Chapter 3
Tully
T he next day, I ease the shelf on my market cart open and smile at the bright blue of the cold winter sky. The sun paints wisps of clouds the shade of a summer peach. Yesterday’s snow lines the roofs of Leafshire Cove and blankets the trees’ branches. Very nice.
“Well done, World,” I say to the sky.
I set out my sparkling vials and use my magic to arrange the little brooms I ordered from the birch besom down the way from my house. He did a fine job. I draw a looping shape in the air above the brooms and push my will into them so they’ll fly two or three feet from the ground when asked. Brooms don’t require a full potion to fly like creatures do. They enjoy it.
“Oh,” a voice says behind me, “you have youngling brooms. How sweet.” It’s Betilda, a middle-aged orc who always knows the best gossip.
“Morning. Yes, I’m all sugar and syrup over here.”
The middle-aged orc female laughs in her raspy way. “You’ll make good money from those, no doubt. Some of the parents in this town live to spoil their wee ones.”
I wiggle my eyebrows. “They’re my favorite type of customer.”
Betilda’s expression turns secretive and she leans close to me, her ample cleavage pressing into my arm. I force back a laugh. I do love the gal despite how over the top she is in general. She’s fun.
“Did you see the newcomer yesterday?” she asks.
I feel my smile melt. I know exactly which newcomer she is referring to. My witch intuition can almost see the image she’s created in her mind’s eye of the minotaur. Annoyingly, she isn’t imagining him nearly as handsome as he actually is. Ugh.
She presses a hand to her chest. “I stayed indoors with my new lover, but I heard he is magnificent.”
“I saw him. But even though he’s easy on the eyes, he’s a scam artist.”
She pulls away a fraction and gapes. “Truly?”
“Aye. His magic is a trick. He has no witch blood. I would have smelled it. He does these ridiculous illusions and?—”
She clasps her hands together under her chin, her eyes dancing. “The unicorn! I heard how lovely it was.”
“It’s not right, Betilda. I am fine with Rom using his stone magic, of course, that’s natural. And Grumlin only dolls up the food and drink with his inborn power as a wizard. But that minotaur? He’s unnatural. Dark. I’m telling you, we have to get rid of him as quickly as possible.”
She looks around the market and all the folks putting up stalls and carts. “Hmm. Yes. I suppose you’re right. Did your intuition tell you he is a bad sort?”
I hold my breath. I want to say it did, but that would be a lie. My intuition was quiet about him, like it was trying to figure him out. “Not yet. But I’m sure I’ll have a powerful feeling about his dark spirit if he has the stones to show up again.”
“Did you give him a talking to?” Her lips lift at one side and she raises an eyebrow.
I elbow her and roll my eyes. “I did, but it wasn’t fun, Betilda. Seriously, be wary if you see him again. Warn everyone you know.”
“Oh, I will, dear.”
The entire town will know to give the minotaur a wide berth from this moment on. Betilda doesn’t waste time in spreading news.
She saunters off toward the perfumery, waving a hand heavy with cheap copper rings. “Not to worry!”
Kaya is setting up her stall beside me, laying out her lovely cinnamon scones, frosted cinnamon rolls, and a few cottage loaves. I give her a nod and she grins back.
Then the minotaur stalks down the road, pushing his cart of lies. I growl quietly and my head is suddenly pounding. He lifts a hand, greeting Lord Mayor Rustion, who appears to be on his bi-weekly shopping trip. Rustion is a good old fellow, a lion shifter who is always kind to everyone. Maybe too kind.
Setting up his goods, the minotaur glances my way and smiles. Infuriating.
“I thought we understood one another!”
He’s chosen a place beyond Kaya’s stall, so thankfully he’s farther away, but it’ll never be far enough to suit me.
Kaya glances from him to me, a question in her eyes. She has a wrap on her left hand—probably from rock climbing with Renen, her brother. She hates climbing, but she won’t tell him. I ease over to her stall where a line is forming and the scents of butter and cinnamon swirl through the air.
I gesture at her bandage while keeping one eye on the minotaur. “What happened?”
“I’m fine. It’s just a blister from trying to keep up with Renen.”
“You should tell him you hate climbing.”
“I can’t. He would be so sad. I’m okay. Don’t worry, Tully.”
Over here at Kaya’s stall, I can spy on the minotaur’s goods. He is messing with what appears to be two small, black stones.
What are those?
I continue chatting Kaya up so I can spy more.
“You are a toughie,” I say. “You’d never know it to look at you.” Kaya had the appearance of a porcelain doll. “What’s your next big adventure?”
“I signed a contract with Cyrus to provide fresh baguettes each day.”
The dragon shifter runs The Gold Coin, one of two pubs in Leafshire Cove.
Kaya continues. “So I’ll probably be stuck in my kitchen for the rest of my existence. But if I manage to get enough money to hire someone, Renen wants to hike the old volcano. To check out the hot spot on the western edge of the caldera. But supposedly, it gets a little too dicey for hiking far before you can reach the spot.”
I give Kaya a deadpan look. “Gee, you think a volcano might be risky? What a shock.”
She snickers. “Shut up, Tully. Now, why are we glaring at this handsome minotaur?”
Laini approaches with Spark, her dragonfox, curled around her shoulders like a shawl. The creature has fox fur ears, dragon horns, green wings, and the snout of a fire-breather.
“I want to know what’s going on,” Laini says.
“That newcomer is taking people’s money and claiming he has potions like mine.”
Kaya gasps. “Minotaurs don’t have magic.”
“Exactly,” I say. “He’s a fraud.”
“I heard you two had it out yesterday,” Laini says.
Spark huffs a spark in the minotaur’s general direction. I pet his tucked, green wing.
The minotaur looks up from his multi-colored vials, linen packets, and folded squares of parchment. The stones are gone. Maybe he put them in his pockets?
“Good morning,” he calls out, looking at Kaya. “My name is Argos. I hope you don’t mind me setting up here.” He dips his chin at Kaya’s stall. “I do have permission from Lord Mayor Rustion.”
His line is the size mine usually is. Two of his illusions—a bear cub and a mountain lion—leap in a circle near his customers, or should I say, victims? More and more townsfolk gather at his cart instead of mine. I’m shaking I’m so mad.
Kaya and Laini look to me, and I glare at Argos. The gals join me in glaring. I like these women. They might be mere humans, but they’re not bad. Not bad at all.
“Keep your good mornings to yourself, Argos,” I say drawing out his name dramatically. “We don’t associate with criminals.”
His admittedly handsome lips tilt up on one side and he looks down, slipping his hand in his pocket. “I’m not a criminal.”
When he looks up, his gaze locks onto mine. My heart jumps like I’m ready for a fight.
“Then what do you call your business?” I demand. “Because minotaurs can’t do magic. Are you letting all these fine folk know that you’re only selling some sort of trick?”
“Do you call this a trick?”
He pops his palms together and silver sparkles erupt into the air. The growing crowd stops to watch as the sparkles become a dreamlike waterfall. The water plumes into a river beside a white-stone manor house with black banners that snap in the illusion’s wind.
The townsfolk gasp and flock to his cart.
“That wasn’t real magic?” Laini asks me very quietly. A lock of her blond hair falls and she tucks it behind her ear with a dye-stained finger.
I feel my nostrils flaring. “No. I don’t know how he’s doing this, but it’s not right.”
I whirl back to my own cart where I still have one solitary customer—the butcher. Laini and Kaya whisper about the tacky illusion as I force a smile.
“What can I help you with, good fellow?” I ask the goblin. “Would you like a brand new spell that I just developed?”
His black eyes glitter, but a pop sounds from Argos’s cart and the butcher glances that way.
I lean over my goods. “Eh, pay attention.”
“Uh, yes, of course. What does this new spell do?”
“It’ll protect you and your family from being fooled by illusions like those.” I jab a thumb toward the unicorns Argos has summoned with his trickery.
“But they seem harmless.”
Laini eyes the butcher. “If Tully says they aren’t, I believe her. She is a witch, a master of magic. Have you ever heard of a minotaur who can work spells?”
Spark narrows his slitted dragonfox eyes at the butcher.
The male rubs a hand over the back of his neck and blinks. “When you put it like that. How much?” he asks me.
I give him a grin. “This one is on the house.”
“Really?”
I nod. “You’re one of my most loyal customers. I like to reward loyalty.”
The goblin grins at Laini and Kaya and they smile approvingly.
Once he is focused on me again, I imagine a wall of protection over him. I visualize a sheen of magic welded like metal over his entire form. As I tip my wand this way and that, I imagine his daughter and his wife, then I draw the magic over where they would be standing beside him if they were here. The magic fills the air with the green, savory scent of sage and a smell like the blacksmith’s forge fire. The dome, which is invisible to everyone else, shudders and I whisper strength into the spell. I draw my wand in a tighter circle to tie the magic together neatly.
Then the dome of power shivers and blasts outward—a complete disaster!
“No!”