Page 1 of When the Witch Met the Minotaur

Chapter 1

Tully

In the busy marketplace, a light snow floats down to land on my customers’ shoulders and hats. Thankfully, the cold doesn’t dissuade them from waiting to buy my potions and vials of magic.

Halvard, the large orc male who runs the sword training sessions at the armory and works at the pub lifts a sparkling vial. “Tully, does this new flying potion work on larger folks?”

A gust of wind tugs at my pointed witch’s hat and the ends of my wild, red hair. I do my best to hold my hat on.

“It does. Just be sure to take it on a full stomach or it might make you nauseated.”

He closes his big green fist around the potion and retrieves a handful of coins with his free hand. I accept the payment and look to the next customer in line.

It’s young Greta. As a goblin, her skin is nearly as green as the orc’s, but it has a sheen to it. Her black eyes take in my wares.

“I need a love potion,” she whispers.

I lift a scarlet-hued sachet from the box beside my wooden vial holder. “Remember, I announced a new rule concerning these types of magical potions.”

She raises her head and her chin barely reaches the cart’s shelf. Goblins are always on the short side, but she is even smaller than most.

“I know,” she says. “Only use them at the town dance and you must inform the one taking it before dosing them or yourself.”

“Correct!”

Lord Mayor Rustion insisted on this new rule after hearing about what I did to Laini and Rom during the harvest season. I think the rule takes a good bit of the fun out of using a love potion, but I don’t want to go against Rustion and lose my right to sell at the market. It’s not as if Laini and Rom weren’t absolutely dying for one another at that point. I just shoved their shyness out of the way.

Greta pays me, and I lean to the side to see who is next, but my line is gone.

Poof.

Like I waved my wand and made them disappear.

What in the world?

I turn to see a new cart set up only a stone’s throw from mine.

It’shim.

It’s the arrogant minotaur that had the nerve to suggest he could help me with one of my spells on Laini’s wedding day. He has wide, broad horns that are decorated with metal bands and a chain. A ring glints from his aristocratic nose and his wavy hair falls into his dark eyes. A tail like a whip flicks behind him. I swallow and grit my teeth as he smiles at his line—a row of customers that were mine.

I march over and point my wand at him. Blessed Stones, he’s tall.

“What areyoudoing here?” I demand.

His gaze peppers my cheeks, forehead, and eyes, and his lips flick upward at the sides like this is completely amusing.

“I’m taking a bath, Mistress Tully. What does it look like?”

“Hilarious.” I bare my teeth. His eyes twinkle like he’s just super happy. Well, he’s about to be a lot less happy.

“Good morning to you, too,” he says with a smirk that enrages me.

“It was a good morning until you showed up,” I snap. “What are you hawking here?”

I finally look at his cart of goods. My mouth falls open and my wand arm drops to my side. Like me, he has a vial holder filled with sparkling magical concoctions. Two smaller shelves on the side of his cart show small bags of what smells like sage and wishberries.

“You are selling magic?” It’s impossible. Appalling. “But you’re a minotaur!”