I leaned closer to Thistle. “I’m worried she’s insane.”
Thistle’s brow arched like that wasn’t even mildly surprising. “To be seen with you, she’d have to be.”
My eyes rolled. “She thinks we’re magically bound for the next two weeks,” I went on. “Tether and Time magic. Very dramatic. Definitely delusional.”
Quinn’s hand landed on my shoulder in a slap polite enough to be harmless, but the movement felt overtly violent coming from her.
Thistle’s smirk vanished. Stillness settled over her. “TetherandTime?” she asked softly. “You’re sure?”
“I wasn’t at first,” I admitted, my voice dropping. “I’m more convinced now.”
Thistle traced her dark eyes over Quinn. “Now what in the realms would make someone curse a woman like you with multiple higher-order magics?”
The color left Quinn’s cheeks as fear danced in her eyes.
“Uh…we can’t tell you.” The words tumbled awkwardly from my tongue.
Thistle stared at me for several quiet moments. “A mystery?” She braced her hands on her wide hips. “Now I like this even more.” She swung the door wide. “In both of you. Shoes off if they’re muddy. Vesper sheds more than he’d like to admit. Don’t add to my sweeping.”
We crossed into warmth and green light. Inside smelled of too many plants arguing their purpose—sage, resin, parsley, mint. Bundles dangled from rafters, shelves bowed under glass and clay, a kettle sighed on the hob. The floor groaned in the places it always had, plus a few new ones. A black cat lounged on a crate of dried ginger, fur like spilled ink, green eyes lantern-bright, unimpressed with life itself.
“New girl, huh?” the cat said, smooth as oiled leather.
“Hello, Vesper,” I sighed.
“You’re looking older,” he observed.
“You’re looking smug as ever.”
Quinn inclined her head with perfect courtesy, as if talking cats were no stranger than tapestries. “A pleasure.”
“Is it?” Vesper said dryly. His nostrils flared for a moment, pupils widening at Quinn. Then he slipped soundless to the floor,vanished under a cabinet, and produced a noise that suggested he’d found the warmest plank and claimed it by divine right.
“Sit,” Thistle said. “Mock my tea and I’ll return you to the road.”
“I like your tea,” I lied. Thistle shot me a look that communicated we both knew it wasn’t true.
“Perjury within the first five minutes? That’s bold even for you, Bassiano,” Vesper snarked from under the cabinet.
Thistle snorted, pulling chipped mugs off a crowded shelf and setting them on the scarred table with a clank. “I’m Thistle, Thistle Celtris,” she introduced. “Miss…”
Quinn looked suddenly appalled. “Lady Quinnève Liogenoriggia,” she said with a curtsy. “Please forgive the oversight of a proper introduction. I fear I am out of practice.”
I stifled a chuckle. “Quinn for short, or at least that’s what I call her.”
“You’re lucky to call her anything.” Thistle rolled her dark eyes in my direction before turning to Quinn. “Lady Quinn, Mav said you're under a spell involving Tether and Time magic…what are the qualities of it?”
Quinn slid her teeth over her bottom lip. “I sleep for one hundred years, then awaken for a fortnight, during which time I must aid someone with a quest. When one agrees to my aid, a tether forms between us for the length of my stay.”
Thistle drummed her long nails on the table. “Curious. How very curious.” The rhythm paused. “And the remedy?”
Light blue eyes fell to the floor as Quinn’s posture shrank inward. Thistle’s gaze darted between us.
“Oh, I see,” Thistle mumbled.
I was not sure what it was she was seeing. I pulled in a deep breath. “We came here because I’m hoping you can help me—I mean, us, get out of it.”
Thistle stood, crossing the rough stone floor of the narrowkitchen to a bank of drawers. “Well, the first thing we can do is confirm the type…or in this case,typesof magic at play,” she explained, opening and closing multiple drawers. “Vesper, have you seen the idleroot?”
