Chapter 32

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

WREN

I half-expect Caelan to be waiting for me outside my shop and house, under the weathered beige and green awning, the streetlights painting him in shadow, but there's no one there.

Fenn sits by the back door, his head tilted and whiskers twitching, as I glance around.

I'm disappointed.

We spent three days together, and that's all it's taken for him to be my new normal.

For not being lonely to be my new normal.

It strikes me then, how alone I have been since my parents passed, since I left our home in the city when this place was left to me.

Sure, I made friends with Piper, but it always felt like I was lingering on the edge of her friend group with Nerissa and Willow and the other witches, like I was looking in on their established bonds and trying to find my place.

I lock the door behind me, climbing the stairs to my snug home over the store and mull it over.

The stairs creak as I walk, the sound comforting.

As comforting as the knowledge that I'm not on the outside, not anymore, that the group of us witches, the witches of Wild Oak Woods, have set something in motion.

Our coven will be the first in this small town on the edge of the Ever Forest, and there's something important about that, all on its own.

I'll be the first of something.

A founding member.

A part of something more, with a group of witches I truly like.

By the time I lock my front door, Fenn zooming around the apartment and yipping, I'm in a fantastic mood.

Maybe I've found a permanent place here in Wild Oak Woods, after all.

Maybe this… beautiful thing I've started with Caelan will last, too.

I take my time soaking in the tub, using a special blend of salts and lavender I bought from Willow to ease my sore muscles.

When I climb into the bed alone, I miss Caelan, but I don't feel alone.

Not anymore.

"What is it," I slur, clawing at my sleep-filled eyes.

The hammering noise continues, relentless, and I look around blearily before sliding out of my bed. It's still dark out, though the rosy fingers of dawn have started to stretch over the treetops in the distance.

Yawning, I stretch my arms high overhead before padding my way to the window. The patterned curtains are soft against my hands as I pull them back, peeking outside and expecting to see Caelan or smoke and a fire or something—but not Piper.

Piper, who's sobbing, holding a massive wicker basket covered in hot pink checkered fabric. Piper, who's knocking on my front door, making the bell overhead jingle with every strike.

I throw open the window, or try, before realizing I've never opened it and it's painted shut.

Ew. I should ask my brownie to fix that.

Grimacing, I toss my threadbare robe over myself and sprint downstairs. I nearly die when Fenn bounds out in front of me like a homicidal cat, but I manage to keep my balance in spite of him.

Finally, I fling open the door, and Piper howls in anguish when she sees me, flinging her arms around me.

The smell of sweet bread and jam waft from her basket and I hug her back, my stomach flip-flopping with worry… and then growling loudly.

"She, she—" Piper attempts. Her frantic tears soak the fabric of my flimsy robe and I pat her back, shushing her and slightly out of my element.

Okay, maybe completely out of my element. "What is it, Piper? Are you hurt?"

"She—she's coming for the autumn festival and, and—" she wails as a fresh bout of sobs rack her.

"I don't understand, Piper, come upstairs and I'll fix us some tea, and you can tell me all about it, okay?"

Piper makes a senseless noise that I assume is agreement, and I hurry her up the stairs before she can start sobbing again.

I take the basket from her and set it on the table, putting the kettle on for fresh ginger peach black tea, and cast her a worried look.

I've only known Piper for a handful of months now, but I've never seen her like this. The closest I've seen her to truly upset was when she couldn't get a specialty flavor right. Her hands twist in front of her at the table, shaking slightly.

The cabinet door creaks as I open it, digging through my cups to find the sturdiest one.

"Why is there a cup of milk on the table?" she asks, sniffling.

"I have a brownie, remember? That's what they like."

The tea kettle begins whistling, and I add the steaming water to the pot and take my time setting it on the table, putting an old crocheted doily under the pot. It's seen better days, slightly stained and frayed. I make a mental note to do better about keeping a few things company-ready.

It alarms me slightly to realize that I haven't had anyone over to my small apartment besides Caelan.

Not even Piper.

Some friend I am.

I pour a steady stream of hot tea into the sturdy ceramic mug, then pour myself a cup.

"Honey?" she asks, sniffling.

"Of course," I tell her. "I bought some the other day, it's from Willow's bees."

"W-w-willow makes the best hon-hon-honeeeeyyyyy." Her forehead thunks against the table, her shoulders shaking in despair.

Fenn puts his paws on the table, staring at the top of Piper's head in confusion, head tilted.

"Piper, tell me what's wrong or Fenn is going to start yowling, and trust me, you do not want that," I snap, my voice firmer than I meant.

Her shoulders still, and then she draws a shaking breath.

When she manages to sit up, Fenn yips at her, body completely stiff.

"The Duchess is coming, for the autumn f-f-f-festival," she sucks in a huge breath before continuing, fresh tears rolling down her ruddy cheeks.

"That's great," I say, my eyebrows rising. "That will be wonderful for the town, and hopefully bring us a lot of business and the opportunity to attract even more visitors?—"

"Everything has to be perfect," she screams.

Fenn raises his head and I sigh, burying my face in my hands as he takes up the cry, howling.

A fox howl, to be clear, is not a normal dog howl. Or a cat howl.

No, it sounds like someone is torturing and murdering a human. That is the sound a fox makes.

Unpleasant doesn't begin to cover it.

Unpleasantly demonic would be a closer description.

The silver lining, however, is that it seems to shock Piper out of her sobbing, and she sits up, staring at Fenn, who keeps screaming.

And screaming.

"Thank you, Fenn, that will be enough," I tell him crisply.

He snaps his mouth shut and circles around the table, nosing his way into Piper's lap.

"I left Velvet at home in her bed," she says. "I couldn't bear to wake her." Her trembling hands stroke Fenn's soft fur, and I push her mug of steaming tea closer.

"Honey," I say vaguely, then jump up and grab the speckled pot from Willow and drop the dipper in. Golden honey streams into her steaming mug and she wraps her hands around it as I dunk the dipper back in the pot.

"Thank you." Another sniff. "There's pastries in the basket?—"

"I thought you'd never offer," I say, ravenous as I flip over the pink-checked cloth and pull out a cheese Danish. "My favorite."

"It has a calming charm?—"

I don't hear whatever else she's going to tell me because that's all I need to hear. I shove one in her mouth, and her brown eyes go wide as she sputters, then chews.

My eyes narrow as I watch her swallow, her throat bobbing, and the effect is nearly as immediate as Fenn's horrible howl.

"Oh," she says on a sigh, slumping back in the chair. "That's better. Why didn't I think of that?"

"Probably because you were really upset," I tell her. I grab a cheese Danish for myself, eyeing it before taking a bite. "The cookie really did a number on me, by the way."

"I told you," she says, wiping her nose with a floral embroidered napkin that the brownie must have left last night. "You had to have already been very attracted to the person for it to have that effect." A sly smile curves her lips.

I roll my eyes but smile back at her. "You got me there." On impulse, I reach across the table and squeeze her hand. "Tell me what's wrong, Piper. Help me understand. You're my friend. My best friend. I don't know how to help you unless you let me." The admission makes me feel vulnerable, but I know it's the right thing to say.

Until her eyes fill up with fresh tears, and I feel mine do the same.

"I thought you said these were charmed for calm," I choke out through a teary laugh.

"They are, but now I'm weepy because that was sweet ."

I scoff but give her hand one last squeeze before topping off her mug of tea.

"Alright." She rolls her neck, then puts her shoulders back and looks me square in the eye. "The Duchess of Lantia, you know, the new one? No one's really met her before, right? She took up the title, and the whole thing was shrouded in mystery." She hiccups, then crams another bite of Danish into her mouth while I sip my tea, waiting. "She sent a letter, I saw it last night, and she said she's coming to Wild Oak Woods for her first tour of the Lantian countryside." Her words are tumbling out of her, frantic to get out.

"Take a bite," I command, pointing at the Danish in her hand.

She does as I say, her cheeks full as a late-summer chipmunk's. "So—" A spray of crumbs leaves her mouth, and I wonder if maybe her charms are too strong, because that sort of lack of manners is not like Piper at all.

"Ahem." She blots her mouth again. "We're in between town leaders. Apparently, Hash left last night, so the letter came to me after it couldn't be delivered to him because I've lived here the next longest. No Hash Beauchamp, just me, and who decided I was the one to be in charge of this? And I was up all night baking, and stressed, and planning." The last syllable wobbles, her lower lip shaky. "And now it's up," sniff , "to me," sniff , "to make it perfect."

"Oh," I say, crossing my arms over my chest and glaring at her. "It's all on you, huh?"

"Exactly," she agrees, pouting.

"So what are the rest of your coven? What are the rest of your friends, the rest of all the amazing people and witches and creatures here? Chopped liver?" I stare pointedly at my arm. "That doesn't look like chopped liver to me. That looks like a hand attached to an arm that's perfectly capable and willing to help."

"You'll help?"

I make a deeply offended noise, my fingers clutching at my collarbone. "Why do you say that all surprised? Of course I will help. And I guarantee most of Wild Oak Woods will, too. This isn't all on your shoulders, Piper."

A crash sounds from downstairs, and I stand up so fast my chair falls backwards.

"Piper?" a deep voice yells, and Piper's hand flutters over her mouth in response.

"Is that—" I whisper, slightly stunned.

"Ga'Rek? I'm up here," Piper yells back. "I'm okay, I'm talking to Wren."

Fenn starts his demonic yodeling again and I cringe, stuffing the rest of the Danish in my mouth. If my ears are going to hurt, I might as well be calm and sugared up.

I take several long swallows of the tea. And caffeinated.

My apartment door bursts open, and the massive warrior orc ducks his head to clear the jamb, his eyes wild. Fenn goes quiet. Thankfully.

Black hair sticks out every which way, and I stare at him for a long moment.

He rakes a hand through it again, and it's obvious what's caused it to stand on end.

"Hi," Piper tells him softly.

"You scared me to death," he booms.

Fenn yaps at him, but the orc doesn't even glance away from Piper's puffy face.

"Who did this to you?" he asks, crossing the room with thunderous footsteps, then kneeling at her feet.

I take a bite of the Danish, too riveted to look away.

Even kneeling, he's so massive that he's still at eye-level with petite Piper.

He frowns at her, his tusks enormous, then dabs at a lone tear on her chin. "Why are you crying? Are you hurt? Where is the fool who did this?"

"I'm worried about the autumn festival." Her voice is hesitant, her eyes wide and shining, and I take another bite of the Danish to keep from commenting on the obvious attraction between them.

Fenn, however, twitches his whiskers and turns to look at me meaningfully.

I dip my chin in agreement.

"What in the moon's name is going on up there? A damned party?" Caelan's voice drifts through the still open door, and Ga'Rek blinks and stands, then hits his head on my ceiling and decides to kneel again.

"We're up here," I call out needlessly, then stuff some more cheese Danish in my mouth.

Caelan strolls through the door, then pauses, stuffing his hands in his pants pockets as he takes in the scene before him.

Me with my face crammed full of pastry, the orc staring up at Piper with utmost devotion, and Piper, whose face is puffy and red from bawling.

"What in the?—"

"She's stressed because the Duchess of Lantia is coming to town for the autumn festival and she thinks it's all up to her to make sure it goes well." It comes out a garbled mess, and I choke on the flakey pastry, but can't quite bring myself to care, thanks to the charm.

Caelan races over and thumps my back and I cough, then swallow again.

He glares at me balefully. "You're having a breakfast party and you didn't invite me?"

"Oh, please," I tell him, then pull him down for a crumb-covered kiss that leaves me breathless. "I missed you."

"And I you. I came over with news to share, but it appears I've been upstaged yet again."

"It is not all on your shoulders, Piper," Ga'Rek tells her. I start to stand up to find him and Caelan a mug, and maybe some plates, but Caelan puts a heavy hand on my shoulder and presses another kiss against my temple.

He moves fluidly, so elegantly, to the kitchen, finding two teacups and four plates.

And just like that, it's clear to see.

We fit together, him and me.

That simple gesture, just getting the cups and plates out for my unexpected guests, and my heart warms, tears stinging my eyes.

There's no cookie or spell in the world that could have made him do that unless it was specifically crafted to do so.

Caelan did that all on his own.

He picks out a raspberry tart from the basket and puts it on a plate for me.

"Why?" I manage, though I'm not entirely sure what I'm asking.

"Just to see you smile, little golden witch."

He sinks into the chair next to me and reaches for my hand like it's the most natural thing in the whole world.

"So she's coming, and I'm the person who's lived here the longest, and it's up to me to make sure it goes off without a hitch. Everything has to be?—"

Ga'Rek brushes his calloused knuckles over her cheek and she blinks, her words lost to silence.

The raspberry tart crunches as Caelan takes a bite, and I bite my lips to keep from laughing.

"We will help you. Everyone will. I haven't lived here long, but I can tell this is a good place, full of good people who will want to help you, Piper."

"Better than a book," Caelan mutters, nudging me with his knee.

I clap a hand over my mouth, the urge to laugh stronger than ever.

"I'm sorry that you feel like this is all on you," Ga'Rek continues, completely focused on her, "but it's not. Not at all. Right, Wren?"

"Absolutely," I agree, nodding for emphasis.

"Where is the jeweler witch?" someone yells from outside.

Caelan casts me a dark look. "I would recognize that voice anywhere." He crosses over to the arched, stained glass window that looks out over the street as Ga'Rek continues to reassure Piper in hushed tones. "You've got an entire pack of dwarves out there," he tells me. "Do you want me to kill them?"

"What?" I explode, the tart forgotten. "Why would I want that?"

"Oh, I don't know, they're disturbing the peace. They could have woken you up." He looks outraged at the prospect.

I pinch the bridge of my nose. "That's not a reason to murder someone, Caelan."

He pouts. "Fine. Get dressed. I'll hold the wretches off."

"I was rude to them the last time they were here." I peek around his broad back, my cheek on his bicep. "I wonder what they want."

"Obviously, they want to work with you. You'll charge them triple," he demands.

"Oh, and who died and put you in charge?" I ask, poking him.

"Hash Beauchamp."

"He's dead?" Piper says, her voice hitting fever pitch again.

Fenn yowls.

The dwarves outside begin yelling and shoving each other.

"No, he's not dead, it's so much worse than that," Caelan announces with relish. "He was a Seelie fae the whole time. High court." He taps his chin. "Apparently, I signed the deed to the damned inn the moment I signed for the rooms we rented. Can you believe it?" He huffs in astonishment.

Outside, one of the dwarves lets out a ululating cry, brandishing an axe at another.

"I don't have time for their nonsense," I mutter, pushing past Caelan to the window. "Piper, come here, I'm no good at this kind of magic. I need your help."

"I knew I should have woken up Velvet," she says miserably.

"Stop, we have Fenn. And Caelan." I tilt my head at him. "You smell like magic," I say.

"Well, that's part of what I was going to tell you?—"

"Later," I interrupt, pointing at the dwarves, who are now chasing each other around with various frightening-looking weapons. "I cannot deal with a massacre outside my store before it's even open."

"Oh yes, it would be terrible were that to happen outside of business hours," Caelan snarks.

I take his hand firmly and reach out to Piper, already gathering the spell, the one my mother taught me when I was a little girl and I haven't had use for in many, many years.

Fenn bounds towards me, stretching up on his hind legs, his paws at my hip.

Piper takes my hand, the magic from the three beings I love most in the world funneling into me in a maelstrom.

Caelan's power is wondrous, and I marvel at it before the sound of shattering glass pulls my attention back to the pesky dwarves outside.

"Aquavitae, aquamarine," I pause, forgetting the spell. "Shit. Do the thing we did with the cats when I was a little bean." I close one eye, hoping that's close enough, feeling the magic surge out of me.

As one, the dwarves outside scream, stricken.

Instead of the water I tried to summon, a pile of what appears to be horse manure has plopped down in front of my store.

Caelan raises an elegant eyebrow at me, grinning fiercely. "Shit, eh?"

"It wasn't supposed to do that," I say glumly.

"I'm going to go get Nerissa." Piper sprints out of the apartment, Ga'Rek hot on her heels.

"Well, it did stop them from bludgeoning each other," Caelan drawls, scratching his jawline.

"I covered the street in shit," I say, gesturing wildly. "I'm not a nature witch, I enchant jewelry . What was I thinking?!"

Caelan purses his lips and one of the dwarves begins cursing wildly, loud enough to wake up the whole town.

I clap a hand over my mouth, but this time, it's not enough to stop the hysterical laughter from streaming out of it.