Page 6

Six

DRAVEN

T he tavern was surprisingly full of patrons with the incoming storm, their chatter filling the space.

I paced behind the bar, watching the door for any signs of Edgar and my sister. I’d explicitly told Georgie she was to stay in the apartment over the tavern, and as usual, she hadn’t listened. She’d always been rebellious, stubborn, impulsive, but ever since we’d moved here a year ago, her behavior had gotten worse.

I thought Thistlegrove would be the perfect place for us since it was the same small town my parents had hailed from. I hadn’t lived here in a long, long time, spending my adult years in the capital where I worked. After my parents died, Georgie had moved away from Thistlegrove and in with our grandmother. Then the incident happened, and I brought Georgie here to start over, hoping maybe she’d reconnect with this place.

Unfortunately, she hadn’t.

It felt like my younger sister resented me more every day, and, in turn, acted out. Her latest escapade had involved stealing seeds from the town market. Seeds. Something we could easily afford. If she’d just asked, I would’ve bought them for her .

I rubbed my temples. Worrying would do no good. She and Edgar would probably be back soon, and I had work to do.

A few pieces of parchment lay on the bar top. I’d been working on the spell for mugs to travel from the bar directly to the patrons. I didn’t take old man Veldar and his rants too seriously, but I also didn’t like that the current spell wasn’t perfect. It needed tweaking somewhere, but I hadn’t figured out exactly what part.

I rubbed my eyes, looking at the series of scribbles on the parchment. I scratched out a few words, then grabbed one of the mugs behind me and held it while saying the words of the new spell. The mug glowed brightly as the magic worked its way through it.

Magic was complex and varied so much from spell to spell. Different ingredients, different wording, different phrases could often produce the same result.

I drummed my fingers on the bar top, peering at the newly spelled mug and wondering if I’d fixed the problem of the landing.

The door swung open, Georgie stomping in with Edgar behind her. Her thick black hair was twined in a braid that fell down her back, her green eyes flashing with fury as she set them on me and wove her way between tables toward the bar. A few patrons took notice, nodding at Georgie as she passed by, but she paid them no attention.

“You sent my babysitter after me?” she said accusingly as she reached the bar.

Edgar landed on my shoulder, his wings curling around him. “Babysitter?” His orange eyes shifted between the two of us. “But you’re not a baby, Georgie.”

“She didn’t mean it literally, Edgar,” I said, an edge to my voice. “And you’re not a babysitter. You’re a friend.”

“Oh, really?” Georgie planted her hands on her slim hips, her trousers with bits of mud and debris on them. I wondered what she’d been up to. “Do friends spy on each other? Do they order each other around?”

Edgar raised a talon in the air. “I did ask nicely if you’d come with me.”

“Where were you?” I ground out. “I was worried.”

She snorted. “It’s none of your business. ”

“I would disagree.” I crossed my arms. “In fact, as your caretaker, I’d say it’s the opposite.”

She forged on like I hadn’t even spoken. “Besides, you do realize I’ve been gone for four hours. Must not have been that worried,” she mumbled, scuffing the toe of her boot on the floor.

“I’ve been working,” I said, voice stern. “Something you could learn a little about.” I looked at the dirty tables around the tavern meaningfully, then nodded my head toward the rag sitting between us.

Georgie narrowed her gaze. “You know, making me do this is unpaid labor, which is illegal in the Witchlands. Minors aren’t supposed to work until we’re out of primary school, and I still have two more years of schooling.”

“Illegal?” Edgar piped up, his ears perking up. “We’re engaging in illegal activity? Are the magistrates going to arrest us?” He put a paw to his mouth. “Are we going to be sent to the Dearthsten Prisons?”

I rolled my eyes. “No and no.” I turned my attention to Georgie. “And it’s not unpaid labor. It’s called chores. This is our home, and as someone who lives here, you need to pitch in.” I threw the rag at Georgie, and she caught it, glaring at me.

“You’re one of the most powerful witches on Thaloria.” She squeezed the rag tight, a few drops of water ringing out. “You could spell this rag to clean all the tables.”

“I could.” I pretended to think about it, then smacked my lips. “But I’m not going to. I think you do a better job than any spelled rag could.”

She blew out a frustrated breath and stomped over to one of the dirty tables, wiping it down. Georgie might have been convinced I was trying to torture her, but it was the opposite. I was hoping that pitching in, doing a few chores, might give her a sense of purpose. She seemed so lost in this world, and I didn’t know how to help her find her place. She attended Thistlegrove Academy but didn’t have any friends. It wasn’t like I was the best role model. I didn’t have many friends myself, and I most definitely didn’t know how to bond with a sixteen-year-old girl.

The door to the tavern creaked open, Elm’s massive form filling the doorway, the corkscrew curls that framed his face damp with water. It must’ve already started raining, but the chatter in here drowned out the sounds of the storm.

My friend was in town visiting, and I was eager to talk with him about these newcomers he’d been seen helping. To warn him to be careful. One look at Elm with his perfectly tailored pants, shirt, and vest was enough to know he had money. It didn’t hurt that, according to Georgie, he was “gorgeous” with his chiseled jaw and deep brown eyes. And that was enough to attract the worst of witchkind.

Behind Elm appeared two more witches. One was blonde and beautiful with long legs, a slim figure, and pale, delicate features. My gaze moved to the witch behind her, shorter but equally slim with bangs and dull brown hair that hung past her shoulders. She was plain, someone I wouldn’t look twice at if I passed her on the road, unlike the blonde witch who was turning heads as she approached. They both wore simple dresses covered in mud, their boots worn, and, of course, they were tracking muddy prints across the floor I’d just mopped.

I sighed. Just as I suspected. They weren’t wealthy, which gave them motivation to latch onto my friend, and it instantly rang alarm bells in my head.

Elm smiled and waved. He looked behind him, gesturing for the two witches to follow. What was he up to? They made their way toward the bar, and I readied myself to find out what these witches wanted with my friend.

“Is your sister supposed to be doing that?” Edgar pointed a talon in her direction.

My gaze swiveled toward my sister, who was currently sitting at a table and drinking a tankard of ale. I didn’t even know where she’d gotten the mug or how. Maybe she’d snuck behind the bar while I was distracted with the newcomers. Either way, she definitely was not supposed to be doing that.

Elm and the two witches sat on barstools. “Draven, I wanted to introduce you to?—”

“Excuse me,” I said, voice gruff as I made my way around the bar, eyes locked on Georgie. I strode toward my sister and grabbed her arm, hoisting her to her feet.

“Hey!” she said. “Let go of me.”

A few patrons took notice, glancing at us out of the corners of their eyes. Great. This was just what I needed. A spectacle in my own tavern.

“What do you think you’re doing?” I hissed .

Georgie gestured around. “Um, what everyone who comes to a tavern is doing?”

“Except you’re sixteen,” I said. “Have you drank ale before?”

“If you actually took notice of me every once in a while, maybe you’d know the answer to that question.”

What in the hellfire was that supposed to mean? Fuck, I was so bad at this. I had no idea what to do with her. If only there was someone who could get through to my sister, connect with her in a way that I couldn’t.

“Well, it doesn’t matter,” I said. “I don’t care if you’ve drank ale before. You’re not to do it again until you’re of age. Now finish cleaning the tables, then get upstairs, and we’ll talk more about this later.”

Thunder boomed outside.

Georgie stuck out her chin. “No. I want to stay down here. With you.”

She said those last two words so quietly I almost didn’t hear them.

I sighed. “I don’t have time to look after you. I’ve got an entire tavern to run, not to mention a spell that needs finessing. Like I said, we’ll talk about this later.”

I still gripped her arm, and she tried to squirm out of my grasp. “Let me go.”

“Not until you promise to do as you’re told.”

Her gaze hardened, and I knew I’d lost this battle. “No.”

“Georgie,” I warned.

“Let her go,” a voice said behind us.

I whirled around, coming face-to-face with one of the witches Elm had brought into my bar.

She raised her chin, a fire in her mahogany eyes. “Do you often pick on young girls in your establishment?”

I scoffed, unable to believe the gall of this woman. “Mind your own damn business.”

She crossed her arms. “No.”

Georgie grinned. “I like her.”

Of course she did. I, however, did not. “And who are you?” I asked.

“Elspeth. Elspeth Moonflower.”

“Right.” I let go of my sister’s arm, shoving her behind me. “Well, you must not be from here because I don’t recognize you. And that means you don’t know me. You don’t know this town. And you definitely don’t know what in the hellfire you’re talking about, so I suggest you turn around and go back to the bar.”

“So this isn’t just how you treat young girls. It’s how you treat everyone.” She gestured around. “It’s a wonder anyone comes here. Then again, this is the only place in Thistlegrove that serves ale from what I understand. I suppose no one has a choice in the matter.”

Georgie peeked around me. “You’re right. People definitely don’t come here for Draven.”

Elspeth set her steely gaze on me. “I can’t imagine why not.”

Oh, this lady was a real treat.

“Are you okay?” she asked Georgie. “Do you need me to find your parents or something?”

I winced at the mention of them.

“No, that’s alright.” Georgie picked up the wet rag off the table. “This has been delightful. I’m going to go clean a few tables now.” She flounced off, leaving me alone with Elspeth.

I gaped after my sister. This was what it took to get her to do my bidding? Someone insulting me? Georgie happily wiped a table nearby, a smile on her face as she hummed.

Elspeth looked between Georgie and me. “She’s your employee?” Her eyes widened in horror. “But she can’t be more than sixteen, and... you should not be putting your hands on your staff like that. Especially not a young girl. Who’s in charge here?”

“I am,” I ground out, teeth clenched so tight my jaw hurt.

I should’ve corrected her, told her that the “young girl” was my sister. But I didn’t like how this woman barged into my tavern and made assumptions about someone she knew absolutely nothing about. I didn’t owe her any explanations, and I didn’t care what she thought of me.

“I suggest you return to your seat now.” I gestured toward the bar, where Elm and the blonde were sitting, their heads bent together as they talked. They were so deep in their conversation they hadn’t even noticed their companion was over here with me.

Pestering me.

“Fine,” she said. “I could use a drink anyway.”

“Yeah, you’re not the only one,” I fired back.

“What is that supposed to mean?” she asked.

“It means I just met you, and you’ve managed to insult me, anger me, and exhaust me in the span of a few minutes. I shouldn’t even allow you to step foot in my tavern again after that display. And the only reason I’m not kicking you out right now is because you’re Elm’s guest, and he’s a loyal patron.”

She snorted. “Well, it’s definitely not because of you. You must serve good ale.”

Right then, a mug flew through the air. The one I’d just spelled. Elspeth looked at it and let out a scream as it shot toward her head at a frightening speed.

Fuck. I must’ve been too aggressive with my spell, and now it was going to knock the woman unconscious. For a moment, I considered letting it happen. But no matter how much I disliked her, I wouldn’t let anyone get hurt. Especially not in my tavern. Not because of my magic.

Before I could think too much on it, I barreled into her, and we both tumbled to the ground.