“I want you to quit using magic on me.”
He snorts. “I’ve barely even been using magic on you.”
“Have you?” I ask, suspiciously.
His face contorts with incredulity. “What? No.”
I study his features. He seems so genuine yet I don’t trust him at all. “And I want to know what your glamour is.”
His eyes immediately turn to stone as he turns face forward in his chair. Several seconds pass, his face hard and contemplative. “That’swhat you really want to know?” he grumbles.
“Yes. And I want the book.”
“Fine.”
“What is it?”
“Not here,” he says under his breath, eyes surreptitiously darting toward Vera. “Later.”
I reach a hand toward the book. He slides it over, an aggravated movement, still not meeting my eye.
Vera’s watching us from across the room, expression oddly…hopeful. “Do you make everything?” I ask, gesturing down to my plate. “It’s really good.”
“Thank you,” she says with a smile and a shy tip of her head. I catch the tail end of something zooming across the room. I tense as glass shatters against the opposite wall.
Vera whirls. “Oh, Gods forbid someone compliments me.” Another soapy plate emerges from the sink, levitating there for a moment before it's suddenly hurtling across the room. It shatters against the cabinet, sending glass scattering across the floor. “This damned spirit, I swear.” She barely ducks down in time as a plate flies over her head. “Fine! I didn’t make it by myself. Kobold helped.”
Another plate rises from the soapy water. Vera shields her body with her hands. “I mean, I helped Kobold, Mother, Maiden and Crone,” she swears. “He did most of the work. Under my supervision,” she adds quietly.
“Is that better,” she asks, flinging her hands up in resignation. The plate settles back into the soapy water. She forms a variety of symbols with her hand and the shards of glass disappear. “Sorry, he gets really jealous.”
I look to Sitri for some sort of explanation. “Kobold is the spirit that runs this kitchen. Vera manages him.” He leans forward. “Or tries to,” he whispers. “I think this is our cue.”
I thank both Vera and Kobold to prevent further attempts at her life. “It was really nice to meet you,” I say as we tug ourselves to our feet.
“She does have manners,” Sitri grumbles.
“At least one of us does,” I snipe.
“Thank you, Vera,” he says pointedly.
“Please do come back,” Vera says.
“We’ll be back,” Sitri promises, eyes meeting mine as he says, “As often as we can.”
He’s quiet as he navigates us through the dim corridors. I scrutinize his profile, puzzling over both his polarizing nature and what he could possibly be hiding under the layer of magic. He snaps his head to the side. “What?”
“What’s your glamour?”
“You’re really not going to let this go, are you?” he groans.
“How do I even know that this is what you really look like?”
He snorts, irked expression turning into a smirk. “Are you implying that you think someone would choose this face?”
I tip my head. “I think you’re already far too aware of that.”
He stops suddenly, staring at me intently. “I think…that was a compliment coming from you.”
