“That’s exactly what I said.” He turned to fill another mug for someone else.
“Can I just stay over here with you for the rest of the day?” I joked.
“Who will hand out your… chili?” His voice was strangely tight.
I shrugged. “Someone will, I’m sure. Linc is watching it right now. Speaking of my chili. Do you want some?”
“Oh!” He fumbled nervously for another mug. “Maybe later. I’m full right now.”
“Suit yourself. It’s been quite a hit.”
“It has?”
I tilted my head. “Is that surprising?”
He choked. “Of course not! Of course not,” he stammered hurriedly.
An amused chuckle escaped my mouth. “I’m surprised, honestly. It turned out so much better than I expected it to.”
“Kizzi!” Fiella called from a few paces away. “You’ve got to come try this cake!”
Oh, fuck yeah. I love the Moonvale potluck.
“That’s my cue. Thanks! Come by my shop tonight and I’ll treat those hands with some healing salve, I can tell they’re really bothering you.” I reached forward and patted Tandor on the back of the hand before whirling and weaving through the crowd to find my best friend.
Hours later, the suns began their journey to the horizon and daylight began to fade. My stomach threatened to burst. It was actually painful. I had tried as many foods as possible until I physically couldn’t swallow anymore.
There were pastries, cakes, sandwiches, stews, rice dishes, smoked meats, sour drinks. Lunette had made an incredible leafy salad. Velline brought spicy ginger juice.
My favorite treats were the new cider from Tandor, and the gooey chocolate cake from Mitz.
The rare steak from a wolf shifter was my least favorite. I shivered when I thought about that one—it had been a struggle to swallow.
And my chili was gone. Every single spoonful of it. I was pretty sure Linc had licked the cauldron clean.
Empty, the cauldron wasn’t nearly as difficult to carry. I hoisted it up, braced it against my hip, and hauled it back to my apothecary.
My shop was strangely still when I entered. I didn’t sense a single flicker of movement, I didn’t catch any flutters from the corner of my eye, and I didn’t hear any of the telltale sounds of tiny creatures finding hiding spaces.
My ears pricked to attention, straining to hearsomething. Anything.
There was nothing to be heard—not even a popping bubble in a cauldron. The sprites must’ve really taken my last threat to heart.
I dumped the cauldron onto the floor and picked up a cloth, a bucket, and a container of soapy solvent. I couldn’t afford to letthis cauldron stay dirty like the large one had. I glanced to the corner and stuck my tongue out at it, just for fun.
Then I got to scrubbing.
The shop felt weird without the irritating presence of the sprites. It was almost… lonely.
How pathetic that my biggest pests had become a twisted sort of comfort.
I didn’t particularly enjoy the solitude. I kept turning my head sharply, hoping to catch a sneaky sprite unawares, but there were no sneaky movements to be caught. I huffed out a sigh. “Where did you go, you little assholes? Decided to go bother the other witches instead?”
Silence.
The cauldron was easy to clean, all things considered. I set it out to dry and packed away my cleaning instruments in no time. If only all messes were this easily disposed of.
I made a final sweep of my apothecary, tucking baskets into their nooks, tightening jar lids, tossing dirty cloths into the wash bin. Satisfied with the contained, organized chaos of the shop, I got myself ready for bed.
