as she could think of, desperately hoping she hadn't missed anything as her hand struggled to keep up with her mind. Finally, she stopped and considered what she'd written.

This was it. This was the truly revolutionary idea she would devote herself to, something no one else had dared to dream of—joining the metallic with the botanical.

"And who knows?" she said aloud. "Perhaps after I do this with plants, I can try it with animals, too. They'd be much better off with stronger defenses and more ways to protect themselves."

But first things first.

Taking a deep breath, Sabrina began to write out what she needed to know, what sort of academic foundation she would need to establish in order to build on it. She already knew more about metal than most other metallurgists...she could take metals apart, put them back together, and connect with them without even needing to see them, much less touch them.

But she would need to know more than that. She would need to know about the binding properties of metal...what other metals they would bind with, at what temperatures, in what type of environments. Once she knew that, she could begin to study how they might bind with objects other than metal.

She also needed to know far more about plants than she currently did. Thankfully, that could be remedied with the help of the library and her microscopes...she would write to her father and ask him to send her more slides of preserved plants, trees, leaves, bark, flower petals, anything he could acquire, so long as it was botanical.

She wanted to practice with preserved specimens until she knew what she was doing, at which point she would attempt to join metal with living plants.

Then she could attempt her own form of botanical chelation, inducing a plant to take in metal and store it until a time of need. She realized she was overlooking countless steps in an incredibly complicated process, but she would figure them out when she reached them, which even by optimistic accounts would take quite some time.

Picking up her pencil again, Sabrina thought back over all the new terms she'd read. None of them felt quite right to describe what she was setting out to do, which meant she needed a new name for her new field of research. She wrote a few things down, but quickly scratched them out, dissatisfied. It took her a few moments but eventually she nodded at the words she'd written, underlining them for emphasis.

Alchemical hybridization.

"The process of joining metal with living things," she said, enjoying the sound of the words. "A truly ground-breaking achievement."

Now she just needed to make a significant breakthrough by her eighteenth birthday and show her mother why she was meant to devote her life to research rather than leadership.

Picture by fukayamamo-NJng32Q4KZs from Unsplash