Chapter 4
Kaya
I t’s nearly three in the afternoon and Cyrus still hasn’t shown up. My stomach sinks. I already bought the ingredients I need. I honestly didn’t think I expected Cyrus to show, but I guess I had my hopes up. It’s all right. I’m not angry with him. That’s just how he is. You can’t nail that dragon down. He is fun and kind, but he is flighty. I chuckle sadly at my own little joke. He belongs in loud places full of folks; he belongs in the skies, finding adventure. A dragon shifter like him can’t be happy in a quiet bakery with only quiet old me to keep him company.
I roll my eyes at myself, throwing off my self-deprecating mood. I am enjoying my time in the kitchen and I refuse to ruin it by being mopey. I closed up the bakery early so I could get to work on this massive order so the place is serene and smells of cherry blossom tea and cinnamon.
I taste the honey I am about to add to the dough. It’s sweet and almost fruity. I measure out a tablespoon and work it into the spongy dough. Sio circles my ankles and purrs in his odd, overly loud and staccato way.
“You’re tickling me, Sio.” I laugh and use my foot to nudge him gently toward his basket of toys in the corner
He takes the hint and trots over to retrieve his favorite item—a stuffed version of a shrub gryphon that my weaver friend, Laini, made for him last year. He tears into the toy like he is destroying a vicious enemy.
“Ooo, you are so strong, taking down the scary gryphon.”
I use the wooden paddle to adjust the coals in the oven, then slide the next batch of scones in to bake. At the back of the kitchen, I open up the carved wooden chest that Tully made for me. The chest’s magic keeps baked goods fresh as the moment you set them inside and it’s as priceless as Tully’s doubling spell. It would be impossible for me to make a living without them since I haven’t been able to hire enough staff. Wheat flour, butter, and sugar have all been too expensive to make it work.
The bell on my door chimes, making my heart jump. I close the keeping box and head toward the front. Did I forget to lock it?
“I’m sorry I’m late, Kaya.”
Cyrus is walking briskly toward me, a soft look of contrition in his handsome face. With shining scales highlighting his skin and spring-green hair—and those horns!—he is stunning. I have always wanted to touch his wings, too…
“Of course, he is,” a low, scratchy voice says.
I whirl around to see Sio stepping out of my magical chest.
“Yes, it’s me,” Sio says. “Your loyal companion.”
I can’t speak. I can only utter incoherent sounds and stare.
Cyrus does not have that problem. Ever. He hurries forward and takes a knee in front of Sio. “This is amazing! Nice to meet you, Sio.”
The maplecat gives him a withering look. “We’ve met.”
“Well, I know, but?—”
Heart skipping, I finally get my mouth working and I scoop the cat into my arms to hug him.
“Oh Sio! Do you like your new food?” I ask.
I’ve been feeding him a blend of spare fish parts supplied by Grumlin, the wizard who runs the Goat and Dragon tavern.
“I do.” He purrs into my neck and nuzzles my ear. “You are a very good human.”
“Have you always been able to talk? Why is this happening now?”
“I think that box of yours sparked the ability that is now latent in maplecat blood,” Sio says.
Cyrus and I both eye Tully the Witch’s trunk.
“Wow,” we say in unison.
Cyrus smoothes the leafy fur of Sio’s back. “Should we take a few minutes and give all of your associates out there a turn in the trunk?”
“Definitely not. It would be overwhelming to them. They’re too young. Now, I’m tired of this style of communication. Please let me go back to being a silent friend for a while.”
“Oh, all right,” I say.
I set him on the stool by the wooden countertop. He sits and flicks his tail, sending puffs of flour into the air.
Cyrus shakes his head, then faces me. “Magical talking cat aside, today has been strange, and that’s why I’m late. I’m so sorry. What can I do?”
“Let’s start on the second batch of icing, and you can tell me what strange things have been going on.”
I glance at Sio, wondering if he will speak again or if that’s all I’ll get out of him forever. Once Cyrus and I have the orange rind grated and the sugar and water gathered, we mix two bowls until the blend is smooth and smells divine.
“So tell me. What happened?” I ask.
Cyrus licks icing from his whisk, and the way his lips are parted holds my gaze for too long.
This job isn’t going to be easy, not with the best looking male in town in the kitchen with me.