25

Veril stirs a large pot hanging over the hot coals of his hearth, and the smell of meat, vegetables, and spices fills the room. “I apologize. I haven’t prepared typical breakfast foods. I do have eggs and potatoes, a small slab of bacon, crabapples, but that may take a moment—”

“No, this is fine,” I say, my mouth watering. “I don’t stand on ceremony when it comes to food, especially if someone’s prepared a meal as wonderful as this.” This. Generous chunks of beef, radishes, potatoes, and carrots in a sauce flecked with herbs. Fresh-baked bread with split tops. “And is that butter?” I ask, agog, pointing to the miniature cast-iron pot.

Veril tosses me a self-satisfied smile. “It certainly is. Smells heavenly. Wouldn’t you agree?” Veril fills a bowl, then plucks a slice of thick bread from the table and hands both to me.

I eagerly accept the bowl, inhaling deeply to savor the rich steam rising from the stew’s surface. “Why are you here, in the middle of nowhere?”

He hands me a spoon. “City life is loud and dirty. How can anyone abide it? Ugh . I must find my herbs in the forest, so here I stay.”

The stew has body—the peas aren’t completely mashed. “I taste onions, and I taste sugar, and I taste oil.” My taste buds tingle because I also taste pepper and saffron. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed pepper! And saffron ?”

“How do you know it’s saffron?” he asks.

“My village must have used it.”

“Hmm.” He taps his finger against his chin. “If you know that spice, then yes, they did. Most Vallendorians have never tasted saffron. It is very expensive—worth more than gold. Peria, in particular, on the southern side of Devour, the deadliest sea in Vallendor, grows the most saffron in Vallendor. Fields of saffron crocus as far as the eye can see, beautiful purple flowers with those beautiful crimson threads. If you can identify saffron, dearest, then I’d say that Peria is your home.”

Peria. “Hmm. I don’t remember it.”

“Mages settled there after being expelled from the Holy Kingdom of Dorwinthe,” Veril says. “They took their totems of Kaivara and seeds of saffron crocus with them and settled in Peria, thriving there for ages. Each mage dedicated the totality of their powers to create a barrier of protection. But that barrier is losing its fortitude—there are some younger mages who have deserted Peria for adventure or to serve Wake. Cracks in the barrier mean the barrier will not hold, which means…”

He sighs. “Well, we know what it means. Let us all hope, though, Peria pulls back from its destruction. Some of the best magic has come from that part of the realm—and definitely the best saffron.”

If you can identify saffron, dearest, then I’d say that Peria is your home . I tear off a piece of bread. Peria … on the southern side of Devour, the deadliest sea in Vallendor. I dip a hunk of bread into the stew. Well, then, that’s where I’ll head after healing.

Spirit lifted, I close my eyes as the combined foods melt in my mouth. “This is beyond delicious.”

Veril steeples his hands and presses them to his lips. “Well, thank you. I work very hard to make something out of nothing. That is an unspoken power of the Renrian, a passive skill, one would say.” He dips the ladle into a smaller pot hanging over the glowing orange logs and pours liquid into a mug. “It just so happens that the leaves in this tea are known for clearing one’s mind, Just Kai. And if it’s not enough, then there are stronger tea leaves in one of these jars. So tell me: What else have you forgotten?”

I laugh and take the mug. “How much time do you have?”

“No, dearest…” He doesn’t laugh. “How much time do you have?”