Chapter 26

R eluctantly, Evelyn followed Coren through the enchanted door and returned to the small clearing in the woods outside Shieglas. Nareen trotted ahead, eager to sniff the trees, while Coren tugged his wooden delivery cart through the doorway. The door vanished as quickly as it appeared, and Evelyn stood for a moment, staring at the tree, marveling anew at how seamlessly the magic worked. Even though she had grown up among a coven of witches, there was still so much she could learn about magic. She thought it would take at least ten lifetimes to truly feel as though she understood it all. And perhaps, not even then.

The morning was crisp, but not cold, and they left the rain behind in the realm of the fairy as they walked together. Evelyn shrugged off her cloak and carried it draped over one arm. Coren asked about the runes stitched along the hem, and she told him about the protective enchantments woven into the threads and garment itself.

"That's quite something," he said when she finished showing the final rune.

Evelyn couldn't help but laugh. "Says the man who lives in an enchanted garden."

Coren smiled. "Ah, I suppose that's true. But I can't do magic on my own. Not like you."

Evelyn's smile faded at the edges and she nodded, her mind drifting back to her shop and the cauldron full of cleansing potion. It would be ready by now, assuming Jarvis and the innkeeper hadn't followed through on their threat to burn the place to cinders.

The question was what would she do when the curse was broken? In the aftermath of Lady Kilgour's proposal, Evelyn assumed she would hop on her broomstick and fly until she couldn't fly any more, maybe even going so far as to leave Calendra altogether. There was bound to be a place for her somewhere in the other eight kingdoms.

But now…?

Her gaze flitted to Coren. He'd begun whistling along with the birds as they stirred in their nests, perched high above their heads. He knew every note and trill, and mimicked them with an easy smile.

He caught her watching him and chuckled. "You think I've gone mad, don't you?"

"No." She shook her head. "Not in the slightest. "

Coren and Nareen accompanied her all the way to Sailcloth Row, reaching the shops just as the sun banished the last of the hazy predawn blue from the sky, and revealed a clear day with only a hint of fluffy white clouds. A mild wind swept in from the harbor, carrying with it the calls of the gulls that swooped low over the water, looking for an early meal.

Nareen's jaunty strides quickened into a full trot as they turned onto Sailcloth Row, and Evelyn was relieved to find it looking the same as it had the night before. The door to Maeve's shop was thrown open, likely to let in the balmy sea breeze. However, in the effort to air out her shop, the cobbler was also releasing the aroma of cooked breakfast meats, which the old dog was quite keen to investigate. Nareen's tail wagged as she slipped through the open doorway.

A startled cry soon followed.

"Nareen!" Coren barked, dropping the handles to his cart a little too abruptly, sending some of the glass jars clacking together.

Evelyn hesitated a moment, ensuring nothing was too obviously broken, then hurried after him.

"You give that back, mutt!" came Maeve's voice. "That's meant for the stock pot! Not for you to bury in a hole someplace!"

Evelyn bit back a laugh as she stumbled inside and found Maeve chasing Nareen around the shop, as the dog happily displayed her prize—a juicy bone—while Coren tried to both apologize to Maeve and scold the dog in equal measure, his voice going from stern to sheepish and back again.

Maeve heard Evelyn's choked giggle and stopped short, jamming her fists onto her hips. "Oh, is this amusing to you?" she accused, then blew out a puff of breath to sweep a mess of tangled black hair from her sweat-slicked brow. In the corner kitchen, steam billowed from the large pot perched on the cooking stove. She'd asked Maeve why she preferred cooking at the shop when she no longer lived there, and she'd explained Sio preferred it this way, as most of Maeve's recipes involved copious amounts of fish and onions.

Coren used the distraction to his advantage, backtracking and snagging the large bone from the hound's jaws. "Blasted dog!" he exclaimed, then thrust the bone toward Maeve, realizing a moment too late that it was rendered somewhat undesirable.

She arched her black eyebrows at him and he retracted it slowly. His expression crumpled as he untucked one side of his shirt and used it to wipe the bone clean.

Maeve tossed her hands into the air and stalked back to her kitchen. "May as well let the beastie keep it!"

Nareen gave a hearty bark of agreement.

"I'll replace it," Coren said quickly. "I'll be by the butcher this afternoon."

Maeve looked up from the contents of her pot, eyeing Evelyn and Coren in turn. Her expression shifted as she caught the state of Evelyn's rumpled dress, and she straightened, the corners of her mouth curving into a wicked grin. "Are you just getting home, Evelyn?"

The smile dropped from Evelyn's face, her cheeks going warm.

Maeve threw her head back and cackled. "I told her!"

Coren looked to Evelyn for explanation. She could only shrug.

"Sio thought it would take another week for you two to finally—" She gestured between them with a long-handled wooden spoon.

"Salt and stars!" Coren groaned.

"Oh, come on. We're all grown here, are we not? You two have been circling around one another for long enough!" She laughed again and plunged the spoon back into the pot, stirring in wide circles. When she dredged it back up, she cupped a hand under the spoon and crossed over to where Evelyn stood. "Here," she said, thrusting the steaming bite toward her, "tell me what I'm missing."

Evelyn took the bite and rolled the creamy soup over her tongue. The base was rich, likely loaded with butter and cream, as her other stew had been. This one had garlic and lemon, sea salt, and cracked pepper. It was quite tasty, but Evelyn lifted a finger and stepped back outside, returning with two stalks of green onion plucked off Coren's cart.

Maeve snatched it from her and breathed it in deeply, before setting it down to chop. "Excellent! Now, are you both coming for supper? I'm making extra stew since it's Trudy's turn to bake the bread. I keep telling her there's no shame in buying some from the baker—but nooo! Such a stubborn old bird." Maeve paused, her dark eyes shifting past Evelyn to the open door, as though she half-expected to find the elf woman standing there. "Anyway, the point is, you'll want to fill up on stew and tell her you have no room for the bread. Or, better yet, take some and slip it to that mutt of yours under the table when she's not looking. Although you should know, the Four themselves won't be able to help you if Trudy catches you, so look alive!"

Evelyn laughed as the bewilderment on Coren's face grew. "Will there be a game of Bog Troll to follow?" she asked Maeve.

Coren blinked. "Bog Troll ?"

Maeve and Evelyn exchanged a sly grin.

Oh, yes, this was going to be a night to remember.

But as they left Maeve's shop and went next door to her own, Evelyn knew there was one thing she needed to do before dinner. And when it was done, she couldn't be sure Coren would want anything to do with her.