Chapter 5
Kaya
I cough, hoping to shake off this attraction I’m feeling toward my friend, and turn to check the oven.The scones are ready. We set them on my cooling rack and they fill the kitchen with their glorious scent.
“There’s a tourist here who claims that dragons are his hobby interest,” Cyrus says.
“I hope he didn’t put it like that.”
“He did.”
“I’m sorry. I’m guessing he is one of my kind.”
Cyrus chuckles. “Yes, but I won’t hold it against you.”
Humans can be so oblivious and even rude when it comes to dealing with Veil folk. “Thanks. Did he try to poke and prod you?”
Raising an eyebrow, Cyrus grins. His elbow brushes my arm as we place the last of the scones on the rack. “He’s not my type.”
I give him a stern look. “That’s not what I meant and you know it.”
“If you wanted to do any poking or prodding, I’m yours.”
When we first met, I found far too much joy in this flirting he does, but I know now this is just his normal behavior with almost everyone. He doesn’t like me like that. We are firmly just friends. Despite what my head knows, my body remains under the influence of his considerable charm. My cheeks heat and my mouth goes dry.
“You better behave, dragon. I have a magical cat on my side now and his teeth are legendary.”
Sio bares said chompers at Cyrus, who grimaces and holds up his hands.
“All right. I’ll be a good lad,” Cyrus says. “I swear it.”
“Don’t go promising things you can’t deliver,” I say, laughing.
While we drizzle the icing over the scones, Cyrus goes on with his story.
“This tourist said he is headed up to the ruins because the old castle was once owned by a dragon shifter.”
I drop my icing bowl and Cyrus darts forward. He catches it neatly and returns it to me. When his fingers brush mine, my skin tingles like he has loosed a few sparks over my hand. He looks from his hand to my face and his eyes have gone serious.
“He knows that place is cursed, right?” I say quickly, trying to smooth over the awkward vibe happening between us. “Did you warn him?”
“Of course, I did.” The serious look fades from Cyrus’s expression; he appears legitimately afraid. “But I didn’t get the idea that he was going to listen to anyone’s advice.”
“That type, huh?”
“Exactly.”
I tsk at this fellow human who must also be an idiot. I gather the bowls and bring them to the pump sink. “So you were talking to him and trying to keep him from going up there?”
Cyrus leans over me to dampen a small towel. “Yes, and I went to Rustion. He sent some guards to the ruins to keep them off the grounds.”
“That was a good move. They’ll listen to liveried guards, surely.”
“Or we will end up with a few dead tourists on our hands,” he says, wiping up the flour I dusted over the wooden counter.
“Do you truly think the curse is what killed Bentaki?” I ask.
He tosses me the towel. I catch it and lob it into the basket by the back door.
“Nice shot,” he says. “It’s impossible to know about Bentaki, but I think so and most other Veil folk agree.”
“You all do have a good sense for the magic in your realm.”
He spreads his hands and his wings shuffle behind him. “It’s part of us.”
“Maybe we should find a good stopping point here and go check on the man,” I say.
“I don’t know, he seems like trouble. Even though he did say he could help me find out about my bloodline.”
I grip his arm. “That would be amazing!”
He’s only ever brought up his clouded history once when he was deep in his cups at Yule years ago. He was left by his shifter parents and has very little memory of them. He was raised by Robin and Lucretia, two humans who ran the pub before him.
He looks down at my hand on his arm and raises his eyebrows. I let go, my cheeks going hot.
“Sorry,” I stammer. “I’m just excited for you…”
“Of course, sweetness.”
He touches my shoulder and rubs his thumb over the little cats embroidered into the fabric. I’m having trouble breathing evenly. Releasing me, he heads to the bin near the door to the front of the bakery. A half smile pulls up one side of his lips, and he rubs his hands together, dislodging flour from his talons and palms.
“It would be interesting to find out why we are so rare,” he says, “and what our culture was like when it was flourishing. I’m assuming that because that castle belonged to a dragon, then we must have flourished at some point.”
“Makes sense.”
“Eh, Kaya!” Tully’s muffled voice carries through the closed front door.
I hurry out, Cyrus beside me. Laini is there too. They are my two closest friends, aside from Cyrus, and they’re opposite sides of the same coin. Tully is unrestrained, loud, and outgoing. Laini has a shy personality and keeps pretty quiet unless someone stirs her up. Both are worth more than gold to me. They’re always there when I need them, and they crow about my pastries and breads to everyone they meet. I probably have them to thank for Lady Egrettington’s order.
I unlock the door, and they walk in, sniffing like hounds.
“Can I take a stale chocolate croissant off your hands?” Tully asks as she hurries to my display cabinet.
“Sure. Take whatever you like.”
She sets a coin I didn’t ask for on the countertop, then dives into the display.
Laini hugs me and smiles widely at Cyrus. “What’s going on? Why did you close early?”
I fill them in on the big order and how Cyrus offered to help.
Tully takes a big bite of her treat and eyes Cyrus. “That’s good of you.” Her look says she is surprised.
Laini nods and picks up Sio. “Need two more sets of hands? I can’t move forward on my tapestry today.”
“Waiting on wool?” I ask.
“Aye.”
“I’d love more help.” I glance at Cyrus to make sure I’m not hurting his feelings by accepting their offer, but he seems unruffled.
A bang sounds, and we see Laini’s dragonfox bumping his head into the door’s window glass. Laughing, I open it up and he flies in.
“Sorry about the lock, Spark,” I say to the dragonfox.
Sio jumps from Laini’s arms, and the two magical creatures spend the next hour happily chasing one another, surrounded by ten more maplecats that I allow to slip in. The rest of us work on another batch of scones, more icing, and the packaging I’ll need to transport the goodies to Kingstown.
I measure out some butter and flour while Cyrus works the last hunk of dough I mixed up.
“You’re getting good at that,” I say to Cyrus.
His wings tuck in tightly and he grins over his shoulder. “Right? I might have missed my calling.”
Tully is laughing and shaking her head as she folds a half sheet of oiled parchment so it will fit six scones neatly for travel.
“What?” Cyrus stops working the dough and looks her way.
The witch shrugs. “I could never imagine you living a baker’s disciplined, quiet life.”
“You don’t know. I might get tired of all the noise next door.”
“Really?” Laini asks Cyrus as she sweeps some spilled flour out the back door.
“I’m more than just a gambling partier,” Cyrus says in an accent that mimics the nobility’s slight drawl. “I contain multitudes.”
We all laugh at that.
“Well, I’m happy to have you as long as I can, anyway,” I say. Then I realize that sounded different from what I wanted it to. “I just mean…” I swallow.
Laini is about to shut the back door, and a face peers in. Halvard, the orc who works at Cyrus’s pub part-time.
“What is it?” Cyrus sets his dough to the side and wipes his hands on a towel I keep hanging from the wooden counter for that purpose.
“The dragon expert human is back, and he has everyone riled up about the ruins. You might want to come over.”
“You’re twice my size, buddy. Why don’t you kick their moronic arses out and tell them to stop spreading dangerous ideas in our town?”
Halvard’s gaze flits to each of our faces. “I can if you want me to. But maybe you should hear what he’s saying first. You being the subject of his tale and all.”
Cyrus rolls his eyes. “I think he’s full of it. I bet he didn’t even go up there. I had Rustion’s guards keep them off. I seriously doubt he and his party went against them.”
“Go on, Cyrus,” I say. “We are fine here.”
“You sure?”
“Yes. Take care of your business. We don’t want a repeat of the 300-Year Festival nightmare,” I say.
He snorts a laugh. “No, we do not.”
After a friendly pat on my back, he takes off with Halvard, and I’m left with Laini and Tully, who are both being oddly quiet. Well, it’s odd for Tully anyway.
“Come clean, Tully,” I say. “What are you not saying right now? What is going on?”