Page 34 of The Keeper of the Kingdoms

“Figuring out what you’re doing so I can help.”

She prickled a little.

“Without bulldozing over your methods,” I finished.

“I thought you said you helped the healer in your village. Shouldn’t you know?” She didn’t pull away from my touch as I reached around her to grab a knife.

“I’ve found every healer has their own subtle ways of doing things. Isn’t it better for me to study?”

She cast another look over her shoulder, causing her hair to tickle my face. “Watch yourself.”

My lips pulled into a smile. “What am I watching?”

“What I’m doing.” She followed an open book that was propped up on a stand, the pages well-worn and lightly splattered with years of dried herbs.

The pages were yellowed but easily readable. I scanned the words, stepping out from behind her to take a place at the station next to her. The space was big enough for many healers, but the times I’d found Kiera in here, it was just her or maybe one other. Did these places used to be full and bustling with healers? I wondered about the half-empty stores and the lack of alchemists. We always had alchemists to make potions, not healers. But I guess if I thought about it, they were all healers but with different focus.

I grabbed the next thing on her list. Prepping it while she worked on hers. She kept glancing over with her eyes narrowed.

“Be sure to chop evenly,” she scolded. “If I have to go over your work, then you are no help at all.”

I held my smirk in. I knew she was doing her best to seem bothered by my presence, but we’d spent plenty of time together since Nyx captured that poor soul in the dungeons and I was notgoing to let her push me away anymore. Besides, I wasn’t even convinced by her act. She was warming to me. I just had to persevere.

Taking extra care to give her no reason to criticize, I worked my way through the ingredients she begrudgingly handed me. I left them accumulating on the bench beside her as we worked in tandem. Reaching around her for the next bunch whenever I ran out, using the opportunity to be in her space and feel the brush of her arm against mine as she moved with practiced precision.

She pulled some huge, waxy leaves from a basket on the counter and began cutting them into rough strips, one long slice at a time. My hands itched to intervene with a better method, and I couldn’t resist. The worst she could do was resist my help.

I stepped in behind her and she froze as my arms came around her to still her knife. I paused, giving her a chance to push me away and when she did nothing, I pressed in, picking up the huge leaf and flipping it onto its reverse side, knowing they rolled more easily this way. I reached for a couple more and stacked them on top, then rolled them up tightly into a long tube.

She watched silently as I slid the knife from her hand and began slicing into the roll, creating long, perfect ribbons on her cutting board.

While I worked, she stood between my arms, transfixed and barely moving but not pushing me away. I reached the end of my leaf roll and set the knife down, breathing the sweet scent of her flame colored hair in before reluctantly stepping away.

Moving out of her space seemed to break the spell for both of us, and she smoothed her apron down reflexively and murmured some thanks before turning to the cabinet on the opposite side of the workroom. I watched her for a moment as she busied herself by collecting some bottled ingredients from a cabinet.

She was so self assured, going directly to everything she was seeking because this was her territory. Everything in her workroom was catalogued in her incredible mind. I wastransfixed. She reached for something on a high shelf and her tiny form stretched as high as possible, but with several things already gathered in one arm, she did not have the height she needed.

I was across the room without a thought, reaching over her head to secure the obviously seldom-used item in her collection. My hand skimmed hers as she pulled back, startling her. She sucked in a breath and must have loosened her hold on her collection of bottles as they cascaded to the floor, smashing and spilling their contents around her feet.

I reacted immediately, sweeping her off her feet. Not knowing exactly what dangers the contents of so many brown and black glass bottles could house, but knowing enough to suspect that mixing such things together in random quantities might not be good. I strode away from the mess before things could really begin mixing together.

“Jaxus!” she gasped. “Put me down.”

“Is it safe?” I asked urgently. “Did you get anything on you?” All I could think of was a time when I was a child that an alchemist from our village was badly burned when a particularly old and overcrowded shelf collapsed on her and I feared something similar might happen to Kiera.

“Of course it’s safe. Put me down.”

I carried her to the counter and set her on the surface, scanning her apron and robes right away for any splashes or burn marks. Shifting the folds of fabric, to be sure.

She shooed my hands away. “What are you doing?” she snapped.

“Making sure nothing harmful got you.” There was nothing, and I felt relieved and foolish in equal parts.

“There was nothing harmful there,” she sighed, peering over my shoulder. “Just my entire stock of goldenseal root powder, which is now full of broken glass and borage seeds. For the love of the Goddess! Goldenseal is almost impossible to acquire untilthe spring thaws in the Ice Kingdom and exposes the ground in the lowlands.”

I looked back at the destruction, guilty for surprising her and causing the damage. “I’ll help you find some,” I swore.

She turned her gaze on me and looked unimpressed. “Oh, you have knowledge of the goldenseal trade as well as all of your other random knowledge, do you?”