Cauldrons and Cat Tails (Moonvale Matches #2)

34. Kizzi

CHAPTER 34

Kizzi

M agic hummed in my veins as I milled about my apothecary, gathering ingredients and making my Hallow’s Eve preparations.

Magic always felt stronger on Hallow’s Eve—richer, more saturated—and today it felt galvanizing. The hairs on my arms stood on end.

It wasn’t an unpleasant feeling, but it was overwhelming. It took up too much of my attention. I could normally tune out magical sensations with minor effort, but it demanded to be noticed today.

The sprites were one edge, too.

They flitted around, lifting strands of my hair, jostling papers, nudging jar lids. They usually kept their mischief contained where I couldn’t see it, but they were especially rambunctious.

I had given up on trying to control them. I would simply clean the mess up later.

I packed a basket with the essentials. Dried onion skins, swan feathers, a rose quartz crystal, berries from an ancient bush, ever-tree bark, royal honey, and a few potions, tonics, and poultices.

A breeze caught my attention. I glanced up to find the front door drifting open.

“Hello?” I called out. “I’m closed for Hallow’s Eve. Sorry. If you need anything, I can grab it for you later.”

No voices answered. Nobody entered, either.

“Hello? Anyone there?”

Nothing. The door (newly repaired, thanks to Redd) creaked quietly on its hinges.

Huh. Maybe I had left it open?

I drifted toward the door, only to be stopped short. A squeal escaped my mouth.

A fluffy white cat was sitting gracefully on the floor just inside the open door. Her tail swished slowly behind her. She gazed at me with striking green eyes that peered all the way to my soul.

“No fucking way,” I whispered. “Hello!” I reined in my excitement. I reached out to the cat to pet her. She allowed me to scratch the top of her head one time before she ducked away and hopped onto a stool.

That one scratch felt like a prize.

“Is it finally my turn to get chosen by a cat? I’ve been waiting for this day!”

The cat’s ears shrank back to her head at my volume. I lowered my voice. “Sorry. I’m just excited.”

For long moments, we just stared at each other.

“Do you… want to just hang out here?” I asked the cat.

Her whiskers twitched. Her fluffy tail swished twice. I took that as an answer.

“Right. Cool. Okay. What do I do now?”

The cat curled up on the stool and closed her eyes.

“Do you have a name?” I asked, suddenly nervous. “Am I supposed to give you a name?” I thought about it for a second. For some reason, I had the feeling that I already knew her name. Like it was undeniable. “Casper?” I asked.

Her eyes flicked open. She blinked at me slowly. And then she closed her eyes again, looking quite comfortable.

I smiled. “Casper,” I said quietly to myself. What a fitting name for such a cute but intimidating little critter.

Sprites, cauldron sludge, dragon eggs, and now a cat—this place was beginning to feel like a zoo.

I secretly loved it.

M oonvale’s streets were bustling as I met with Fiella and Redd for morning tea and pastries. Lemon ginger tea with berry tarts today. Scrumptious.

The air was crisp and smelled like icy apples and leaves, a telltale sign that the mild season was firmly in the past. We sat on crunchy grass in town square park as we ate. Leaves were beginning to fall, clustering in small piles as gusts of wind brushed them aside.

“So,” I said to the two vampires. “Ready for tonight’s festivities?” I wasn’t exactly sure what they would be getting up to—and I certainly didn’t want any of the blood-sucking details—but I was nosey enough to want to hear some information.

Redd nodded as he swallowed a large gulp of tea. “We’re ready. It’s going to be fun.” He glanced at Fiella from the corner of his eye as she smiled smugly. I held down a gag.

“I’ll try not to be grossed out by that.”

“Shut up, Kiz,” Fiella laughed. “We saw Tandor in the woods last night. He’s going too.”

This piqued my interest. “Oh?”

She gave me a knowing look. “Yep. He’ll be running with the wild folk while you witches do… whatever it is you do. What are you doing?”

I waved a hand. “Oh, rituals and stuff. Nothing crazy.”

It was pretty crazy, actually. We performed the biggest rituals on Hallow’s Eve. Anything that required an abundance of magic, a pooling of power, would be performed. We would ask the Old Gods to continue supplying magic to Moonvale’s lands, we would banish evil spirits, we would seek health and longevity for any folk of ailing strength. Whatever needed to be done. We would chant and toss offerings into the cauldron until our throats went raw, if necessary.

Fiella interrupted my thoughts. “Have you talked to him?”

I quirked an eyebrow. “Have I talked to him?”

“Since you returned.”

“No.” I tried not to let my unease show on my face. “But I’m about to.”

Fiella pumped her fist in the air. “That’s my girl. Go get your man.”

I shakily rose to my feet. My sweating palms made my grip on my mug tenuous. “Wish me luck.”

“Good luck, Kiz.” Redd said with a slight smile lifting his cheek. “Knock ‘em dead. Not actually, of course. Unless you need to.”

“To the moons!” Fiella shouted at my back.

I rolled my eyes and waved at them over my shoulder. “Suns!”

I made my way to Ginny’s Pub, walking as fast as I could without breaking into a run.

Crowds of folk were lined up outside of both the pub and the diner, everyone trying to squeeze in a hearty lunch before the Hallow’s Eve celebrations kicked off in the evening. It was common Moonvale knowledge that both establishments would be closing in the early afternoon, with the two suns still high in the sky. Food available later in the day would be scarce. Mitz would be serving some delicious pastries, surely. But now was the time to fill up.

Only a few folk cast me longing glances as I passed, and almost nobody attempted to speak to me. The dragon eggshell powder must have been working. I silently thanked Tandor in my head (and myself, for coming up with the genius powder-in-drink plan).

I waited in line for a moment before I felt my nerves start to fizzle out. Drastic measures needed to be taken.

I shouldered my way through the crowd, ducking my head and pulling my cloak up so maybe folk wouldn’t notice me as I jammed my way in front of them.

Hex perched on my shoulder, bubbling in satisfaction as I weaved through the line. They were more vindictive than I was.

Damn supportive familiar . I made the slime sit as far back on my shoulder as possible, almost entirely shielded by my hair. Unless someone looked really closely, we were safe.

I wasn’t sure I wanted the entire town knowing about my “not supposed to be possible” familiar. It wasn’t that I was ashamed of them, I just felt… protective. I shivered at that. Since when was I protective of the cauldron mishap?

I was growing soft.

I spotted Tandor behind the bar as I squeezed my way through the door. I ignored any protests as I passed. I was a woman on a mission.

I slipped up to the bar counter and laid my forearms on the surface, pressing to my toes and leaning forward. Tandor hadn’t noticed me yet.

“Boo!” I shouted when he drifted closer.

He jumped, his entire body flinching as the mug he had been carrying clattered to the floor. He slapped a hand over his chest. “Gods almighty! You almost killed me, little witch.”

Manic laughter escaped my mouth. He was entirely too easy. “Hi,” I said between giggles.

“Hi,” he answered as he calmed himself. He retrieved the mug from the ground (not broken, luckily) and returned to filling glasses. He poured a goblet and slid it in my direction.

I smelled it before I took a sip. Spiced pumpkin cider. A grin split my face.

“You made more?” I asked.

“Mhm,” he answered. “It felt right for Hallow’s Eve. I started it before we left.”

I couldn’t help but agree. The rich pumpkin flavor was perfect for the turning of the seasons. I almost wished it was hot, like the mulled wine back in Rockward.

The orc drifted away for a few minutes to serve other patrons. I helped myself to one of the barstools.

When he returned, he leaned forward over the bar counter, grabbed my chin between his thumb and forefinger and tilted my head back. He planted a quick kiss on my lips before grinning, releasing me, and casually grabbing another goblet.

My cheeks flamed. I didn’t know what to say. I glanced around to see if anyone else had noticed—if any other lives had been irrevocably changed by that very sweet, very public kiss.

Nobody was staring. Just my life, then.

Tandor filled a few other drinks before returning to my end of the bar.

“Ready for tonight?” he asked.

My mind was still whirling from the chaste kiss. “I—I hope so,” I stuttered. “The cauldron will certainly do the trick.”

He glanced up, catching my eye. “I’m glad.” He smiled gently. “It sure was a lot of effort, it better be worth it.”

“It’s worth it.” Everything about the trip had been worth it.

His gaze softened. Warmed. His smile grew. It was almost like he could read my mind. “Is it?”

I nodded urgently. I braced myself, finally ready to confess my feelings. “Tandor, I?—”

He interrupted me. “Kizzi, you are the most breathtaking, impatient, nosey, kind-hearted woman I have ever met. You could brew a potion to shatter the realm, if you set your mind to it.” His voice was quiet, only for my ears. He gathered my hands in his. “I will be grateful every day that you invited me on that journey with you. Now, go ahead—” He pressed my knuckles to his lips, “—I just had to get that out.”

I gaped at him. My cheeks were burning hot—the tips of my ears absolutely flaming. “I don’t know what to say. I can’t believe you just stole my moment like that.”

The corners of his eyes wrinkled in glee. “You were about to confess your undying love for me?”

Impossibly, my cheeks heated even further. My lips refused to form words.

His eyes widened. “You were, weren’t you? In front of the entire town? Kizzi, I didn’t realize you were such a romantic!” He kissed my knuckles again. “I think this is the best day of my life.”

I laughed, any lingering tension draining away. “I was just going to tell you, since we’re back home, and things will be going back to normal?—”

“That you love me?”

“That being around you makes me feel alive. I’ve never been happier. I want to keep doing this.” I paused, gathering my thoughts. “I want to be with you, if you’ll have me.”

“Kizzi, you’ve held my heart in the palm of your hand for longer than you know.”

I melted. “I’ll take good care of it. I promise.”

I gazed into his liquid onyx eyes, getting lost in them. His smile was beautiful. I saw countless happy days in the twinkle of his eyes, the creases in his cheeks.

Somewhere behind me, someone cleared their throat.

Pulling my eyes away from Tandor’s magnetic stare, I remembered where I was—leaning over the bar in Ginger’s crowded pub.

I couldn’t muster any embarrassment. All I felt was sweet, heartwarming, soul-tingling happiness.

I straightened. “I better get out of your hair—you’ve got a line here.”

Someone muttered a bratty thank you, but I ignored it, too giddy to come up with any retorts.

Tandor released my hands, returning to his customers. “Have a happy Hallow’s Eve, little witch.”

“Happy Hallow’s Eve to you too, orc.”

“I’ll see you later,” he called out as I stood from my barstool. He drifted away.

Later? What did he mean by that?

W hen the suns began their descent, I returned to my shop to gather my supplies and don my traditional cloak and pointed witch hat.

The witches were gathering in a small clearing just inside the perimeter of the Greenwood Forest. We didn’t go in very far, only far enough to be surrounded by trees. Most of us didn’t want to hike any further, and the clearing worked perfectly.

This would be the ninth Hallow’s Eve ritual that I got to participate in. Young witches not yet to adulthood were welcome to watch, to observe the rituals, but only the adults could participate. It was safer that way.

I wasn’t the only witch hauling supplies to the clearing in the woods. Hyacinth was, too. And a few others—Giada and Giselle, the red-haired rust-complected twins and Rayna, a younger witch with hair and eyes the color of sunflower petals, all carried baskets.

We marched to the clearing like bees returning to a hive.

“Can you ladies help me with something?” I asked when every basket was placed in the clearing.

Hyacinth groaned. “What? Please tell me we don’t have to carry anything else.”

I squinted at her. “You don’t have a deep desire to help me for a reason you can’t quite put a finger on?”

She looked at me like I had two heads. “No. Not all. No offense.”

Relief flowed over me in a wave. “You don’t think I look pretty today?”

“You look fine, I guess. Your tunic is nice. I like your hat. Why are you being weird?”

“I’m just making sure.” The love potion enchantment clearly wasn’t impacting her anymore.

“Do you actually need help with something or was that some sort of theoretical question too?”

I cleared my throat. “I do need help. With carrying something.”

The black-haired witch tensed. “Carrying what?”

“Only the most important part of the entire ritual.”

“You’re joking.”

“Unfortunately, I’m not. The cauldron is in my apothecary. If we all carry it together, it won’t be that bad!”

The witches whined and complained as I corralled them into my shop. The cauldron was heavy, ridiculously so, and Tandor wasn’t around to help me move it this time.

So, five witches would have to do the trick.

We surrounded the cauldron (sans dragon eggs—those were now tucked under the covers in my bed), everyone grasping the bowl with white-knuckled fingers. On the count of three, we heaved, hardly lifting it off the ground.

“Gods! This thing is a fucking boulder!” Hyacinth complained.

I gritted my teeth. My shoulders screamed in protest. “We can do this. Just don’t let go. Let’s move.”

“My hands are going to fall off,” Giada grumbled. “Ouch.”

“Oh hush, we’ll make it. Just keep going. Okay there we go, through the door. Yep—I’ll close that later. Careful, now.”

Grunting and groaning, sweating and swearing, shuffling our feet in tiny, careful steps, we slowly carried the cauldron to the clearing in the woods. My fingertips were blistered and raw by the time we finally dropped the hunk of cast iron onto the leaf-littered ground.

Other witches were in the clearing—some faces familiar, some new. I could feel the magic dripping from them all. Warm, bubbling magic from the witches with an affinity for water. Sharp and hot magic from the witches of the flames. Nurturing magic from the witches more closely tied to nature.

If I closed my eyes and breathed in deep, I could feel remnants of other magic, too. Older magic. Stronger magic.

And when the first of the moons began to rise in the sky, my blood began to simmer. Magic thrummed in the air, tickling my skin, tightening my muscles, hardening my bones.

I braced myself for the night ahead.