Cauldrons and Cat Tails (Moonvale Matches #2)

12. Kizzi

CHAPTER 12

Kizzi

M y stomach churned with dread. My minor aches were forgotten, the strange joy of having the sprites return evaporated in an instant.

What I had been doing before I blacked out slowly came back to me. I had been hunched over the cauldron, shouting, and I had started to cry. And then the boom—I was tossed across the room. And then I woke up staring into Tandor’s concerned face.

It was the cauldron.

The cauldron sat in the corner, but something was different—it was cracked down the middle.

My treasured cauldron was broken. Ruined. A cracked cauldron was a witch’s worst nightmare. I gulped, feeling the blood drain from my face. My ears drooped. The coven was going to be pissed that I ruined our biggest cauldron just weeks before Hallow’s Eve.

A small wisp of smoke curled up and drifted away, dispersing into nothing.

Slowly, carefully, I approached the corner. The air surrounding the cauldron vibrated with so much magic that it was almost painful. My teeth chattered and my hair fluttered on a phantom breeze.

I reached the cauldron. Leaned forward. And hesitantly looked inside.

It was empty. Completely empty. Not even a crumb of residue, or a drop of liquid remained. “What in the realms?” I asked aloud.

“What is it?” Tandor asked. I jumped, his voice startling me.

“It’s… nothing. Absolutely nothing.”

“Then why do you look like you’re going to throw up?” He approached with timid steps.

“Because that’s a problem. It wasn’t nothing before…”

I leaned further into the cauldron to be sure, ignoring the overwhelming waves of magic, but there was nothing remaining. No ashes, no evidence of any kind.

“Before?” he asked gently.

“Before the explosion.”

“Okay… can you explain that more?”

I nodded, trying to gather myself. I walked over to my stool and sat down, and Tandor followed, sitting as well. I massaged my temples.

One of the tiny sprites settled onto my head and massaged my scalp with nimble fingers. Strangely enough, it helped ease the ache.

I explained the situation to the orc, and he listened intently. I told him about how the cauldron had started out as a failed potion brew with too much magical oomph behind it. How the sprites had probably added things to it. How I had let it sit for days, not wanting to clean it. How it started off as half-full, and eventually (damned sprites) expanded.

“You could have asked me for help, I would have hauled it to the Barren Lands for you,” Tandor interrupted.

I smiled slightly. “In hindsight, I probably should have. I thought I could handle it.”

I continued my story. About the cauldron sludge growing. About how I had been shouting at it, and then how I cried, and the boom that followed, throwing me across the room.

“And then you arrived,” I finished. “And now you’re all caught up.”

He nodded slowly, absorbing. “Okay… so the cauldron sludge exploded and just… vanished?”

“Yep.”

“And this is a bad thing?”

“It’s definitely not great. There’s no residue, no ash, no remains. It didn’t burn. It didn’t dry out. So where did it go?”

He pondered this. “Did you cast some sort of disappearing spell?”

I shook my head. “No, no I didn’t cast anything. Not intentionally, anyway.”

“Do things happen accidentally sometimes?”

“They shouldn’t, but things have been so weird lately…”

A new voice called out from across the room. “Hey, Kizzi!”

I damn near jumped out of my skin. I glanced at the door to find it splintered and broken, floating open on its hinges. Standing in the entryway was Linc, looking much more himself than he had last night, aside from a strange sheen in his eyes. “Linc. You’re back. Fantastic.”

I shot an accusatory glance at Tandor to find him gnawing on his lower lip nervously. His small tusks poked out between his full lips. “It was an emergency. Sorry about that. Don’t worry, I’ll fix it.”

I flapped my hand at him dismissively. “That’s a problem for later.”

Linc stepped into the shop and glanced around. “Your door is broken, by the way.” He picked up a mushroom and sniffed it.

“I had no idea, thanks!” I said dryly. “That’s toxic, by the way.” It wasn’t, but I was annoyed that he was touching my things without asking.

He dropped the fungus immediately and dusted his hands off on his trousers. He spun and faced me with a cheesy grin on his face. “It’s good to see you, Kizzi!”

“What do you need? Are you here to place an order?”

“I’m here to see you, of course,” he stated matter-of-factly.

Tandor shifted on his stool, clearing his throat. I ignored him.

“And why is that?”

He stared at me blankly, as though the answer were obvious. It certainly wasn’t obvious to me.

Tandor crossed his arms over his chest and tapped his foot against the floor. Tap tap tap tap tap tap. I just stood there, unsure what to do. Linc and I weren’t necessarily friends—we had only spoken in passing when seeing each other around town. The interaction at the potluck was the longest conversation we’d ever had, as far as I could remember.

“Are you going to buy anything?” I asked.

He gazed longingly into a jar filled with berry powders. “No, I don’t think so.” He continued to wander, just looking upon the items filling my shop.

After long, awkward moments, I said, “Well, you’ve seen me. You can go now.”

Linc smiled brightly. “Okay, then! This was nice, I would love to do it again some time!” And with that, he abruptly strode out through the broken door.

Tandor chuckled quietly under his breath, a deep rumble that vibrated the air around him. “Well, that was fun!” he joked.

“Shut up,” I grumbled. “That was painful.”

“I’m just glad to see him up and moving, after last night.”

I whirled to face him. “Last night? What happened last night, do you mean after he tried to get in here?”

His lips flattened into a line. “I saw him after I left. I was taking a stroll through the park and, what do you know, our human friend was sitting on a bench, looking… lost. Dazed, almost. I didn’t want to leave him out there, so I had to practically carry him back to his cottage. It was bizarre.”

“And you’re just telling me this now? That he was waiting for me?”

“It slipped my mind—I was a little busy finding you unconscious on the floor…”

My cheeks warmed. “I suppose that’s fair enough. I must have really given him the wrong idea at the potluck?—”

The broken door swung open again.

I groaned, dropping my head into my hands. “Who is it?” I asked.

Lunette, the lovely druid who ran the plant shop, tentatively strolled in. She looked vaguely confused. Her long orange hair was twisted back into an intricate braid with leaves strung throughout and a pretty gray cloak adorned her tall frame. She was followed by a werewolf man with an intimidating muscular build and shaggy white hair who looked just as confused, if not more so. Both of their eyes held a strange glossy sheen.

Lunette’s twinkling voice was quiet in the now-crowded space. “Hi, Kiz.”

My annoyance dropped. “Oh, hello Lu. What can I do for you? Do you need more of those fertilizing powders for your plants?”

She drifted toward me, her cheeks flushed. “No, no, I still have plenty from my last order.”

“Oh…kay,” I said. “Something else then?”

She swallowed tightly. “I just had the strangest urge to come see you. I don’t really know why, it’s just this—this pull in my chest. This weird nagging to visit.” She drifted even closer but stopped herself before she touched me, hovering right inside my personal space. Her unique cherry scent drifted over me in a pleasant wave. I inhaled deeper than I necessarily needed to.

Lunette had always been friendly, and I enjoyed talking with her. We bonded over our shared love of poisonous plants and pretty flowers, and she always had the best gossip. And she was beautiful—nobody could deny that. But through the years of knowing each other, there had never been a romantic spark.

But the way she was staring at me now made me wonder…

I gazed into her eyes, examining the strange sheen there. The same sheen that was in Linc’s eyes. And Mayor Tommins’. I didn’t remember Tandor’s eyes being glossy, but I glanced at him to check, only to find him scrubbing his eyes with his fists and quietly sniffling. An opened jar of snapdragon pollen sat beside him that he had clearly been tinkering with. I stifled a laugh. Idiot.

The white-haired werewolf hovered near the door, watching Lunette with a keen eye but not looking like he wanted to come in any further.

“Lu?” I asked cautiously.

“Yeah?”

“Are you… are you feeling okay?”

“I do feel a bit strange…” she admitted. She pressed the backs of her spindly fingers to her cheeks. “A little warm, I guess. My skin is a little flushed. My heart is beating too fast.”

“Why don’t you go sleep it off, and we’ll grab coffee and pastries sometime soon?” I suggested.

She considered this. “Sure, that sounds lovely. I have all kinds of fun gossip I gathered during the potluck, and I’ve been dying to share it. See you!” She lifted her arm like she was going to wrap it around my shoulders before she stopped herself and let it drop to her side.

“Bye.” I smiled tightly and fluttered my fingers at her.

She gave me one last wistful but confused look before she exited with the white-haired wolf following closely behind her.

Tandor stood up from his stool. “Gods almighty are you popular today!” he declared, stretching his shoulders and rolling out his neck. His muscles bulged beneath his tunic at the motion. “I better get going, in case you need to entertain more visitors.” He dropped his arms and looked at me intently. “Are you sure you’re alright? Do you need to visit Velline? I can carry you there.”

I blushed at the suggestion, but I flexed my arms, legs, and neck to be sure. My aches were minor—nothing that a simple healing potion wouldn’t fix. The ringing in my ears was more annoying than painful. “I’m okay. Really. Thank you, though, for checking on me.”

He stared at me for a moment longer before nodding reluctantly. “I’m glad you’re alright. You gave me a fright there—don’t do that again.”

“Yes, sir. I promise you won’t find me unconscious on the floor again. Well, I can’t actually promise , but I will try very hard to make sure it doesn’t happen.”

He hesitated for a moment, looking like he might argue. Conflict clouded his gaze. “As long as you promise. See you later, Kizzi.” He strode out of the shop and pulled the broken door shut behind him. It immediately swung back open. “Uh,” he stammered. “I’ll fix this.”

I brushed him off. “I’ll have Redd fix i, that vampire will have it done in a blink. Don’t worry about it.”

Looking bashful, he nodded again before departing, pulling the splintered door as closed as it would go.

T he sound of hammering echoed through the shop as Redd repaired my door with fresh wood. The tall, brown-haired vampire looked disheveled and slightly dirty, as if I’d pulled him from another project. “Why did Tandor kick your door in?” he shouted over the noise. “You should have just unlocked it. This oak wood isn’t going to match.”

“I obviously didn’t want this to happen. It’s a long story,” I answered drily. “But he thought he was saving my life.”

“Saving your life, huh? Do I want to know?”

“Probably not,” I answered honestly. “But I’ll tell you anyway. So, I was making a potion, but the sprites fucked it up, so it turned into this awful sludge. I didn’t want to clean the cauldron, so I just shoved it into the corner. Long story short, the cauldron exploded and tossed me across the shop and knocked me out. And that’s when Tandor showed up.”

The hammering stopped and Redd turned to stare at me, his expression slack jawed. His fangs caught the light. “Kizzi, you can’t just tell that story like it’s something nonchalant.”

I shrugged. “Just another day as Moonvale’s favorite apothecary witch.”

He sighed in exasperation. “Fiella’s going to have a field day with this one.”

“She already knew about the cauldron, so she probably won’t be very surprised when she finds out that it blew up in my face. Literally.”

“Oh, I meant the part about Tandor kicking your door in and finding you on the ground.” He turned back to the door.

“That part? That’s the less interesting half of that story. He was just checking on me after a weird situation we had last night.”

He simply hummed in response, but I swore I saw his eyebrow quirk and a knowing smile tug at his cheek. He finished the rest of his work in comfortable silence as I flitted about the shop gathering ingredients. The sprites watched me, perched around the shelves as though they were happy to just watch me conduct my mundane activities. It was nice.

I appreciated how Redd never tried to fill silence with unnecessary words. If he didn’t have anything to say, he simply said nothing at all. It was refreshing.

When Redd eventually slipped away after a brief farewell and only accepting more of Fiella’s blue-hair tonic as payment, I made my rounds, checking the shop before going to bed.

Just because I was glad that the sprites were back didn’t mean that I trusted them… I knew they were still menaces.

The chili recipe was still sitting out on the counter, so I grabbed my fae-iron key, mumbled the unlocking spell, and pulled the cabinet open. I tucked the recipe inside, but I couldn’t fight off the nagging feeling that told me something just wasn’t right. I stared at the open cabinet for what felt like hours, trying to figure out what was out of place.

And then it hit me. My stomach dropped to the floor beneath my feet and my palms broke out in a clammy sweat.

Something was missing. And not just anything… The love potion was missing.

Fates.

I frantically searched through the cabinet, pawing aside delicate bottles, reading every single label to be sure, but my initial observation was correct.

Someone stole my love potion.

With a huff, I slammed the cabinet shut and sat on the corner of my bed. I dropped my head into my hands and fought back tears.

I wasn’t supposed to have a love potion in the first place—I just wanted to see if I could pull it off. I never intended to use it, hence why I kept it locked up. I was just proud of myself for being able to accomplish such an impressive potion brew.

And now it was gone.

Nausea roiled in my stomach. Love potions were outlawed for a reason. In the wrong hands, they could cause catastrophic consequences. Messing with a folk’s free will was never acceptable. At a high enough dose, they could warp a folk’s mind, never to return to normal.

I wallowed in misery for what felt like hours. Who could have possibly broken into my shop? I kept enchanted locks around for a reason—they were virtually infallible. Nothing else had been disturbed…

A sprite landed on my knee, fluttering into my field of vision. I swatted at it. “Get off me, you heathen. You could have stopped the thieves, and you chose not to,” I accused.

Another sprite took its place. And another. I could hardly see them, but a handful of them perched on my knees, tilting their faces up at me pleadingly.

The knot of dread in my stomach tightened. “You… No.” I stood, swiping the sprites off me and pacing across the shop. “No. No no no no no. No!”

The sprites.

The missing love potion.

The townsfolk acting so strangely…

It was all connected.

It was all my fault.

I halted my pacing and whirled to face the nearest sprite I could see, settling on one resting on the corner of my worktable. “What did you do?” I shouted at it. “How could you?!”

The glow around the sprite shrank to almost nothing. I wasn’t deterred. “You stole my love potion, didn’t you? You dropped it into the chili! Why?” I whirled to face the opposite direction. “You fucking sprites just can’t leave me alone, can you? I was glad you were back, but now I wish you never found me at all!” My anger exploded out of me in hateful waves, but I couldn’t contain it. I was ready to burst.

And then the tears started. At first, they silently streaked down my cheeks as I bolted around the room, swatting at any blurs of motion I could see and firmly closing jars and lids. And then the silent tears turned into quiet blubbering sobs.

Eventually, the sobs became deep, gut-wrenching, folding my body in half until all I could do was sink to the floor and cradle my face in my hands as I let my sadness and frustration tear through me.

I ignored the barely-there brushes against my back, along my hair, next to me on the floor.

I cried until I had nothing left. I was a shell of a witch, empty and dry.

Even my magic felt drained, though I hadn’t used any of it.

I scraped myself off the floor with all the energy I had left and flopped onto my bed.

I didn’t even notice the warm mass curled up in the bed next to me.