“My lover then? We’ll see.” He eyes my body, and his eyebrows lift in what looks like appreciation.
My heart pounds in my ears and in my core. Dammit. “You’re ridiculous.”
I turn on my heel and start toward the door. “I’m going to research the magic under the square. Rustion wants you there, so finish your cider and get your tail out here.”
I push the door open with more strength than the action required and storm away.
When I pass the town fountain and glimpse the area I’m aiming for, I realize something is wrong. A crowd has gathered around the mysterious hole in the ground and someone is talking rather loudly amid the ruckus. Rustion’s rope lies on the churned-up cobblestones and splatters of dirt mar the outside of the shops and homes that surround this side of the market square.
The speaker continues, and now it’s clear Betilda is the one regaling everyone with the tale of whatever happened here.
“I saw a shower of sparkles which were leftovers from a storm potion on that roof there, I think. They dropped into the hole, and then it exploded!” Betilda has a hand on her forehead and is batting her eyelashes.
Cyrus stands beside her. No wonder I didn’t see him in his pub. “Is that how the shrub gryphon ended up in the tree?”
“Aye, yes. I think his little wing is broken.”
“He was probably digging for worms,” the chandler’s daughter said quietly.
Her mournful eyes lift to the whimpering gryphon slumping over a high branch in the maple overhead. One of the small creature’s flame-hued wings hangs at a disturbing angle. Poor thing.
I eye the chandler’s daughter. “He will heal They’re remarkably resilient. I’ve seen ones far worse off come back even stronger in a twenty-four-hour period.”
The young female nods and gives me a tentative smile. I pat her head, unsure of what to do with the tears now dropping down her cheeks. Thankfully, her father and mother arrive and save me.
Laini’s Spark comes zipping from behind the row of shops. He flies into the maple and settles beside the gryphon. Laini isn’t far behind, her face scrunching as she approaches. She standsbeside me and tries to look over two goblins’ shoulders to see Betilda.
“What’s going on?” she asks me.
“Not sure yet.”
Betilda catches my eye. “Here’s Tully! She’ll fix this up,” she says, waving me forward.
“Can everyone take a good ten steps away from this area?” I say, raising my voice so all can hear over the gusting wind. It smells like snow. I squint up at the tower. “Rom! Are we going to get a snowstorm?”
“Aye, but just a regular storm,” Rom says. “No magic involved. Might be a heavy fall for a while though.”
My fellow Leafshire inhabitants and I nod and wave a thanks for his warning. A tingling sensation flits down my back and I turn to see Argos. Hmm. I guess his khymeia are affecting his aura because usually I only sense magical folk in that particular way.
“Want these people farther back?” he asks, studying first my face and then the crowd.
“Please, yes.”
Laini and Argos lift their hands and urge everyone a few feet back from where I’d already backed them up.
I point my wand at the disturbed ground and will the dirt and stones away from the spot where the odd magic is strongest. Magic curls down my arm and focuses in my wand. The debris lifts into the air and settles around the area. I accidentally drop the equivalent of a shovelful onto Argos’s boots.
“Oopsie.” I give him a wicked grin.
His eyes narrow, and he shakes his feet to throw off the dirt.
I aim my wand again and urge more earth away, but there are only simple rocks, wet dirt, and the occasional larvae.
“Hmm.”
Pushing more power into my wand, I switch my aim. A prickling sensation dances over my back and along my arms. There’s a loud bang. A snap.
Night drops down like a sack over my head.
