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CHAPTER ELEVEN

L uckily, Goodman Kreeches Grocery was just down the street from The Red Lion. I walked there in a daze, barely noticing the strange people passing me on the sidewalk.

From the outside, Goodman Kreeches appeared to be a small, gourmet grocery store like the kind you might find in the expensive part of any city.

It had a rounded green awning over the entrance and a display of fresh produce out front.

Inside, I grabbed a whicker basket from the stack beside the front door and began my shopping.

As I went down the rows, I saw a special cheese section, an olive bar, and a whole wall devoted to different wines—each seemingly more expensive than the last.

But there were some other, stranger sections too—ones you’d never see in a regular grocery store.

In the middle of the store I saw a nectar fountain, which looked like one of those chocolate fountains you find at wedding receptions and buffets.

The nectar that oozed from it seemed to have the same consistency as honey and a sign informed me that it was, Bluebell Nectar—only $20 or two gold per jug, today only!

Since the little glass jugs stacked beside the fountain were tiny—I estimated that each couldn’t hold more than a cup—it seemed like an exorbitant price to me. Also, what did it mean “two gold?” Did they have another type of currency here in Hidden Hollow?

A little further down, I saw a stack of hay bales, each about two feet tall by three feet long. “Gourmet Hay—$10 or one gold per bale” read the sign.

I frowned at it in confusion. Who around here was eating hay? Then I remembered the centaur and the minotaur I’d seen when I first came into town. Maybe they were the customers for this particular product.

Beside the hay bales was a section of grain bags with lots of different grains to choose from, including a “Gourmet Gut Mix” whatever that meant and “Gluten Free Rice Mix” as well.

Right next to the grain section were some bags of “Honey dipped sticks.” I picked one up and looked at it, expecting that it would be pretzel sticks.

But no—it looked like someone had actually clipped twigs off of trees and dipped them in honey.

They looked glossy and crispy but also completely inedible—for me, at least.

I left the centaur section—if that was what it was—and moved on towards the back of the store, hoping to find some food that was meant for humans.

I couldn’t help thinking that the store was a lot bigger on the inside than it had looked on the outside.

Was magic at play here, or was it just an optical illusion?

I had no answers so I just kept moving. At the back of the store I saw a butcher’s counter.

There were various signs advertising different cuts and kinds of meat.

I studied them and frowned. Who would be buying an entire side of beef?

Didn’t that mean half of a cow? Wouldn’t that be huge?

Where would you store it all? And what were “Butterling Disks” or “Prodgen Snouts?”

Before I could really consider these questions, someone familiar walked up to the butcher’s counter.

I bit my lip when I saw who it was—the Orc from yesterday!

He was wearing jeans and another tight t-shirt that showed off his rippling muscles and his long black hair was pulled into a casual ponytail at the back and tied with a leather cord.

Luckily, he hadn’t seen me yet, so I backed quietly and carefully away, into one of the aisles.

The minute I was around the corner, I breathed a sigh of relief. I appreciated the apples and the apology note, but that didn’t mean I wanted to have another encounter with the big guy. I decided to lay low, hoping that he wouldn’t see me, and just try to finish my shopping.

Luckily, the aisle I had backed into seemed to cater more to humans. In short order I found most of the things on my list. I even found the kind of cat food Sebastian likes—he’s a picky eater.

My basket was getting pretty heavy by the time I realized I only needed one more thing—cinnamon.

I found the spice aisle and started scanning the rows. It was an unusually large section—maybe because there were some spices and herb blends that I had never seen before.

“Gripe Ease” read one label on a dark blue bottle. “ Take in tea or milk to ease flatulence and wind.”

“Flitter Flutter,” read another label, this time on a broad silver canister that sounded like it was filled with sand when I shook it. “Sprinkle on wings for dramatically minimized wind resistance.”

“Lust A Lot Spice Elixir” a third label declared from a bright pink bottle. “Spice up your love life with this exotic blend!”

I had to check this out. Lifting it from the shelf, I read the list of ingredients which included lavender, sweet almond oil, citrus rind, Valerian root, and Passionflower blooms. I frowned as I read the list—some of the ingredients seemed familiar. Had I seen them in my Grandma’s Grimoire?

Under the list of ingredients were some notes in tiny script.

Warning—under no circumstances should more than two drops be used at a time.

“Not for humans under eighteen, centaurs under fifteen, or fairies and pixies under one hundred and twenty years of age.

Manufacturer not responsible for spontaneous breeding sessions, threesomes, foursomes, orgies, or resulting pregnancy. USE AT YOUR OWN RISK!

Wow—this must be potent stuff! I was still turning the bottle in my hand when a voice practically shouted in my ear,

“Well, well—and are ye looking to get some poor man a lustin’ after ye, girly?”

The strident voice made me jump and I nearly dropped the bright pink bottle of Lust A Lot Elixir.

My heart pounding, I looked up and saw an elderly centaur leaning down to look at the bottle in my hand.

He was bald on top with a snow-white beard that reached all the way from his chin to his waist—which was where the horse half of him started.

I stared up at him, frozen in horror and embarrassment. Words of negation rose in my throat…and promptly stuck there, as always.

The elderly centaur must have thought I hadn’t heard him because he bawled, even louder than before,

“I said, are ye looking to find some male to mount ye? For that will do the trick, so it will! Just mind you don’t use too much ‘o it!” And he stamped a hind hoof, as if for emphasis.

I shook my head frantically and started backing away.

At the same time, I fumbled blindly, trying to put the bottle of Lust A Lot Elixir back on the shelf.

But since my eyes were seemingly glued to the elderly centaur, my aim wasn’t very good.

The bottle slipped from my hand and tumbled towards the floor…

Only to be caught in a large, green hand.

“Here—I think you dropped this,” a deep, rumbling voice said.

Yanking my eyes from the centaur, I saw the very person I was trying to avoid—the Orc from yesterday. Oh God, could this get any worse?

I shook my head again and somehow managed to get out a tiny,

“no,” that was little more than a whisper.

The Orc frowned.

“Sorry—so you don’t want it?”

“A course she wants it!” bellowed the centaur, nodding so that his long, bushy beard wagged up and down and stamping his hoof again. “She’s going to find a male to give it to, so he’ll mount her, so she is! Prolly she’s wanting to have a babe and needs a father for it!”

If I could have done any magic at all right then, I would have made myself invisible. But since I couldn’t, I did the next best thing.

Dropping my basket to the floor, I dodged around the centaur and the Orc and ran as fast as I could for the exit.