Chapter 12

T rue to his word, Erwin returned the following day, just as the sun reached its highest point in the sky, bathing Sailcloth Row in golden beams. Evelyn squinted slightly as she opened the door and the light poured into the shop. She reminded herself to ask Erwin to take the boards off the windows, before she became akin to some underground rodent.

"Afternoon, Evelyn," the bright-eyed boy greeted, hesitating at the threshold even as she stepped back to allow him inside. "I finished work early. I hope that's all right?"

"Of course." She beckoned. "Come in, please."

He did so and immediately zeroed in on the assorted bottles, pots, and vials lined up along the mantel, then shifted his gaze to the windows at the back of the shop, where the bottles of collected soil stood in a neat row. The floor, too, was littered with supplies: jars of herbs, books, utensils, and bowls. Her jade mortar and pestle, a gift from her mother upon her sixteenth birthday, sat on the chipped bricks.

Erwin blinked his dark blue eyes, then one side of his mouth curved as he softly chuckled. "I can see why you're in need of some shelves and tables."

Evelyn smiled. "Yes, it's all a bit of a mess at the moment."

Erwin stepped closer to the hearth, eyeing the ingredients and potions.

"So, I was thinking at least one long table," Evelyn said, then gestured toward her waist. "About this high, I think, would be ideal. A bit taller than what one might use for dining. And the shelves, I thought, might go best here." She crossed the shop and placed a hand against one wall, between the hearth and the front windows.

Erwin nodded, a bit absently, then began to spin slowly in the center of the room. His gaze, which had been hesitant and fleeting the night before, suddenly focused with a certain intensity as he considered the walls, rafters, and boarded windows along the front of the shop. Then he made a few stamping motions with his foot at various places along the floor, causing some of the floorboards to creak and groan. He frowned at one patch near the corner, under one of the damaged windows.

"Is something the matter?" Evelyn asked, wringing her hands nervously .

"There could be some water damage here," he said. "We just repaired a house with the same thing. The salty air is hard on these older buildings, and we do get storms blowing in from time to time. Once a leak starts, it doesn't take long for the water to cause problems."

Evelyn's lips pressed together. She still had a decent amount of coin left over, even after paying the three-month lease up front, but some of her most expensive purchases had yet to come—more herbs and ingredients, of course, but she also needed a proper cauldron. The one she used in Benenfar had been much too large to fit through the mouth of her satchel. Even magic only stretched so far.

She also had no idea what might be required to break the curse—if such a feat was even possible. There could be special ingredients or implements that would have their own costs. She could write to Lady Kilgour and ask for money, but it would all take time.

Her mind flickered, thinking back to her conversation with Archie, and a curl of dread coiled in her stomach. There was another letter she needed to send first.

Erwin, sensing her hesitation, offered a kindly smile and ceased the stamping. "Don't worry. It's nothing I can't fix. And since I'm only an apprentice, I keep my rates low."

A relieved smile made its way to her lips, and she turned, gesturing at the copper kettle resting on the metal grate in the hearth. "Want some tea? I was just about to make a cup for myself. "

Erwin scratched his clean jawline, whether freshly shaved or simply too young for much in the way of facial hair, Evelyn wasn't sure. "Um, sure. What kind do you have? I've never been much of a tea drinker, but I like most things."

Evelyn smiled at his earnest answer, then swept over to the patch of floor where she'd gathered her jars of loose tea leaves—all her own blends, of course—and a collection of mugs. "Well, tell me this, which do you prefer, an apple or a sweet berry?"

Erwin considered it for a moment, still smoothing a hand over his jaw. "Berry. I think. Yeah."

"Okay." Evelyn pushed three of the jars aside, those with more tart or tangy notes. "And what sounds better to go with that berry, a citrus fruit or perhaps some cloves or cinnamon?"

Erwin's eyes lit up. "Oh, cinnamon, please. My mother used to add that to my porridge every morning when I was young. She said it was good for the blood."

Evelyn gave an approving nod. "Then it's settled." She selected one of the jars, unstoppered the cork, and scooped a generous portion into a clean mug.

She added a slim log to the fire and coaxed the dwindling flames back to life. The night before, she'd noticed Maeve's kitchen area had a cooking stove, but her own shop only had the hearth. It suited her fine, but she did wonder what it might cost to have a stove installed as she pushed the kettle near enough to heat, but not so close it could scorch. "Are you from Shieglas, then?" she asked, glancing over her shoulder as she worked.

Erwin's face fell, the light from his eyes all but extinguished. "No, ma'am."

"Please, call me Evelyn." She pushed to standing.

"I grew up in Brenlyn, but my parents died the summer I turned twelve. My grandparents took me in, but when I turned seventeen they sent me off to make a living and build a life on my own. I got a job on a merchant's ship. I thought it would be nice to travel a bit, see the world, and all that. We came here to port, and I got my times and dates mixed up—I've never been good with things like that—and when I went to board the ship and carry on with the crew to the next port, they told me the ship had gone without me."

Evelyn's heart twisted in her chest. "Oh, I'm so sorry, Erwin. That must have been frightening, to be all alone so suddenly."

A ghost of a smile passed his thin lips, his eyes looking up at her through dark lashes as his chin tucked nearer to his chest. "It's all right. Trudy says sometimes things just aren't meant to be, and I figure she knows what she's talking about, seeing as she's an elf, and all."

A tender smile plucked at the corners of Evelyn's mouth. She'd only recently met the gruff elf, yet somehow she could imagine the exchange vividly in her mind.

Erwin, still staring at the floorboard between them, shuffled the toe of his shoe across it before looking up and meeting Evelyn's eyes fully. "You're not the first witch I've met," he said quietly.

"No?"

He gave a brief shake of his head. "I—I've been cursed. By a witch."

Evelyn's breath hitched. "Cursed?"

Erwin held up his spindly hands, his palms facing her. "It's not contagious, or anything. And really, it's my own fault." He exhaled, a flicker of frustration on his young face.

"What do you mean? Your fault?"

Steam rose from the kettle's spout and Evelyn moved to pour the hot water into the mugs. She worried at her lower lip as she looked around, desperately wishing she had proper chairs, or even a pair of wooden crates or barrels for them to sit upon.

"After I got left behind by my crew, I took odd jobs to keep my place at the public house, and eventually, I got a job working in a proper household, up in the hilltop district. I mostly helped with the horses and sometimes ran errands in town."

Evelyn nodded along as she made the tea, then replaced the kettle near the small fire, added another small log, brushed her hands off, and gestured for Erwin to continue the tale.

He swallowed hard. "One day, in the market, I met a woman—well, now I know the truth, she was a witch or a sorceress. Trudy says it's hard to know the difference these days."

Evelyn's nose scrunched, unsure of what to make of that particular piece of advice.

"She was kind to me, and bought me lunch," Erwin continued, shifting on his makeshift chair. "When I told her about my place in the Dunlas house, she asked me if they'd been invited to Lord Greymairn's ball. I told her I didn't work inside the main house, so I wasn't privy to all of that sort of thing."

"All right."

"Anyway," Erwin sighed, "one thing led to another, and to make the story short, I stole an invitation and gave it to the woman—witch—sorceress." He frowned. " Her . As she wanted to go."

Evelyn gave a small nod, showing the young man there was no judgment on her part. "But if you did as she asked, why would she set a curse on you?"

Erwin's cheeks went pink. "See, that's where it might be more my fault. She said she'd grant me a wish if I got her the invitation, only I didn't ask her what kind of wish. And as it turned out, her specialty had to do with animals. She said she had a spell that would turn me into any animal I wished; all I had to do was say some magic word, and I could change back and forth whenever I wanted."

Evelyn blinked. "Oh my!"

"I'd kind of hoped I could ask for a bag of sunmarks or a big featherbed or a cart and horse of my own—" Erwin shrugged. "I didn't know what kind of animal I would want to be, seeing as the thought never crossed my mind."

"So, what did you tell her?"

"I asked if I could have more time to think about it. And she said I could, but that she was a busy woman. So, she made it so all I had to do was speak my choice aloud once I'd made it."

Evelyn winced, sensing where the story was headed. "Oh dear."

Erwin's ears went pink. "I know. I should have just made up my mind, but I couldn't decide. Not on the spot. She left, with the invitation, mind you, and I set off to the shore to do some thinking. I bought a sandwich from the lady who sometimes sells them to the dock workers, and took it to my favorite thinking rock." Erwin paused for a moment, his young face screwing up with despair at the memory. "And out of nowhere, this fat gull comes swooping in, meaning to steal my sandwich! And so, I swatted it away and said, ‘Oh, leave it alone, ya fat old gull!'—"

Evelyn swore under her breath, her eyes squeezing shut.

"Yeah," Erwin replied bitterly. "Happened in a flash. One minute I was sitting there on my rock, enjoying a sandwich, and the next, I had wings and feathers and a sharp beak. I don't mind saying, the first thing I did was get my sandwich free from the pest of a bird who got me into this mess! "

Evelyn bit back a rueful smile as she rose and retrieved the two mugs. As she passed one to the young man, the slight moment of humor faded. "I'm so sorry, Erwin. That sounds like some kind of terrible nightmare."

"The worst part was I couldn't figure out how to change back. In my panic, I forgot the word the witch told me to say! I should have asked her to write it down. So, for days, or weeks—I don't really know how much time passed. I started going through the trash behind Trudy's bait shop, looking for an easy meal, and when she caught me, she started to shoo me away, but somehow, she knew I wasn't what I seemed."

"Ah." Evelyn nodded, a snippet of conversation coming back to the surface of her memory. "And that's why you said you were working off a debt at the bait shop. I was wondering how that happened."

"Eventually she helped me change back, and now I can shift back and forth whenever I want."

"Well, that's something! Do you enjoy flying?" Evelyn asked, thinking of the first time she'd flown on her mother's broomstick. There was something about flying that was terrifying and exhilarating in equal measure.

"I suppose. It helps me get to where I'm meant to be on time," Erwin replied with another half-hearted shrug of his slim shoulders. He took a sip of tea at last, and a shiver of delight played along Evelyn's spine as a smile bloomed on his face, banishing the misery there moments ago. "Wow! What's in this?" he asked before going back for a second, and even more enthusiastic, swig.

"Oh, I use ripe briar berries, raspberries, the zest of a lemon, and a sprig of mint."

Erwin swirled the contents of his mug, a bemused look on his face. He smiled when he looked back up at her. "Are you sure you want to open a potion shop? It seems to me, a tea house would be even better!"

Evelyn laughed at that even as she bobbed her head. "I'm quite sure. But thank you. I promise to keep your mug full while you work, if you're still interested in the job, that is." She paused and glanced around. While the room was clean and warm, there was still a long way to go before it could be considered serviceable, let alone comfortable or inviting.

Finishing another swallow, Erwin nodded vigorously. "I've already got some ideas."

Evelyn smiled over the rim of her mug. "Well, let's hear them."

The boy got to his feet and pulled a square of parchment from the pocket of his trousers. "I drew these last night," he explained as he smoothed out the creases. He handed it to Evelyn with a nervous smile. "I'll just need to add in the measurements, and then I can get you the prices for the supplies. I can get most of the wood for free or cheap, but I might need a couple of tools. They don't let me take them home with me from the job site."

"Of course!" Evelyn said, nodding enthusiastically as she considered the careful drawings. They were more detailed than she expected, and her excitement grew as she envisioned the pieces coming to fruition and filling the space around her.

Erwin took down his notes and finished his tea, then carefully set the empty mug on the mantel, in the only clear space amongst the colorful vials and bottles. "I can come back in a few days to get started."

"Sounds wonderful. Thank you, Erwin."

The young man smiled, then gestured to the mug on the mantel. "And would you maybe… er, make me another cup like that?"

Evelyn smiled, raising her own mug. "I'll be here, waiting to put the kettle on."