Cauldrons and Cat Tails (Moonvale Matches #2)

Epilogue

T andor and I sat, legs intertwined, curled up on the couch in his cottage. Casper was seated on my lap, purring gently as I ran my fingers through her smooth fur.

We passed a roll of mirthroot back and forth, taking turns inhaling the enchanted smoke.

“Did I tell you I had a vision?” I asked as wispy smoke drifted past my lips. “During Hallow’s Eve.”

“Oh? Did it involve me?”

I shoved his shoulder. “Oh, of course. But there was another one. Without you in it.”

“What about?”

I shrugged. “Some voice. Deep but soft, far but close, it was hard to pinpoint.”

“Just a voice? How is that a vision?”

“Do you want to know what they said or not?”

He gestured for me to continue. “Go ahead, princess. Tell me.”

“They thanked me for inviting them back.”

“Huh. Who was it?”

I took another puff, exhaling slowly through my teeth. “I have no idea.”

“What do you think it means?” he asked.

“Your guess is as good as mine.”

“Were you smoking mirthroot that night?”

I laughed. “No. But nobody will believe me, will they?”

“I believe you.”

I reached out to pat his hand. “You have to believe me. I’m the one sharing your bed.”

His smile was roguish. “I would believe you regardless.”

“Whatever you say, orc.”

“I believe you too, Godsblood” a tiny voice chimed in. I nearly jumped out of my skin. I whirled, seeking the source of the intrusion. Did someone sneak into the cottage? The drugs were getting to me.

A tiny sprite, blue and wispy, perched on the arm of the couch beside me. It was the brave water sprite, I realized. She must have followed me here.

And she was speaking .

“Tandor, am I hallucinating right now?”

Tandor coughed, pounding a fist on his chest. “Nope. I see it too.”

The sprite froze, turning to ice. Actually. Frost crystals clung to her hair. “You can hear me?” her squeaky voice asked.

I nodded, dazed. “I sure can.”

The sprite jumped up and down, fluttering her tiny wings and waving her arms. “She can hear us! The Godsblood can finally hear us!”

I glanced at Tandor to find him looking just as frazzled as I felt. He slowly set the roll of mirthroot aside, extinguishing the flame on the end.

“You guys have been… trying to speak to me?” I asked.

“Yes! For ages! We have so much to catch up on.”

“ W hat should we try next?” Fiella asked, arms crossed. We stared at the three scaled dragon eggs where they sat in a basket on my worktable.

We had tried countless methods to get the eggs to hatch.

We’d tried potions. Spells. Immersing them in boiling water. We’d even tried using brute force and cracking them open with a hammer.

Fiella and I wrote letters to folk across the realm, begging and pleading for suggestions. For answers. For ideas.

We tried everything. Nothing worked.

“Let’s just toss them in the broken cauldron and let them rest for a while. I’m fresh out of ideas.”

Fiella sighed. “That’s not the right attitude to have, Miss Hand of the Dragons.”

I snorted at her use of my new title. “I’ll think of something tomorrow. I just need a break. If we don’t figure it out by Merry Day, we’ll take them back to the mountains and see if anyone has any ideas.”

“Merry Day! How could I have forgotten about Merry Day! I need to start preparing my gifts!”

Just like that, Fiella had moved on to a new mission.

I needed to prepare my gifts, too. I had no idea what to get for Tandor. I would probably make some sort of potion for him, or maybe a fancy mug for his ales, but I wanted it to be perfect .

Fiella and I left the dragon eggs in the broken cauldron as we left the shop, heading to the bakery for teas and pastries. Hex curled up around them like some sort of sludge cushion.

We didn’t notice the hairline crack beginning to form on one of the eggs.