Page 24

Chapter 24

Kaya

I give my new oven a pat; a person from the forge installed it this morning. My new hire, Giorgio, won’t be able to work until next week, but I’m so glad I finally have the funds to pay another employee and buy what I need. It’s such an incredible relief.

Heading out to the bakery’s main room, I stop at the counter to hand Rosalind her payment for the hours she’s worked the past month. Bending low, I scratch Sio’s head.

Rosalind pockets the linen envelope of coins and picks up a tray of tea cakes. “Thanks.” She carries the tray to a table of tourists in the corner.

At their usual table, Laini and Tully drink the cherry bloom tea I steeped for them and order another orange scone to share. They appear to be discussing the magical storm that struck the town while Cyrus and I were gone.

“…and Rom rang the warning bell a good twenty minutes before it blew in,” Laini says. She gives Spark, her dragonfox, a crumb from her plate. He gobbles it down and then begins flying around the ceiling beams. “I don’t think anyone suffered any roof damage this time because of him and you, Tully.”

Sio jumps from the counter, fur rippling, and dives at one of the other maplecats. The cats tumble and yowl, but I can tell it’s just play-wrestling because Sio’s claws aren’t digging in and he’s letting the smaller, younger cat get in a couple of swipes.

Tully laughs, faces me, and lifts her teacup. “The combination of Rom’s magic and mine is pretty powerful. I’m glad he’s comfortable enough now to shield us all.”

Laini agrees and sips her tea. “The only foul magic that crept in was blown sideways by the wind.”

“That’s incredible,” I say. “I almost wish I’d been here to see it. It’s been a while since we had a magical storm. Does Rom know why?”

Laini shakes her head and stirs another sugar cube into her tea. “No, but he’s going to ask at his next gargoyle assembly.”

“It’s great that he found more of his kind,” Tully says. “Are any of them Allysium gargoyles like him?”

That kind of gargoyle is the most powerful.

“Just one,” Laini says. Her gaze slips to the May Day festival flyer that’s pinned to the wall. It shows a maypole streaming with ribbons in every color of the rainbow. “When will you be there this evening?” she asks me. She sips her tea and gives a shimmy of enjoyment.

“I have to set a few things up for the next morning bake, so I might be there an hour after it begins.” The May Day festival starts right before sunset. “It’s easier now that Rosalind is back. Not that you two weren’t fantastic help. Thanks again, by the way.”

“Not a problem,” Tully says. “Don’t be too late to the festival. Argos is presenting a new invention and I don’t want you to miss it. He’s a genius in his workshop and in bed. I’m a lucky witch.”

Laini and I trade a grin.

“What’s his invention?” I ask. “Did he use the khymeia stones in a new way?”

Tully tosses her red curls over her shoulder and picks up Sio. “No hints. You have to watch it yourself.” The cat curls up in her lap, happy to have the witch’s attention. “I can’t wait to see who our kissing booth folks are this year.”

Betilda keeps this element a secret as long as she can when she’s in charge, building the excitement. It’s honestly a little childish, but who cares? It’s fun and Betilda is the mistress of fun, that’s for sure.

I shrug, hoping they can’t read my face like a book as Cyrus says he can. I am still shocked I agreed to work a shift at the second booth.

“I’ll be back,” I say, walking off.

Swallowing my nervousness, I slip behind the counter to grab Laini and Tully’s scone. I slide the treat onto a plate that has cherry blossoms painted around the edges.

The bell on the door jingles, and Rychell the spice merchant walks in.

“Rychell,” I say, motioning for her to come here.

She is alone this morning; her pixie son must be helping Betilda. Most of the younglings do.

“Happy May Day!” Her brown skin is luminous and her grin is infectious.

“Thanks! Back at you. So when I was in Kingstown…”

“With Cyrus, right? How is that going?”

My face flushes hot. My dream passes through my mind—the way Cyrus looked at me, like I was something to devour and I wanted so much to be devoured.

“Oh, um, that’s just…” I clear my throat and open my cash box just to have something to do with my hands. Laini and Tully stop chatting and eye us. Definitely eavesdropping. They’re right to watch out for me, to make sure I’m remaining firmly on the friend side with Cyrus. He would hurt me even though he’d never do it on purpose. “He’s a great friend,” I say, loudly enough that my wonderful, interfering friends can hear. “We had a blast.”

Rychell’s brow furrows and she studies my face. “Oh, right. Good. Okay.”

“In Kingstown, I tasted some sweet buns with purple turmeric. Can you get some of that in stock? I’d love to try it out in a couple of recipes.”

“Why didn’t you buy it there?”

“You’re my supplier, Rychell. I would never buy spice from another soul.”

Her smile is wide and earnest. “Aw, you’re sweet. Thanks. I think I can get some. I have plans for a new trade route, and once I untangle the details, I should be able to get several new spices and maybe even new dried fruits from the southeast coast.”

My heart lifts and I make a squealing sound. “I can’t wait!”

Baking and experimenting with recipes is a simple joy, and I’m grateful to have the distraction of planning that out instead of obsessing over the set of Cyrus’s shoulders and the way he walks and the way he smells and how that quilt looked draped over his trim waist at the Kingstown inn.

Rychell orders a cinnamon scone and a cup of iced raspberry tea. I take her coins and set up her order, positioning everything on a spring green tray. When I deliver it to her table, she thanks me sincerely.

The morning and lunch rush pass quickly, and Rosalind and I are sweating by the time we have the place to ourselves.

“You never mentioned how your trip went,” I say to Rosalind.

Her long, pink fingers are quick as she writes down our total take for the day. The quill feather flicks this way and that. I’m so glad she’s back from her sister’s house.

“It was a tough road after the storm,” she says, “but we made it all right. Did I tell you she had twins?”

“You did. Both are well?”

Rosalind chuckles. “Perfectly healthy. They’re so loud. I was happy to be there for the birth, but I’m glad I don’t live with them.”

I laugh. “I can imagine.”

We wipe every surface down and prep some bread and other items for the morning bake. When we are done, the place practically sparkles, it is so clean. Scents of cinnamon, citrus, rising dough, and chocolate fill the air.

“See you later!” Rosalind calls as she leaves for the evening.

I hurry upstairs to wash up and put on the soft woolen dress Rosalind brought back for me from her sister’s place beyond the Veil in the human realm. It’s a pretty peony pink, and triangular sections of the skirt have layers of fine lace. The neckline is lower than I would have chosen, but it’s May Day. If there is ever a time for cleavage, this is it. I giggle at myself as I brush out my hair. I twist the length into two knots that I pin low on the back of my head. Drawing two locks out to frame my face, I look in the mirror. Not bad. Not bad at all. Maybe tonight I’ll find someone who won’t break my heart. At the very least, I will learn more about kissing and have a good time. It should be a great distraction for my Cyrus-focused mind.