Or... laughs, as it turns out.
I find Kit right in the middle of the market square, just like Frannie joked. He’s hard to miss, surrounded by a small gaggle of people where they’re chatting away in Yarrovian, the local language. Kit is clearly weaving his magic on the older man with a big, bushy beard and three women of various ages who have gathered around him.
Thankfully, it’s not raining and is on the warm side, considering we’re in the early stages of winter, so he’s not likely to catch his death. I approach slowly and slightly warily, but Kit’s face breaks into a beaming smile when he sees me, sending my stomach flip-flopping.
“Here she is, my lovely m—fiancee.” As soon as I get close enough, Kit wraps his arm around me, tucking me into his side. I raise an eyebrow as I briefly meet his eye.So, we’re telling everyone right away, are we?I ask him silently.
Kit shrugs, his cheeks pinkening.
“I brought you some clothes,” I tell him, thrusting them against his chest.
“How sweet,” one of the older women murmurs, her eyes darting between us like we’re a play being acted out for her entertainment.
“I may have left the house slightly impulsively.” Kit gives a rueful smirk. “I heard something and needed to speak to you allimmediately,Mrs Connor, Mr Fik.”
“You need some suggestions for wedding planning?”
He shakes his head gravely. “Nothing so enjoyable, I’m afraid.” There’s a long pause. “Sorcery.”
“Sorcery?” They all seem to recoil at the word, and I wonder if they’d have the same reaction if he had said the words ‘beast-borne’ or ‘shifter’.
“Sorcery right here in our town,” he continues. “A friend of ours fell foul of it, and so we’re trying to find out as much as we can.”
“Of course.”
“Sorcery? Here in Port Yarrow?” the man splutters, tugging anxiously on his long, grey beard.
“What are the signs?” the youngest of the three women asks, giving a delicate shudder. “So that we know what to look out for.”
“Strange comings and goings. Odd smells. People moving around at odd hours, particularly at night. Does any of this sound familiar?”
I stifle a slight chuckle. That sounds exactly like the pub in Ambleby, and I’m fairly sure there’s no sorcery going on in there.
Plenty of people who are up to no good, though.
Three of them stare back with blank expressions, shaking their heads.
The third though, the oldest woman holds up her finger triumphantly. “My neighbour, three down from me, beside Mrs Higgs who always overfills her bins? They always have strange smells coming out of their house at odd hours.”
“Isn’t she a gorgon?”
“Well, yes. But that doesn’t mean she isn’t also in league with sorcerers, does it?”
“I’ll ask around,” the bearded man says with a determined nod before he turns on his heel and strides off.
“Me too,” the younger woman says, clapping her hands together. She takes the arm of the older woman, who doesn’t seem in a hurry to go anywhere.
“If I find anything out, I’ll come by the shop and bring some of those tarts you like,” she tells Kit with a toothy grin.
“That would be wonderful, Mrs Conner.”
The two women skip off down the street while I raise my wide-eyed gaze to Kit.
“What was all that about? Members of your fan club?”
“There’s nothing more powerful than this town’s squad of busybodies,” Kit replies, giving me a quick squeeze before letting go. “You’d think at least one of them must have some magic, the way they know everything that’s going on around here. Plus, they tend to meet around this time every day, so I thought I’d strike while the iron is hot.”
“Would people around here notice, do you think?”
