Fiella bolted to my side, pulling me into a bone-bending hug. Her chin rested on top of my head. “You’re crazy, did you know that?”
I patted her back. “It’ll be a nightmare when Mayor Tommins finds out. And they might not even hatch. But still—you owe me one.”
She released me and wandered back to the cauldron to admire the eggs. “I always do. This is going to be so much fun.”
CHAPTER 33
Tandor
Hallow’s Eve was only a day away, and with that came hours and hours of preparation at Ginger’s Pub.
I had unloaded all my purchases from the journey—some for the pub and some for my personal collection—before dropping into a deep, dreamless sleep the night before, and my treasures were waiting for me when I woke.
I needed a wheelbarrow to haul everything to the pub. I could carry a lot, but the pile of pumpkins exceeded my limit.
The pub was lively when I entered.
Ginger set down a goblet with a thunk, letting out a deep sigh of relief when I walked into the kitchen with my wheelbarrow in tow. “Tandor!” she called out. “Thank the Old Gods! I thought I was going to have to handle the Hallow’s Eve morning rush without you!”
“I would never do that to you, Ginny.”
The faun fluttered into the kitchen behind me, eager to sneak a peek at my bounty. Her hoofed feet hardly made a sound as they clacked against the stone. “How was the trip?” she asked. “New stuff?” She stretched out a hand to examine a bag of spices, but I swatted her away.
“It was great! And yes—but don’t touch, I’ll share but I’ve got to sort everything out first.”
She rolled her eyes, but a smile spread across her face. “Rude. So, the trip wasgreathuh?”
I glanced at her sidelong. “Mhm. It was nice to get away for a while.”
“Sure. Because you love getting away so much. And your witchy companion?”
“She’s good. Got what she needed.” My ears twitched. She tracked the movement with her eyes. I shoved my wheelbarrow back to the corner of the kitchen—I would sort through everything and put it away properly later, when I had time to spare.
“Very ominous. I’m dying for more information here.”
I steered the conversation into safer territory. “How have things been? Falling apart at the seams? Missing me dearly? Can hardly function without me?”
She gave my shoulder a shove. “We’ve been hanging in there. Linc over there is pretty useless, but he’s a body in the room, so at least the folkthinkhe might be able to help them.”
I glanced at Linc to see him idly running a rag over a table that was clearly already clean. The rag wasn’t even wet. He stood there, wiping the table for a few moments before he walked up to a table, grabbing an empty goblet and bringing it to the bar counter. And then he started running the rag over the counter. I stifled a laugh. “At least he’s collecting the dishes.”
She snorted. “You should see what he does when he washes them.”
“I’m not sure I want to know what that means.”
A family chose that moment to enter the pub. I snagged an apron, hastily tying it around my waist as I strode to the bar. I called out to Ginger over my shoulder, “I’ve got this one.”
She flapped a hand in my direction. “Glad to have you back.”
I slipped back into my pub routine easily, like slipping into my favorite pair of trousers. I served patrons, washed goblets, and checked on my cider barrels in the cellar.
Luckily, the brews I started before the journey were perfect.
And I now had more ingredients to toy with. Excitement hummed in my blood at the possibilities. Ginger was going to besojealous.
When nobody was looking, I retrieved the jar of dragon eggshell powder, sprinkling tiny amounts into the bottoms of every single goblet, mug, flask, cup in the pub.
Evening came around before I knew it. Ginger and I had decided to close the pub early so we could prepare for the Hallow’s Eve festival—I wasn’t sure exactly what she would be doing, but every folk honored the holiday in their own way.
