Cauldrons and Cat Tails (Moonvale Matches #2)

8. Kizzi

CHAPTER 8

Kizzi

M y chili was truly a masterpiece. It was a miracle that I didn’t have a crowd of admiring onlookers surrounding my table to watch me add the finishing touches to the delicacy.

“Do you have to get yourselves set up?” I asked Redd and Fiella. The two mated vampires had teamed up and brought blood smoothies in two different flavors. More than half the folk of Moonvale would avoid their table, for obvious reasons, but the blood guzzlers would have plenty to enjoy themselves.

“Nope, we got here before you did, we’re all set,” Fiella said.

“Overachievers,” I mumbled.

The potluck was only lightly structured. Folk milled around as they pleased. It was common courtesy to ignore any unoccupied tables and come back later when the table was manned again. We looked out for each other, and we all feasted at our leisure. The event didn’t officially start until Mayor Tommins declared it, though.

I pulled out my final chili ingredient, along with a small knife.

It’s garlic time, bitches.

I began slicing the garlic in quick, even strokes.

Redd let out a garbled shout, somewhere between a shriek and a gasp. “Kizzi!”

“What?!” I glanced up to see that all the color had drained from his face. He was clutching his chest dramatically. “Oh, Old Gods spare me. Are you kidding me right now?”

“What is it—AHH!” Fiella screamed, quickly ducking behind Redd’s taller frame and clutching his shoulders.

“You guys are ridiculous! It’s just a little garlic—it won’t hurt you!”

“You don’t know that,” Redd said with a shaking voice.

I picked up a clove and held it out threateningly. “Boo!”

Both vampires startled and scrambled back a few steps. “That’s not funny!” Fiella wailed.

Laughter burst out of my mouth, shaking my entire frame in massive, belly-quaking cackles. “It’s hilarious!” I dropped the garlic clove so I could clutch my stomach. “You should see your faces right now!”

Fiella flipped me off. “You’re a bitch.” Her voice was still hollow and shaky, but color was slowly returning to her complexion.

“Yep, and you love me anyway.” I fought to reign in my laughter. “I couldn’t help myself! I had to.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. I hope you know we’re not eating that, not with that stuff in it.”

“That stuff? You mean garlic?” I asked.

Fiella flinched. “Quit it!”

“I’m sorry, I’ll stop, I swear.” I finally choked down the rest of my giggles. “You weren’t going to eat it, anyway, let’s not kid ourselves.”

Fiella snorted. “Can’t blame me.”

Truly, I couldn’t.

“We better get back to our table, it looks like the potluck is about to start. To the suns, Kiz.”

“To the moons!” I called back.

As Redd tossed his arm over Fiella’s shoulder and guided her gently back to their table, I tossed the chopped garlic into the cauldron and gave it a quick stir.

There. Now it’s perfect.

The garlic brightened the scent to perfection. I lovingly examined the chili, stirring it slowly and letting the steam caress my face. I was so ridiculously proud of myself. Maybe this was a sign from the fates that I needed to start cooking more often.

A loud, booming clap in the center of the park captured my attention and everyone turned to face it. Mayor Tommins stood on a chair, his golden hair tied back into a neat ponytail. The gryphon was tall—not as tall as Tandor but taller than most of the other men in town. His voice projected impressively. “Folk of Moonvale! Thank you for coming out to celebrate with us as the mild season slips away—it’s time for the annual potluck! This year, everyone has brought a dish to share. Take this opportunity to socialize, to catch up with other folk, to enjoy a variety of treats. Love your neighbor, treat your neighbor, treat yourself, and have a good time! Let’s feast!”

Applause broke out, followed by hoots and cheers.

“Yeah! Let’s feast!” I shouted with the crowd.

Folk began milling around like frenzied ants. I retrieved my mug from my satchel and beelined to the nearest table serving tea to grab a steaming drink. I hadn’t had time to caffeinate myself before the event—I spent entirely too long carefully stirring and admiring my chili.

I swiped a chocolate croissant from Mitz’s bakery table on my way back to find that a few curious folk had gathered beside my table, hesitantly peering over the edge of my cauldron to catch a glimpse of the contents.

“Hello! Give me a second and I’ll serve you up.” I shoved the entire croissant into my mouth and chewed ferociously as I set my tea down, climbed onto my stool, and grabbed the ladle.

“Hey there, Kizzi! What do you have there?” a voice asked. The question came from Daine, the mothman who ran the grocery store. His elegant fingers were tucked together in front of him, resting on the edge of the table. His wings fluttered in the mild breeze.

“It’s called chili!” I announced loudly so all the nearby folk would hear. “It’s a recipe from Oakhollow. Folk in the hilly regions eat it all the time.”

“Oh, that’s cool! And did you… make it?” Daine asked hesitantly.

“Of course I made it!”

I reached for the man’s plate and snatched it out of his hands, ladling a generous serving onto it. I pushed the plate back into his grip before grabbing the next folk’s plate and repeating the process. They looked a bit bewildered.

“Well, it certainly smells nice,” Daine said.

“Tastes even nicer! Try it!” I insisted.

He took a tentative bite, chewing slowly. His eyes widened—his pupils dilating to saucers before constricting to pinpricks. He swallowed hastily. “Wow, that actually isn’t bad. I might even say that it’s good .” He shoved another bite into his mouth. And then another.

“Kizzi brought something good ? I’ve got to try this!” a voice announced.

“Me, too!”

Before I knew it, I had served chili to dozens of folk, my cauldron was half empty, and I hadn’t enjoyed any of the potluck aside from my initial tea and croissant.

“Hey, Linc!” I hopped off my stool, reached out and grasped the human’s arm. He was tall, but lanky, and his brown hair was cropped close to his scalp. His eyes widened in surprise when I caught his attention. “Can you make sure nothing happens to my chili while I step away?”

“Uh… Sure. Do you want me to serve any?” He asked, flummoxed.

I shrugged. “If you want to. Just make sure no critters get into it. And protect my cauldron, too.”

“How am I supposed to do that?”

“I’m sure you’ll figure something out. Oh, and Linc?”

“Yep?”

“If something happens to my cauldron, I’ll skin you alive and wear you like a coat.”

“Oh… Okay. Fair enough.” He only looked mildly frightened. I was losing my touch.

“Thanks!” I grabbed my plate and mug and bolted away from my table. My cheeks ached from the ferocity of my smile. My chili was a hit! Everyone loved it!

Nothing could bring me down—I was riding a high.

I skipped to the far end of the park where Tandor’s table always was, craving a crisp, refreshing beverage. A crowd surrounded his table, everyone chatting and laughing loudly. My curiosity piqued. I gently (with my elbows pointed outward) shoved my way through the crowd to the table.

“Hi, boo boo hands!” I greeted Tandor when I finally made my way to the front. The orc had removed his shirt and ripped it into strips, using those to wrap his wounded palms. He was sweating slightly, and his muscles glistened in the sunlight. He poured his brew into mugs with impressive efficiency.

He was truly a sight to behold.

My eyes traveled over his arms, past his bulging shoulders, down his chest, to his stomach… lower…

I yanked my gaze back to his face to find him already watching me. He cracked a crooked smile. “I was wondering when you were going to make it over here. I was afraid it was going to run out before you got to try it.”

“I’ve been a little busy. Try what?” I lifted onto my toes to get a better look into the mugs surrounding me, but I couldn't see much.

“You’ll see.” He winked and snatched my mug from where it dangled by my side.

He filled it with liquid, his bandaged hands turning the knob on the barrel with practiced precision. His eyes danced with anticipation. He carefully handed the mug back to me—it was filled to the brim.

“You won’t tell me what it is?”

“Nope.” His smug smile grew.

“Is it going to kill me?”

“Try it and find out.”

I shrugged, lifting the mug to my mouth for a hearty swallow. My eyes rolled to the back of my head, and I let out an ungodly groan before swallowing again. And again. The rich, smooth flavor rolled over my tongue and down my throat like it belonged there. By the time I finally came up for air, Tandor was laughing heartily with a massive smile on his face. His small lower tusks gleamed in the sunlight.

“That bad, huh?” he asked. His cheeks were flushed a warm healthy green color.

“Terrible.” I held my mug out to him. “More, please?” I smiled sweetly at him and batted my eyelashes.

“For you, I guess.” He poured me another mug full, and then filled another mug for himself. I held mine out for a toast.

“What are we toasting to?” he asked.

“To your Gods-blessed hands, for creating the most astoundingly delicious thing I have ever tasted. Even if they are burnt right now.”

He chuckled. “I suppose I’ll take that.” He clinked his mug to mine and we both swallowed.

“Has Fiella been by yet?” I asked.

“She has. She said the lavender blueberry was better.”

“Hmm. That’s a load of shit.”

“That’s exactly what I said.” He turned to fill another mug for someone else.

“Can I just stay over here with you for the rest of the day?” I joked.

“Who will hand out your… chili?” His voice was strangely tight.

I shrugged. “Someone will, I’m sure. Linc is watching it right now. Speaking of my chili. Do you want some?”

“Oh!” He fumbled nervously for another mug. “Maybe later. I’m full right now.”

“Suit yourself. It’s been quite a hit.”

“It has?”

I tilted my head. “Is that surprising?”

He choked. “Of course not! Of course not,” he stammered hurriedly.

An amused chuckle escaped my mouth. “I’m surprised, honestly. It turned out so much better than I expected it to.”

“Kizzi!” Fiella called from a few paces away. “You’ve got to come try this cake!”

Oh, fuck yeah. I love the Moonvale potluck.

“That’s my cue. Thanks! Come by my shop tonight and I’ll treat those hands with some healing salve, I can tell they’re really bothering you.” I reached forward and patted Tandor on the back of the hand before whirling and weaving through the crowd to find my best friend.

H ours later, the suns began their journey to the horizon and daylight began to fade. My stomach threatened to burst. It was actually painful. I had tried as many foods as possible until I physically couldn’t swallow anymore.

There were pastries, cakes, sandwiches, stews, rice dishes, smoked meats, sour drinks. Lunette had made an incredible leafy salad. Velline brought spicy ginger juice.

My favorite treats were the new cider from Tandor, and the gooey chocolate cake from Mitz.

The rare steak from a wolf shifter was my least favorite. I shivered when I thought about that one—it had been a struggle to swallow.

And my chili was gone. Every single spoonful of it. I was pretty sure Linc had licked the cauldron clean.

Empty, the cauldron wasn’t nearly as difficult to carry. I hoisted it up, braced it against my hip, and hauled it back to my apothecary.

My shop was strangely still when I entered. I didn’t sense a single flicker of movement, I didn’t catch any flutters from the corner of my eye, and I didn’t hear any of the telltale sounds of tiny creatures finding hiding spaces.

My ears pricked to attention, straining to hear something . Anything.

There was nothing to be heard—not even a popping bubble in a cauldron. The sprites must’ve really taken my last threat to heart.

I dumped the cauldron onto the floor and picked up a cloth, a bucket, and a container of soapy solvent. I couldn’t afford to let this cauldron stay dirty like the large one had. I glanced to the corner and stuck my tongue out at it, just for fun.

Then I got to scrubbing.

The shop felt weird without the irritating presence of the sprites. It was almost… lonely.

How pathetic that my biggest pests had become a twisted sort of comfort.

I didn’t particularly enjoy the solitude. I kept turning my head sharply, hoping to catch a sneaky sprite unawares, but there were no sneaky movements to be caught. I huffed out a sigh. “Where did you go, you little assholes? Decided to go bother the other witches instead?”

Silence.

The cauldron was easy to clean, all things considered. I set it out to dry and packed away my cleaning instruments in no time. If only all messes were this easily disposed of.

I made a final sweep of my apothecary, tucking baskets into their nooks, tightening jar lids, tossing dirty cloths into the wash bin. Satisfied with the contained, organized chaos of the shop, I got myself ready for bed.

I brushed my hair, still smooth and wavy from last night’s braids, and twisted it back into a loose knot to keep it out of my face. I was standing over my wash bin in my undergarments, washing my trousers, when a knock sounded at the front door. Harsh and loud.

BANG. BANG. BANG.

I froze. My muscles locked and my ears flicked to attention.

The racket was jarring in the unnatural quiet of my shop, kickstarting my heart to a dangerous rhythm.

Then I remembered the instructions I had given Tandor earlier—to swing by my shop for some salve for his burns. My muscles slowly relaxed from their tense position.

“Gods almighty! You’re going to break the door down, hang on!” I grabbed a dressing gown and tossed it over my shoulders, hastily pulling it shut while I scurried to the front door.

“Why is the door locked?” Tandor’s deep voice boomed, slightly muffled through the wood.

I unlocked the latch and pulled the door open quickly. “Because it’s nighttime? I forgot you were coming by!” I looked behind Tandor to the folk milling about. The streets were more lively than usual—the potluck attendees must have not wanted the festivities to come to an end.

“Oh, is it nighttime? Huh. I guess it is.” He glanced around awkwardly. “Do you want me to come back in the morning?” His gaze landed on my face and then slid down slowly. To my throat. To the vee of the dressing gown. To my bare feet. His eyes jumped away immediately, back to the empty shop behind me. “Or I could go see Velline…”

I shuffled my feet, feeling strangely exposed even though I was fully covered. “No, no, come on in, I’m still up. It’s my fault that you’re hurt. I can help.”

I stepped back, pulled the door open wide, and held my hand out in a gesture to let him pass. He had to duck his head just slightly to step through the door, and his body took up most of the door frame. I always forgot how huge he was, but suddenly I felt crowded. Like there wasn’t enough air in the room. He stepped past me quickly.

I pulled the door shut with a resounding clang.

Something about nighttime, the darkness creeping in, made the shop feel entirely too small—like I needed to throw the arched windows open and stick my head out to get a deep breath.

I cleared my throat. “So, how did the hands hold up? Were you miserable all day?”

His ears twitched. “It was… alright.”

I cracked a smile at his embarrassment. “You don’t have to lie to me—I know burns are unbelievably painful. You forget that I deal with hot cauldrons every single day, I’ve been burnt more times than I can count.”

“Well, it definitely wasn’t pleasant. But if I drank enough cider, I could almost dull the edge of it.”

I nodded sagely. “That is a good tip. Maybe you should start picking up shifts with Velline over at Moonvale Medical.”

“Very funny. I didn’t really have a choice, now did I?”

“I suppose you didn’t. Now let’s see if we can do something about your little situation.” I pulled my rickety work stool out for him to sit on but thought better of it. He might crush the thing. Instead, I retrieved a sturdier stool for him from the back. “Sit.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He sat obediently and rested his hands on his knees, palms up. They were still wrapped in the strips of his shirt, but he must have grabbed another before he came over here because he was now fully clothed.

Bummer. I chuckled to myself at the thought, imagining a man showing up at my door, half naked, at night, and how scandalous that would be.

He lifted an eyebrow. “What’s so funny?”

“Oh nothing, I just noticed you have a shirt on again. May I?” I asked, gesturing to his wrappings.

“You’re in charge here.”

I rolled my eyes. His blisters had burst throughout the day, and the cloth was soaked through with sticky blood. I tsked in dismay. “Gods, Tandor. This is worse than I thought. We should’ve taken care of this earlier.”

He just shrugged, but I could see the way his back was ramrod straight, and the way the muscle in his jaw twitched when I started to remove the bandages. I worked slowly, carefully, barely touching him. My grip was as light as the brush of a butterfly’s wing. Still, I could practically smell the discomfort radiating from him.

“So, about that cider…” I said as a distraction. “That sure was something.”

“Oh, that. One of my best, I’d say.” His voice was strained.

“You’re not wrong there. What’s in it? I could taste the cinnamon, but I didn’t recognize the rest of it. What else?”

One hand was now free of its wrap, and I moved on to the other, using the same feather light touch.

“Pumpkin, mostly.”

“Pumpkin? I’ve never had that in a drink before, no wonder I didn’t recognize it. Pumpkin doesn’t grow around here, how in the realms did you get it?”

“It wasn’t easy. But I found a trader who would source some for me. For a hefty price, of course.”

“Can they get you any more?”

He tilted his head. “Why? Do you need a pumpkin for something?”

I shrugged. “Maybe. I’ve heard it can be used to enhance potion recipes. But really, I was hoping you would get yourself some more.”

I flicked my gaze up to his face to find him already watching me. It was strange seeing him at this level—I was so used to craning my neck and looking up at him. I returned my attention to his hands, pulling off the final bandage and discarding it in a waste basket.

He let out a quiet sigh of relief and lightly curled his fingers before straightening them out again. “I had the same idea. I think I might add spiced pumpkin to the normal cider rotation, if I can. If only we could grow pumpkins in Moonvale.”

I hummed in contemplation. “Has anyone ever tried?”

“You know what, I’m not sure. I had assumed so, but I’ve never witnessed it. We could talk Lunette about it, see if she has any ideas.”

I nodded. Surely, there had to be a way. Maybe the coven could do something about that.

I wandered over to one of my shelves, flipping through containers until I found what I was looking for. “Don’t touch anything, let your hands breathe for a few moments.”

“Whatever you say, princess.”

That damned nickname again. I flipped him off over my shoulder. He huffed out a quiet laugh.

I collected the ingredients I needed: two mushroom stalks, a dried dragonfly wing, a spoonful of rainwater, three hairs from a baby squirrel, and a dash of cinnamon. I brought them over to my mortar and pestle and got to work, grinding the ingredients into a smooth pulp while humming an enchantment.

Mentally, I sang a song. Oh, mother of the Old Gods, grant me the healing touch. Grace me with your magic, your strength, so that I may sooth what has been burned.

I didn’t have to sing or chant to get my magic flowing, but it always helped. I used less energy that way. The words came almost instinctively—I didn’t recall ever learning them or memorizing them, but they always came to mind in times of need.

The salve came together quickly, forming a thick paste. I gave it a quick sniff to make sure it smelled right.

Luckily, it did.

Screw you, sprites, wherever you are. A quick glance around the shop showed that they still hadn’t returned.

When I turned to Tandor, I found him staring intently at the corner, his eyes burning a hole into the side of the giant cauldron. It was still covered, but the sheet looked different. I would have to examine it later.

“Uh, Kizzi.” He tilted his head. “What are you making over there?”

“Nothing. Why do you ask?”

“Nothing? Really? I don’t know, there’s something about it…”

I shook my head. “It’s nothing. I need to clean it out, is all. I don’t want to talk about it.”

He stared at the cauldron for a few moments more before finally tearing his gaze away. “If you say so. Let me know if you need help—that thing must be heavy.”

“You want to help with another cauldron?”

He glanced down at his hands. “You’re right, maybe that’s not a great idea.”

I smiled. “Maybe not. Thanks for offering, though.” I set the healing salve down and snatched a clean cloth out of a bucket, wetting it with cold water. I approached timidly, stepping into his personal space. “Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

“I’ll go easy on you.” I cleaned his hands quickly, removing all traces of dried blood, dirt, and cider. He held dutifully still, his muscles strung tight as a bowstring. He hardly even breathed.

This close, I could smell the gentle musk drifting from his skin. It was surprisingly pleasant. Like rain, but warmer. A soothing rain. The rain during the mild season. And a hint of something spicy that I couldn’t put my finger on.

“How are you doing over there?” I asked, peeking up at his face. His expression was strained, his cheeks a paler green than usual.

“Great,” he gritted out between clenched teeth. “Thank you.”

“It’ll be over soon,” I promised.

He nodded hastily.

“Just the salve, then I’ll wrap them up again, and then we’re done. Think you can handle that?”

He kept nodding, his head continuously bobbing. I think he’s broken . Poor guy.

“You’re tough. You got this,” I insisted. The nodding continued.

I tossed the blood-spotted cloth into the wash basin and grabbed the salve mixture, holding the pestle out for him to examine. “Okay?”

“Do I want to know what’s in it?” he asked.

“Probably not. But I swear, it’ll help.”

“Go ahead, then.” He refused to watch while I gently slathered the mixture onto his palms, instead examining my face. When the salve touched his skin, he let out a deep, relieved breath. I worked carefully, one finger at a time, taking care to coat every bit of damaged skin. I layered extra onto the bleeding bits.

“Better?” I asked.

“So much better,” he sighed. His strained posture finally relaxed, and he slumped on his stool. His knees drifted open slightly, one of them bumped into my hip. I pretended I didn’t notice. It was probably an accident.

Tandor was completely relaxed by the time I finished applying the salve, looking as comfortable and at ease as he usually did. It was a relief to see—tense Tandor was unnerving.

“Let me grab some clean bandages. I have a stack around here somewhere. I hate to break it to you, but I’m going to burn those shirt strips.”

“I think I’ll live. Are you going to perform a witchy ritual with them?”

I snorted. “Maybe I will. Mind your business.”

I found the bandages tucked in a basket next to my collection of plucked flower petals.

“Almost done. Ready?” I held up the bandages. Obediently, he raised his paste-smeared hands, his elbows propped against his knees. To see such a huge, intimidating orc curled over on a stool with his wounded hands propped up was certainly… something. I fought the smile that threatened to lift my cheeks.

I stepped into his space again, grabbed a bandage, and got to work. I grasped his wrist for stability with one hand while I gently wound the fabric with the other. I started the wrap around his thumb, on the meaty flesh there, where the burns were the deepest. I wrapped it twice. Then around the palm, again, and the fingers. One at a time. Tandor’s warm breath tickled my face as it drifted past me. I tied the bandage into a neat knot. Not beautiful, but it would do.

Next hand.

I picked up another bandage. I started with his thumb, again. This hand was burnt a little worse. I added an extra layer to his palm before moving onto his fingers. Pinky first. Then the third finger. Middle finger. Pointer.

“Kizzi.”

“Hmm?” I glanced up, and my gaze collided with liquid onyx. I was trapped like a fly in honey. His face was much, much closer than I expected it to be.

I was frozen. Our faces were mere inches apart.

His gaze flicked down to my mouth briefly before returning to my eyes. Heat traveled up my neck, over my cheeks, settled in the tips of my ears.

My hands were still hovering over his palm, gripping the tail of the bandage, and he slowly curled his fingers into the fabric.

I couldn’t help it—I leaned toward him and let my eyelids fall shut.

BANG.

BANG. BANG. BANG. BANG.

I gasped, breaking through the weird trance I had fallen in.

What the fuck was that? Was I about to kiss him? Where the fuck did that come from? Hot embarrassment flamed in my cheeks.

Bewildered, I scurried backward, unable to meet Tandor’s gaze.

“Is that the door?” he asked.

“Sure sounds like it.”

He cleared his throat. “Expecting someone else?” His voice was full of gravel.

“No.”

“Oh. Who would just show up to a business at night?”

“Besides you?”

He glanced at me sideways. “Besides me.”

“I don’t know!”

“Are you going to answer it?”

BANG. BANG. BANG.

Thankfully, the distraction lightened the strange tension that had settled over the room. I hoped Tandor wasn’t feeling it as thoroughly as I was—maybe he didn’t notice how close I had come to planting a big fat unsolicited smooch on him.

“I guess I have to. Will you protect me if it’s a monster?” I joked. There were no monsters in Moonvale.

“Of course, princess.”

That damn nickname. My cheeks warmed for some reason. I yanked the waist tie on my dressing gown impossibly tighter before I stomped over to the front door.

“This better be good!” I shouted to the nighttime intruder as I yanked the door open. What I saw perplexed me. “What the fuck. Linc? What are you doing here?”

He smiled broadly. “I came to see you, of course!” He spread his arms wide, beckoning me into a hug.

What. The. Fuck.