“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. I hope you know we’re not eating that, not withthat stuffin it.”
“That stuff? You mean garlic?” I asked.
Fiella flinched. “Quit it!”
“I’m sorry, I’ll stop, I swear.” I finally choked down the rest of my giggles. “You weren’t going to eat it, anyway, let’s not kid ourselves.”
Fiella snorted. “Can’t blame me.”
Truly, I couldn’t.
“We better get back to our table, it looks like the potluck is about to start. To the suns, Kiz.”
“To the moons!” I called back.
As Redd tossed his arm over Fiella’s shoulder and guided her gently back to their table, I tossed the chopped garlic into the cauldron and gave it a quick stir.
There. Now it’s perfect.
The garlic brightened the scent to perfection. I lovingly examined the chili, stirring it slowly and letting the steam caress my face. I was so ridiculously proud of myself. Maybe this was a sign from the fates that I needed to start cooking more often.
A loud, booming clap in the center of the park captured my attention and everyone turned to face it. Mayor Tommins stood on a chair, his golden hair tied back into a neat ponytail. The gryphon was tall—not as tall as Tandor but taller than most of the other men in town. His voice projected impressively. “Folk of Moonvale! Thank you for coming out to celebrate with us as the mild season slips away—it’s time for the annual potluck! This year,everyonehas brought a dish to share. Take this opportunity to socialize, to catch up with other folk, to enjoy a variety of treats. Love your neighbor, treat your neighbor, treat yourself, and have a good time! Let’s feast!”
Applause broke out, followed by hoots and cheers.
“Yeah! Let’s feast!” I shouted with the crowd.
Folk began milling around like frenzied ants. I retrieved my mug from my satchel and beelined to the nearest table serving tea to grab a steaming drink. I hadn’t had time to caffeinate myself before the event—I spent entirely too long carefully stirring and admiring my chili.
I swiped a chocolate croissant from Mitz’s bakery table on my way back to find that a few curious folk had gathered beside my table, hesitantly peering over the edge of my cauldron to catch a glimpse of the contents.
“Hello! Give me a second and I’ll serve you up.” I shoved the entire croissant into my mouth and chewed ferociously as I set my tea down, climbed onto my stool, and grabbed the ladle.
“Hey there, Kizzi! What do you have there?” a voice asked. The question came from Daine, the mothman who ran the grocery store. His elegant fingers were tucked together in front of him, resting on the edge of the table. His wings fluttered in the mild breeze.
“It’s called chili!” I announced loudly so all the nearby folk would hear. “It’s a recipe from Oakhollow. Folk in the hilly regions eat it all the time.”
“Oh, that’s cool! And did you… make it?” Daine asked hesitantly.
“Of course I made it!”
I reached for the man’s plate and snatched it out of his hands, ladling a generous serving onto it. I pushed the plate back into his grip before grabbing the next folk’s plate and repeating the process. They looked a bit bewildered.
“Well, it certainly smells nice,” Daine said.
“Tastes even nicer! Try it!” I insisted.
He took a tentative bite, chewing slowly. His eyes widened—his pupils dilating to saucers before constricting to pinpricks. He swallowed hastily. “Wow, that actually isn’t bad. I might even say that it’sgood.” He shoved another bite into his mouth. And then another.
“Kizzi brought somethinggood? I’ve got to try this!” a voice announced.
“Me, too!”
Before I knew it, I had served chili to dozens of folk, my cauldron was half empty, and I hadn’t enjoyed any of the potluck aside from my initial tea and croissant.
“Hey, Linc!” I hopped off my stool, reached out and grasped the human’s arm. He was tall, but lanky, and his brown hair wascropped close to his scalp. His eyes widened in surprise when I caught his attention. “Can you make sure nothing happens to my chili while I step away?”
“Uh… Sure. Do you want me to serve any?” He asked, flummoxed.
