Cauldrons and Cat Tails (Moonvale Matches #2)

27. Kizzi

CHAPTER 27

Kizzi

G uilt gnawed at my stomach like acid. I couldn’t even enjoy the cocoa coffee beverage that Tandor had brought me, tentatively leaving it beside the bed when I refused to get up while he was watching me.

I didn’t know how to face him.

I had gotten carried away last night, lost in the enjoyment of the evening, the warmth of his presence, the comfortable familiarity.

I had almost let him have his way with me. Gods, how I wanted him to have his way with me. I would have let that orc do whatever he wanted; I was putty in his hands.

And then I remembered the love potion.

I yanked the blanket over my head to wallow in my misery.

For a split second, I almost fucked him anyway. Did that make me a monster? Maybe. But Gods .

Guilt and pleasure fought for dominance as I remembered the way Tandor had kissed me, the way he dragged his hands over my skin, the way he…

I scrubbed my hands over my face with a groan.

Monster. Definitely a monster.

He didn’t actually want to be with me. It was just the love potion warping his mind, influencing his free will, taking away his choices. And I couldn’t even tell him about it. Because if I admitted that I accidentally drugged him, he would never forgive me.

And I wanted him to forgive me. Oh, how I wanted him to forgive me. A secret, sick part of me hoped that once Tandor was cured, and was no longer influenced by the love potion, that he would want me anyway.

That he would still be sweet to me, and kind to me, and flirty to me.

And would still want to toss me around and drag his teeth over my skin.

Maybe… just maybe…

And if not, I would shove the feelings down, go back to being his friend, and accept the fact that I was the dumbest bitch in the entire realm.

After long miserable minutes, I dragged myself out of bed. The cool air punched me immediately. I picked up the mug of cocoa coffee and gave it a sniff. It smelled incredible, bitter and sweet in a perfect harmony. It was still a bit warm.

I drank the beverage greedily, enjoying every single swallow, ignoring the way it churned in my stomach.

My heart twinged when I thought about the orc that had brought it to me.

Did he want to bring it to me, or did the love potion make him do it?

The cocoa roiled, threatening to reappear.

I dragged myself to my bag to change clothes. I took advantage of the washbasin in the corner, getting myself in order, trying to look presentable even though darkness ringed my eyes from my fitful night of sleep. I fastened a chain around my neck, a new necklace I bought myself in Tidegrove.

I glanced around the room. Tandor hadn’t returned, but the fire was stoked. He had tended to it that morning, even though I knew he wasn’t cold.

Love potion? Real kindness? I wanted to throw up. I couldn't take the uncertainty anymore.

Hex sat in their jar, curled up in the bottom. They looked almost as sad as I was. I picked up the jar. “Hi,” I said quietly. I pulled the lid off and set it aside.

Hex stirred and let a bubble pop.

I sighed. “I know, buddy.”

Hex slowly slid out of the jar and onto my hand.

“You really think so? I’m not sure…”

I placed them onto my shoulder where they nestled into my hair. I briefly worried that they would get stuck in the curly strands.

That would be a future problem.

I slipped out of the tent and into the bright, cold air. I missed the tent’s warmth immediately.

I missed Tandor’s warmth even more.

Speaking of Tandor, the orc was perched on the corner of the tent platform, braiding together strands of grass. There was a small pile of braids on the platform next to him, as though he had been waiting for ages.

Nausea churned in my gut.

He stood up slowly, quickly brushing the grass aside and dusting his hands on his trousers. He gave me a tentative wave. “Good morning,” he said.

I tried to force a smile onto my cheeks, but my face felt like plaster. “Good morning.”

He nodded curtly. “Want to talk about it?” he asked. Hope lifted his brows.

I grimaced and shook my head. “I’m sorry,” I said simply. I couldn’t string any other words together to depict my tattered thoughts.

His face fell. “Whenever you’re ready to speak, I’m ready to listen.”

I swallowed tightly. “Thank you.”

He nodded, sticking his hand out to gesture in front of him. The same hands that had trailed over my skin last night. I yanked my gaze away.

“After you,” he said. “Let’s go find some cauldrons and secret ingredients.”

An ember of hope burned in my chest. A cure. If I could find a cure, I could know for sure.

“Let’s,” I agreed. I strode in front of him into town, following the flow of folk into the market.

M y fingers danced over sparkling stones and crystals, admiring their unique shine.

The mountain mines surrounding Rockward produced the most beautiful stones and the rarest gems. Folk traveled from the far reaches of the realm for the chance to mine their own sparkling treasures alongside the reclusive mining gnomes.

I knew the ironwork shop down the road should have been my first target, but I could admit it—I was stalling.

And I was a sucker for a pretty crystal.

My attention caught on a particularly lovely geodite sphere. I picked it up, tossing it between my palms. The stone radiated a strange magical energy. Something that felt wise and ancient. Like if I held it long enough, a few strands of my hair would turn silver.

The shopkeeper noticed my attention. “A good choice,” the old man murmured. He nodded sagely. “I see it has chosen you as much as you have chosen it.”

I glanced at him warily. He could sense that? Perhaps he was a wizard—it was hard to be certain. I couldn’t tell if he oozed magic, or if the shop was overwhelming my senses. “I thought it was pretty.”

His wrinkled cheeks lifted into a smile. “Of course. Usually, this one would cost four silvers, but you’re special. Two silvers, please.”

“Oh, I’ll pay four,” I insisted. I fumbled around in my satchel and placed the coins on the counter. “I like to support my fellow businessfolk.”

He simply tilted his head before turning around and returning to his rearrangement of the shelves.

What a peculiar interaction.

As I left the shop, my satchel heavier, I tucked my hands in the pocket of my cloak.

Something cold and metallic met my fingertips.

The two silver coins.

I sighed. When I tried to turn, the door had a “Closed” sign on it, and the lights were dim.

I fumbled with the two silver coins as I made my way to the ironwork shop. I had spent an alarming number of silvers in the recent weeks. I wasn’t one to turn down a bargain, but I liked to pay my dues. I didn’t want to owe anyone anything.

I felt strangely off kilter.

I spotted Tandor’s glossy black hair at the end of the road as I slipped into the shop that I was pretty sure would have a cauldron large enough to suit my needs. He was perched on a bench, bent over, feeding cookie crumbs to a small fluffy squirrel. I huffed out a snort at the sight.

A rush of warm air blanketed me as I stepped into the ironwork shop. The heat was almost stifling after adjusting to the cold, dry air outside. Something brushed against my ankle, exiting at the same time I was entering. I caught a flash of white fur.

Damn, why does everyone get to have a cat friend except me?

Hex shuffled, slipping out from my hair and onto my shoulder. I batted them back under the cover of my curls. I didn’t need anyone spotting them and asking questions. “No,” I whispered. “You have to stay hidden.”

Hex yanked on a strand of my hair.

“Bitch,” I hissed.

They pulled out two more hairs.

I let that slide, rubbing my fingers against my now-sore scalp. I knew when to admit defeat.

A fire roared in the back of the shop. Clanking sounded from the forge, but I couldn’t see anyone.

I caught a glimpse of a telltale blur of vision from the corner of my eye. Sprites. With a surge, I missed my shop sprites. Somewhere along the line, I had started considering them my sprites. My little buddies. My little pests.

The thought was as nauseating as it was heartwarming. Whoever ran this shop must have been dealing with them too. Poor sap.

I spotted promising cauldrons immediately. The right wall was lined with them in varying sizes. Some were even a shining gold color. I wandered over, trailing my fingers over the gorgeous gold material.

The price tag made my eyes pop out of my skull. I immediately moved to the less flashy black cauldrons.

A short witch emerged from the back. “Got your eye on a cauldron, huh?” she asked.

I nodded with a smile. “I sure do. The biggest one you’ve got.”

She raised her eyebrows, pulling a cloth from her apron to dab at her damp forehead. “The biggest? You sure? That’s a lot of cauldron to work with.”

I nodded again. “The biggest. Huge. I run an apothecary over by the Greenwood Forest,” I said by way of explanation. “Moonvale.”

That jogged her memory. “You’re Kizzi, ain’t ya? I’ve heard of ya. Good brews, you make. The witches talk about how crisp they are. How effective.” She looked at me through slightly squinted eyes. “I think I’ve got something that’ll get the job done.”

The air rushed out of my lungs in a huff. “Thank you.”

She ushered me to the back corner of the shop, where boxes and crates were stacked up. She shoved some of them aside.

An involuntary gasp escaped my lips. Even Hex stirred where they were tucked in my hair, slipping forward for a peek.

The cauldron was glorious. It was massive, maybe even bigger than what I had before. The material was a smooth, luxurious coated cast iron. I could feel the magic humming off it in gentle waves, as though it had been made with great care and intention.

It was perched on a wooden slab that protected the four short feet from touching the ground. And it probably weighed as much as five adult witches.

It was perfect.

“I can see the light glimmering in your eyes,” the witch laughed. “I take it this’ll do?”

I schooled my expression into something less embarrassing. I didn’t want to drool all over myself. “This’ll do. How much?”

She tilted her head. “Five hundred silvers.”

My joy quelled. That many silvers could buy an entire cottage in Moonvale. It would entirely drain my coffers.

But I had to do it. I gulped down the bile rising in my throat. “Five hundred it is. Can I come pick it up in a bit?”

“Sure, hon. You going to be able to get that thing back to the Greenwood? That’s across the realm.” She skeptically eyed my arms, which clearly weren’t laden with muscle.

“I brought a friend.” I pulled my coin pouch from my satchel and counted out the coins. By the luck of the fates, I had exactly five hundred. After this purchase, I would only have two silvers left—the two that were still resting in my cloak pocket.

I silently prayed to the Old Gods that the dried dragon eggshells wouldn’t be too expensive. If they were, I would have to figure out a backup plan. Returning to Moonvale without them was not an option. Perhaps I could get a loan of some sort.

I felt nauseous as I handed the pouch to the witch. “Don’t spend it all in one place,” I joked.

She gave me a tight smile. “Just come back to pick it up before dark—I lock up when the suns start to sink.”

“I’ll make that happen. Thank you!”

As I turned to flee, the witch held a hand up. “Oh, miss, you’ve got a little—” she gestured to her neck, indicating I had something there. I reached toward my throat. My fingers brushed against Hex, in their more solid form, where they were entirely visible. And looked like… like purple slime. Stuck in my hair, sitting on my shoulder. This witch probably thought I was nuts.

“Ah, right. I’ll take care of… this situation.” I slipped out of the shop without another word, letting the cold mountain air shock me back to my senses.