“That is generous.”
Betilda nods and rolls one of her many cheap rings around her large forefinger. “You only need to do it for an hour or so.”
“Will someone else be taking over after my shift?”
“Possibly. We haven’t organized a list yet.”
“All right. I’ll do it. But only because it’s for the orphans.”
A number of human orphans had been drawn to Leafshire Cove from the human realm. Young curiosity played a role in that, most likely, but also it was widely known that Veil creatures are kinder to young without homes than most humans are. Not all, of course, but most.
“Thank you so much, Cyrus. Is it too early for a drink? Just something light. That fruit wine you had on the menu last spring, maybe?”
“They call itsangriain the human world. I don’t think it’s too early. The sun isn’t up yet, so in many ways it’s still last night!”
She guffaws, and I pour her out a small cup of the dark pink beverage. I made it with mint, lemons, strawberries, and dessert wine.
We share a chat on the weather—the most popular topic in Leafshire Cove—and the sweet and bright taste of the sangria almost cheers me up. It is going to take a lifetime for me to get over Kaya, but I’m good at pretending. I can act like a simple friend and keep her close by. Not too close, but …
Betilda sets her cup down and gets up from her stool. “… and if the rain comes during the festival, it will only make everything more exciting, right?”
I missed the first part of what she was saying, but I reply vaguely as she sashays toward the door. “Definitely. See you soon.”
She waves over her shoulder.
The minute the door shuts behind her, my mind goes back to Kaya. I’m annoying myself with this obsession. She’s bringing her baked goods to Lady Egrettington today, and I truly hope all goes well.
Maybe it wouldn’t be a bad idea to fly over the road to Kingstown and check that Kaya is all right. Just a quick peek through the forest.
Chapter 18
Kaya
None of my other friends were available to travel to Kingstown. But it’ll be fine as long as I get on the road quickly. I load up the wagon I borrowed from Rychell—not easy with my thumb still hurting—and get moving right after sunrise.
Traveling to Kingstown won’t be dangerous if I get there during daylight hours. The Veiled Kingdoms are fairly safe because we haven’t had any droughts or political uprisings—the two things that tend to make folks desperate here. I’ve only heard of one instance of robbery in the woods that separate our town from the city that houses the king and queen. That was over a year ago, too.
Sio curls up beside me on the wagon’s bench. He hasn’t spoken this morning, but he has stayed close. Last night, I told him all about Devin, Cyrus’s protective fire magic, and the dragon shifter ghost. I didn’t have time to talk to Laini or Tully about the ruins and what Cyrus found, and besides, I don’t want to. They would only give Cyrus trouble for going up there and tempting the supposed curse. Sio slept in the space between my shoulder and head all night long, and it was truly comforting. I’m so grateful for him.
I click my tongue at Rychell’s black mare, Tamar. She’s a sweet old female, and she immediately increases her pace until we are beyond the town walls and in the dappled shadows of the forest.
We bounce over a rough area on the road. The cart wheels squeak lightly, and Sio digs his claws into the bench. I turn to check that the ropes I have securing the magical chest of baked goods are still in place. Thankfully, they are. A nice scent comes from the wooden container—cinnamon, orange, and butter—and it combines with the perfume of sun-warmed earth and green plants. Mistberry bushes grow along the road, but their fruits are still too small to eat as they get less sunshine under the large oaks, beeches, and maples.
I pass a merchant family on their way to Leafshire Cove. Younglings hang from every edge of the cart, and they laugh uproariously every time the wagon goes over a bump in the road. I wave, and the merchant and his wife raise a hand in greeting.
After that, I don’t see anyone for hours. Tamar and I stop a few times to rest, eat a little—bread and cheese for me and clover for the mare—and to drink from the Leafshire River’s offshoot, Mossy Creek.
I don’t mind being on the road like this. The finches are chirping merrily overhead as we make our way through the woods. Sio and Tamar answer all of my little questions with meows, whinnies, and huffing sounds.
“So you think I’m doing the right thing, backing away from Cyrus?”
Tamar whickers, and Sio rubs his head against my arm.
“All right. Good. But that kiss…”
A growl of sorts rumbles from Sio’s warm body, and Tamar grunts.
“Fine. I’ll try to stop thinking about it. I just wish I was more used to being kissed.”
