Page 29 of The Orc Who Hated Christmas
Cas held out his hand to the broom. Nothing happened. Laughing, Cas picked it up and began to sweep.
“Witches have affinities?” Graal only had vague ideas about witches.
Cas nodded as he continued sweeping. “We do. We’re all hearth and kitchen witches, but some of us have different strengths. Grady’s affinity is protection, which fits, as he is always looking after us. He also does the protection charms for the bakery and apartment. And us.”
Cas pulled back his sleeve, revealing a woven band Graal had noticed before. “A lot of his baking is about protectingthose who consume what he makes. Ordelia’s affinity is health, so her baking and cooking have the strongest healing abilities. But not everyone has an affinity.”
“I see.” Graal considered what Cas said. “I always thought witchcraft was about cauldrons, spells, and potions.”
“You’re right on both counts. We do use cauldrons.” Cas gestured to the now clean cauldron on the stove. “Lachlan will set up a simmer pot tomorrow morning, and we’ll keep that going throughout the day. It sends out positive energy. We also use cauldrons to make teas, stews, and other concoctions.
“And our teas and the food we make could be seen as potions. We mix ingredients, and we give an intent to how we want them to affect our patrons. Also, the rituals we perform and the focus behind those actions can also be seen as spells.”
The broom swept rhythmically against the floor. “So right now, I am sweeping. But I’m doing so with a certain intent.” Cas paused. “I am sending out waves of gratitude to the space, thanking the floor for taking our weight all day, for bearing our feet, for supporting us as we work to provide for the community.”
Cas grabbed a small dustpan. He swept up a small pile of debris he’d collected. Then he returned to using the broom.
Graal took a sip of his hot tea, startling a little at the sweetness. Cas really did like his tea sweet. Surprisingly, Graal liked it. The lemon perfectly balanced the sweetness. And the chamomile gave a lovely floral note. He didn’t know what moon water was. That was one more question to add to the list.
“The home and all the places within are magic. Mother taught me that everything is magic if you give your heart to it.” Cas smiled fondly, as he often did when talking about hismother. “Most witches work in villages, not cities.” Cas paused.
“In fact, some witches believe that city witches aren’t real witches, as we don’t have a specific community we care for.” Cas made a face. “They think we can’t know all those who visit our bakery and thus can’t care for them properly.” Cas gave a sharp shake of his head. “But that just isn’t true!” His voice grew strong and sharp. “Not at all!”
Graal’s ears twitched, the orc taken slightly aback by Cas’s intensity.
“We might not know every customer and their specific needs, but we still provide for them and care for them with our food.” The straw broom swept back and forth with more force. “We feed many. We care for many.” Cas frowned, seeming almost lost in thought. “And in a city, so many are uncared for and unloved. We care and provide love when no one else does.”
Graal held his breath as Cas’s words cut straight to Graal’s core.
Because no one had ever cared for Graal. No one until Cas.
“Do you have an affinity?” Graal asked, voice hoarse.
“What?” Cas looked up, surprised as if he’d gotten lost in thought. He let out a breath and smiled. “Isn’t my affinity obvious?” He laughed. “It’s spreading happiness and joy. That’s what my baking does. I don’t provide much basic nourishment. That’s more Jack’s thing. But my baking is sweet treats. I lift people’s moods and show love and affection by spreading cheer.”
Graal stared at Cas, unable to speak.
When he’d first come into the bakery, he’d seen the sugar cookies Cas had made and thought them frivolous. Pretty and nice but unnecessary.
And completely unsuitable for Graal.
He’d bought brick bread. It filled him and fuelled his body. But that was it. He’d believed the stuff Cas made was not for him. But maybe that was because, deep down, he’d always known the truth of what those pretty sweet treats meant.
They meant happiness, joy, love, and affection, things that had never been part of Graal’s life. Things he’d learnt not to expect.
And suddenly, Graal felt like he was fourteen again, staring at a Christmas tree and the presents beneath, knowing in his soul that these things were an expression of his mother’s love and affection. And knowing she had not given them to her mongrel son.
Graal’s eyes stung, and he dropped his gaze so Cas wouldn’t see.
When Graal had eaten Cas’s cookies, he’d felt the joy and happiness Cas had intended him to feel.
And for some reason, it all just hurt.
It felt like he was holding his hands to the warmth of a fire after being out in the freezing snow for so long. It stung and throbbed as the heat seeped into his skin. Graal let out a breath, staring down at the special tea with lots of honey that Cas had made just for him.
It was too much. It was all too much. Because he wanted this to last. He wanted Cas and his warmth and happiness and affection. He didn’t want to go back to his solitary life without the glittering brightness of Cas.
He didn’t want to be back in the cold all alone.