Cauldrons and Cat Tails (Moonvale Matches #2)

3. Kizzi

CHAPTER 3

Kizzi

I finished my day’s deliveries with plenty of time to spare—I was even able to crack open the new shifter romance novel Fiella loaned me before I had to meet her for dinner.

I had covered the nasty sludge-filled cauldron in my shop with a sheet on my way in. Fiella might’ve had a point… the stuff was a little unsettling.

If it was out of sight, it was out of mind. More or less. At least the weird, popping bubble splatter would be contained. How it managed to boil without a heat source was a mystery that I chose to ignore for the time being.

I curled up in my bed, tugged my fluffiest fur blanket over my head and lit my enchanted lamp with the smallest wisp of magic from my fingertip. The warm glow allowed me to see the pages in the darkness of my cozy cocoon. I couldn’t even feel the magic leaving me, the amount was so miniscule. These were some of my favorite magics—the delicate, subtle ones.

I latched at every opportunity for leisure time I could grasp. Being idle was one of my favorite pastimes, that’s why I rushed through my tasks so quickly. As soon as I finished my work, I could just relax . I could rot away in bed with a good novel for a few hours and nobody would bother me.

It was glorious.

Though most of the folk in Moonvale lived in cottages on the edges of town or dispersed throughout the Greenwood Forest, I chose to live in the back room of my apothecary shop. It was simply more convenient. I wasn’t someone who craved separating my work from my home. I was often finishing up potion brews at odd hours, so it was easier to keep my entire life in one building.

And I was rather fond of this building. With its uniquely curved walls, its heavily laden shelves, and the comforting smell of cinnamon that permanently stained the air, I never wanted to leave.

My personal room was my favorite part. My bed, huge and fluffy and filled with as many pillows and blankets as it could carry, took up a large portion of the space. I had it shoved in the far corner under a net full of tiny, enchanted twinkling lights, so it almost looked like the firefly-filled sky.

The front wall of my room—by the door—held a cabinet with my most valuable finds. The rarest ingredients I had sourced from the farthest reaches of the realm. The lock was spelled, of course, so if a thief tried to lay their hands on it, they would be trapped in a thick layer of slug slime, with their feet frozen to the floor.

A witch liked to protect her valuables.

If preferring the dramatic is a crime, lock me up in the mayor’s dungeon.

The cabinet held other marvelous finds, like shining pink diamond dust from Rockward’s mountains, harvested by the near-mythical mining gnomes. And the dried wings from an extinct species of butterfly. And many other fabulous (and fucked up) things.

The cabinet also housed the most dangerous potions and tonics I had brewed—like the mixture that induced a long, deep sleep. The memory blurring tea blend. And the outlawed love potion.

A broad, arched window covered the side wall, letting in as much light as possible. The sill was crowded with potted plants that reached for the light with curling tendrils and vining leaves. I kept the curtains open as much as possible.

Sometimes, on my darker days, I hoped the bright light would sink under my skin and brighten my insides too.

Everything that I needed was here in my shop. Well, except for Fiella. I needed her too. It was always us against the realms, and since she had become mated, I didn’t have unrestricted access to her friendship like I used to.

It ate away at my insides like a mild acid.

I was thrilled for her, truly. She deserved happiness more than anyone else I knew, and Redd treated her well. I just missed her. I missed our spontaneous trips, and our daily dinners together. I missed our random middle-of-the-night gossip sessions.

I sighed, trying to shake off the grasp of melancholy.

I wasn’t necessarily lonely—I had only ever really had Fiella and the witches in my life and I never needed anyone else. I just felt… a bit gray on the inside. Sort of hollow.

I focused harder on my book, hoping to distract myself. I was so absorbed in the story I could almost pretend I didn’t catch glimpses of sprites flitting in my peripheral vision. The tiny, fairy-like creatures were almost impossible to spot, but if you weren’t looking directly at them, you could occasionally see the glimmer of their wings, the sparkle of their streaming hair, or the sheen of their glowing skin. Sprites were everywhere—in the forest, in the depths of the river, even distributed throughout towns, but there was an ungodly amount of them infesting my shop.

Fucking sprites .

The book distraction worked, because a few chapters later, after a particularly fascinating spicy scene and a battle between rival wolf shifter clans, Fiella pounded on my shop’s front door.

“Let’s go, Kiz! I’m starving!”

I dog-eared the corner of the page (certain Fiella would curse me out for that later), pulled myself out of bed, and smoothed my hair, hoping my tunic wouldn’t be too noticeably wrinkly.

“I’m coming, I’m coming, hold your unicorns,” I grumbled.

I tossed my satchel over my shoulder and tugged my boots onto my feet, all the while listening to Fiella complain outside my door about how hungry she was and how she would drop dead if she didn’t get a cider in her stomach in the next five seconds. Dramatic vampire.

The walk to Ginger’s Pub was especially lovely in the evening. The mild season air was the perfect temperature, chill enough to benefit from long sleeves but not frigid enough for a cloak. It smelled of crisp, green leaves, a hint of warm stew, and something that reminded me of nutmeg.

The scents of small-town living were everywhere—of folk working and creating and eating.

Our boots clacked along the stones in sync. Fiella’s legs were much longer than mine, but she was mindful to shorten her stride.

Critters scurried across the cobbled streets without a care in the world, not even bothering to shy away from any roaming folk. Two squirrels chased each other in a circle beside my feet, chirping happily. I stepped away from them.

“So,” Fiella said, nudging me with her elbow. “How was your day? Same as usual, or did something juicy and exciting happen?”

“Pretty much the same, I’d say. I made some standard deliveries. Medical, the pub, Mayor Tommins, Ani, the clothing shop.”

Fiella hummed in contemplation. “And did you dispose of that ghastly cauldron concoction? I don’t even know how you’re going to do that. You’ll have to take it to the Barren Lands and hope the scorching suns dry it out or something.”

I sighed. “No. I did not have the energy to deal with that today. That’s a problem for tomorrow. Oh! There was someone sick at Moonvale Medical today. Any idea who it could be?”

“I can’t believe a folk with a stomach bug is the most exciting thing happening in town today.”

“It is pretty pathetic. Nothing wonderful happened over at Fiella’s Finds? Any rich strangers with mysterious backstories wander in to buy your most expensive items with suspiciously obtained silvers?”

“Ugh, no. I wish. Just the usual travelers and locals. You know I’d immediately send any suspicious but rich strangers in your direction.”

“We’re boring today. Maybe we need more curses to spice things up.”

Fiella jabbed me in the ribs with her finger. “Don’t even say that out loud. The fates might be listening.”

I snorted, shaking my head as we neared the pub.

Raucous laughter drifted out of the propped-open doors, the smell of bread and crisp fermented fruit, and a mild twinge of magic wafting out to meet us. Music thrummed quietly somewhere inside—a musician earning a few extra coins. Tables were set up outside for folk to enjoy the evening air with their dinner and ales, crowding into the street and even turning the corner around to the side of the building.

Ginger’s Pub was packed tonight. It was as if the entire town of Moonvale decided to come enjoy some ale and stew.

At a glance, I could see fae, elves, shifters, humans, and even a few of the more reclusive minotaurs tucked in the corner.

Luckily, we caught a couple as they were leaving and were able to snag their table.

“Gods! This is unreal, word must have finally gotten out about how good Ginger’s stew is.” Fiella shouted over the noise.

I snorted. “Fi, everyone is well aware of just how much of a delicacy Ginny’s stews are. That can’t be it.”

“You’re right. What in the realms is bringing everyone out then?”

I shrugged. “Beats me. Maybe it’s the weather.”

“As long as they have some blood in stock, I’ll be happy. And a cider, of course. I really hope it’s lavender blueberry today.”

“Girl, I know you do.” I looked around, hoping to catch a glimpse of Ginger’s auburn hair or Tandor’s hulking form. I could see the top of Tandor’s head behind the bar, his dark black hair gleaming in the light from the wall sconces. “I’ll head to the bar and grab us some drinks—if you see any bowls of stew floating around you better snatch them.”

Fiella saluted me sarcastically. “Yes ma’am.”

I rolled my eyes as I shouldered my way to the bar, careful not to push anyone too hard and knock them over but forcefully enough to let them know to get out of my way. Everyone was so gods damned tall . I utilized my elbows when I needed to, subtly jamming them into the guts of the stubborn drunks who wouldn’t budge.

I didn’t do any real damage—I was simply a woman on a mission. If I sent a flicker of magic zapping here and there, that was nobody’s business but my own.

After the grueling journey, I popped up beside the bar, leaning my elbows onto the sticky surface.

Tandor’s eyes zeroed in on me immediately. He drifted in my direction. I pretended not to notice the annoyed grumbles of the other folk in line that I had so smoothly stepped in front of.

“Kizzi!” He slung a wet towel over his shoulder, splattering the fae man behind him in mystery liquid. “Twice in one day! You couldn’t get enough of me, could you?”

I snorted out a laugh. “That’s it, exactly. It has nothing to do with the fact that you’re the one serving alcohol here. I’ve been counting down the seconds until I could see you again, actually,” I joked.

Tandor grasped two goblets, knocking an empty bowl onto the floor which he promptly kicked aside. “I would hope for nothing less. The usual?” He stretched his neck, searching for Fiella’s bright blue mane of hair in the crowd. “Two or three today? Redd here?”

“Just two, Redd was held up with one of his projects. You know how he gets when he’s got a saw and a chunk of wood.”

A woman cleared her throat pointedly somewhere behind me. My ears twitched in irritation.

“Two it is.” He slid the goblets toward me with impressive smoothness—not a single drop slopped over the side.

“Thanks! Oh yeah, I forgot to ask, do you have any blood left today?” I glanced down at the cups, noticing the red hue in one of them. “Never mind! You’re a genius. Thanks again! And good luck with… all this!”

“You act like I’m new at this, I wouldn’t dare deprive Fiella of her bloody ciders. I like my throat intact.”

I snorted. “Smart man. Thanks!”

“You said that already.”

The sass. Throwing my own words back at me. I couldn’t help but smile.

I shouldered my way back to the table, throwing my sharpest death glares at everyone in my way. By the smell wafting up from goblets, today’s cider was strawberry basil flavored, which was one of the best. I would curse a bitch if they made me spill any onto the nasty, mud-covered floor.

Luckily for everyone else in the room, I made it back to the table without incident.

Fiella stared pointedly over my shoulder with her eyebrow lifted. I glanced behind me, but nothing stood out, except for a pretty human woman ordering an ale. “What?”

Fiella shook her head, the corner of her mouth curling upward. “Nothing, Kiz. I just… saw something interesting.”

I shrugged. Weird. I must’ve missed it.

I carefully sat the goblets down on the table, mindful to keep every drop of precious liquid from spilling. Fiella snatched one with supernatural speed. I would never get used to her quick vampire reflexes, no matter how many years I spent by her side. She had taken a deep drink, set the goblet down, and leaned her head back with a contented sigh before I even got myself situated on my barstool.

“It’s no lavender blueberry cider… but it will certainly do.” Fiella mused, running her tongue over the edge of her goblet to catch an errant drop.

I hummed in agreement, taking a sip of my own. The crisp, icy cold liquid slid down my throat with a slight fizz—the fruity, herbal flavor dancing over my tongue sent a shiver of delight down my spine. Delicious.

If I had a knack for brewing beverages, I would beg Ginger and Tandor for the cider recipe, but as it stood, nothing I brewed ever tasted even remotely pleasant. My tonics and potions were choked down, not savored.

“So, have you given any more thought to what you might bring to the potluck?” Fiella asked.

I sighed. “Sort of. I wish they would let me help with setup or something, I feel bad that anyone in Moonvale will have to try my cooking.”

“Oh, come on. It’s not that bad,” Fiella chided. “Remember that one time you made toasted-cheese sandwiches? Those were edible.”

“I convinced Mitz to help me with those.”

“Oh… right. Never mind on that then. What about that one time you made a mirthroot-spiked punch? It tasted fucking nasty but it sure was fun.”

“Fiella, I can’t drug the entire town.”

“Well, you could—” I kicked her under the table before she could finish that sentence.

“I’m not drugging anyone.”

Fiella laughed under her breath as she took another swig. “Fine, fine. Be boring. How about,” she stared off into the distance as she thought, “fried tomatoes?”

“That sounds like a disaster waiting to happen,” I grumbled.

“Well, figure something else out then. There’s got to be something you can make that won’t induce vomiting.”

I caught sight of Ginger out of the corner of my eye—she was making her way toward our table with two bowls in hand. My spirit brightened immediately. “Oh, you’re a goddess, thank you, Ginger!” I shouted to the faun woman when she stepped within earshot. Her auburn hair was tied up into a tidy bun that made her antlers stand out, and her brown freckled skin was flushed and glowing. Her long, lean frame was draped in an apron with a few mysterious stains on it. Her hoofed feet were bare, as usual. A bright smile pulled at her cheeks, lighting up her face in a way that was infectious.

“I thought I saw my two favorite cider drinkers. Hello, ladies!” She carefully placed the bowls in front of us, and though the place was packed, and she was clearly busy, she lingered for a few extra moments. “The place is packed, right? Isn’t it wonderful?”

“Right… wonderful. That is exactly the word I would use,” Fiella said, not very convincingly, as she glared at a shifter that brushed past her.

“Good business, that’s for sure,” I said.

“Oh, business has been excellent! Things usually begin to slow down as the mild season comes to an end, but if anything, there have been more customers than ever,” Ginger said wistfully. “I wish it was always like this.”

“You’re nuts. I would simply drop dead if I had to handle this many customers every single day,” Fiella said.

Ginger snorted. “You’re just saying that. It’s pretty fun, tending to so many customers. I make a game out of it. Like right now, I can feel twenty sets of eyes burning a hole into my back, but I bet I can help every single one of them in ten minutes flat. Time me.”

She flitted away from the table without another word, bee-lining toward a large table full of folk.

“Absolutely crazy,” I murmured.

After Fiella and I finished our ciders and our bowls of chicken and veggie stew, I glanced up at the bar to gauge the line. The pub was settling down as the minutes passed by, and the crowd wasn’t quite as dense as it had been when we arrived.

My eyes locked with a dark, almost black gaze, so swiftly it was as though he had been looking at me first. Tandor lifted his hand with a slight wave. My eyes drifted to his forearm, huge and tightly muscled and exposed beneath scrunched up sleeves. I waved back, then held up two fingers, tilting my head in question. Tandor smiled, rolled his eyes, and pulled out two goblets.

I had expected the orc to ignore me, but surprisingly, he stepped out from behind the bar and brought the ciders over to the table.

“Wow, I didn’t think that would work,” I laughed as Tandor made his way over to the table, bumping into more than one customer in his path. The large orc wasn’t very agile.

“Princesses don’t retrieve their own drinks,” he joked with a mocking smile.

I rolled my eyes at him. “Come on, not the princess thing again. You didn’t have to bring them over here; I would have gotten up eventually.”

“Whatever you say, princess,” he mumbled. His ear flickered lightly. “Good to see you, Fiella,” he said a little louder, flashing a tusk-bearing grin at the vampire as he turned and weaved his way back to the bar.

Fiella just stared at me knowingly.

“What? Is there stew on my face?” I asked, self-consciously wiping at my chin.

“Nothing, nothing. Never mind.” She stared at me for a few seconds longer before diving into her next goblet of cider. She was being very ominous today. It was annoying.