Chapter 4

Katie

Banjo was raring to go the moment I opened the front door. He loved being outside no matter the weather. Though luckily for me, the frosts Naida had predicted had already passed. I was sure they'd be back, the winter season was far from over, but I was glad to have a break from them for now.

I made my way down the path, slightly surprised to find Brew waiting for me at the start of my patrol route, even if I'd known to expect him.

He was leaning against a fence while three women stood a little closer than necessary, especially when one of them was old enough to be his mother, and they were definitely flirting with him while he was being his normal charming self. I couldn't blame them. Even if I'd never go there with Rooibos Brewster, there was no denying that he was one of the most eligible bachelors in Purple Oak. It was hard to think of anyone who would beat him. Though I suppose Oliver would be up there, as would Grey Steeper. And maybe Brew's younger brother, but Earl was barely twenty-two and had all of his adolescent awkwardness still.

I looked Brew up and down. I supposed it wasn't entirely unwarranted. He was tall, handsome, and from a wealthy family. He was a catch to anyone who hadn't known him for two decades. All I could see was the boy who used to pee in the stream or cry when the chickens came too close. Not exactly swoonworthy material.

He noticed me but didn't come over right away. Banjo didn't care and raced towards him, pushing his way in between the women so he could say hello to everyone, though he was mostly after the attention of the tea witch who was supposed to be meeting me.

The women fawned over my dog who lapped up the attention almost as much as Brew had, his tail wagging so fast I worried he was going to damage it. Brew finished whatever story he was telling that was making the women giggle and they left, practically floating away on pink clouds.

I rolled my eyes. It was classic Brew. He never took anything seriously.

He skipped the last bit and gave me a goofy grin. "Hello, Katie."

"Hi, Brew."

"Ah, how glad I am to hear you say that." He rubbed his ear. "Everyone else is just Rooibos, Rooibos, Rooibos ."

I couldn't help but smile. "If it annoys you that much, maybe I should start calling you Rooibos too."

"Please don't. It's a stupid name." He pointed a finger at my face. "Don't tell my mum I said that."

"Never," I promised, knowing full well that Mrs Brewster was just as fierce as she was kind. And she was certainly fierce when it came to her children's names. Jasmine and Earl had gotten lucky, Brew and Cami not so much.

Brew gave me a relieved smile and fell into step beside me as I started my patrol around the farm that had been in my family for generations. He knew them as well as I did, considering he grew up a stone's throw away from here.

There hadn't been as many people here then. Just a couple of streets with the basics, but people had started straggling in about fifteen years ago, and there'd been a surge of new inhabitants in the last couple of years. I wasn't entirely sure why, but so long as Purple Oak thrived, it wasn't really an issue. Even if it meant more patrol.

"Did you hear the Millers had their baby?" I asked.

"I didn't," he said. "What have they called them?"

"Firtan. Healthy baby boy. Naida told me when she came to pick up the wheat last night."

"I'll make sure Mum knows, she'll want to send a gift. And probably send Reese over to check everyone's healthy."

"I thought it was Zoe who wanted to specialise in midwifery?" I asked, hoping I'd gotten his cousins straight. I didn't know them as well as I knew the main Brewster clan, they'd only moved here about five years ago with their parents.

"She is, but she's still away."

"Ah." Now he mentioned it, I dimly remembered a meeting where Zoe had volunteered to negotiate a treaty with the Spire.

"So I'm told you're hosting a ward ceremony?" Brew asked, pausing to wave at someone passing.

"You're told correctly," I said.

He folded his hands behind his head which made him look even more carefree, especially considering he wasn't wearing a proper coat. Instead, he was out and about in a thin cardigan with short sleeves that did nothing to hide his muscled arms.

“Why are you wearing so little clothing?” I asked.

He flashed me a grin. “Are you checking me out? Do you like it?”

“No, I'm asking if you’re an idiot."

"That's not nice," he teased.

"Neither is going out in the middle of winter without a coat. Aren't you cold?"

“I’m not. Don’t you know I run hot?”

I rolled my eyes at his poor flirting attempt. “You don't. I remember winters at the Brewster Hall. You and Jasmine were always complaining that you were freezing.”

“I forgot you knew that.” Brew kicked a little rock out of the way. “I gave my coat to a young boy earlier today. He came into the infirmary with hypothermia because he’d been sleeping out in the cold without any real shelter. I wanted to do more for him but I didn't really know how. So I gave him my coat.”

“Oh." A wave of affection travelled through me. He was more than just a terrible flirt, and I knew that. "That was very nice of you.” And now I felt bad for teasing him about it.

He hummed, his usual bravado gone. “I know Purple Oak is thriving but there are still people here that are barely surviving. We need to work a lot harder to make this a safe place for everyone.”

A smile came to my lips. It was rare to catch Brew in a serious mood because he was always kidding around. He did such a good job at being a joker, it was easy to forget he had a heart of gold.

“Shall I tell you about the ward ceremony and how it'll make our oasis a better place?” I said, hoping the change in topic would cheer him up.

He watched Banjo playing up ahead with a thoughtful expression on his face. “Yes, please.”

"There are a lot of wards here that don't have proper tattoos." I shrugged my jacket partially off so I could show him the ward tattoo of Banjo, not that he hadn't seen it before. It was a miniature version of the border collie and it reacted to my touch, sitting up and cocking his head to the side in exactly the same way as the real one.

Brew's smile softened his features. "I've always loved seeing your tattoos."

Heat rushed to my cheeks. "W-What?"

"I just love the way they move. Back when we were younger and I didn't fully understand how we were so different, I used to pester Oliver to give me one too," he said, chuckling. "Especially when our cat died. I thought it was unfair that you and Oliver got to keep your pets with you while I had to say goodbye. So yeah, I love ward tattoos."

Oh, that meant he wasn't talking specifically about mine. That made more sense.

I pulled my jacket back on. "Well, I'm lucky that I have a really detailed tattoo that's bound to Banjo. When he passes on, I'll always have a part of him on me. Other wards aren't so lucky and have to make do with pawprints or just simple tally marks. And there are a lot of youngsters who don't even have their first tattoo."

"And that's a problem?" Brew asked. He didn't sound judgmental, just curious. Which was fair. Everything I knew about tea witches and how his magic worked came from what Brew and his siblings had told me, I imagined it was the same for him with wards and how our magic worked.

"It creates tension between wards. There's a sense of superiority in the settlement at the moment which is affecting everyone's ability to work together. There simply aren't enough tattoo artists in the hub to keep up with the demand." I spotted a fence panel that looked worse for wear and gave it a good jiggle. It was loose and looked like it could give in entirely with one well-placed kick from the goats within. "Oh, this is going to need repairing."

Brew gave it a shake of his own. "Yeah, unless we want to be responsible for the first great goat disaster."

"The first great goat disaster?"

"Yes! Goats everywhere! Stealing food, nibbling on people's clothes, eating people's hair," he joked. "Goats can be a menace."

The image made me laugh and I gave Brew a good-natured pat. "Let's not inflict that on the good people of Purple Oak."

His grin made his eyes crinkle. "Boring."

"Isn't it our job to be boring and protect the people who live here?" I asked as I pulled out a handful of nails.

"Yes," he responded quietly, almost as if he didn't want me to hear him admit it.

"Hold these, please?"

He opened his palm and let me drop the nails onto it. I grabbed the hammer from my bag and turned my attention to the fence post. It didn't take long for the two of us to get the slats firmly back in place. I gave the whole post a jiggle just to check that it wasn't going to move and stepped back to admire my handiwork.

"That's not going anywhere," I said, proud of the result.

He gave it a pat. "Nice work."

"You're a good assistant."

"Always happy to help." He gave me a soft smile. "I like it when you rely on me."

There was something strangely tender in the way he was looking at me and it was making my chest tight. It wasn't an unfamiliar feeling, I knew what it felt like to be flustered because of a cute guy, it just hadn't happened with Brew before.

I quickly looked away. I refused to become one of those giggly women falling for the Rooibos charm.

We set back in motion and I was grateful for Banjo's presence. He barked at some of the curious goats, almost slipped on a patch of frost, and entertained us with some demanding tail wagging.

Brew conjured a piece of dried meat from his pocket which he dangled in front of Banjo. I didn't know why he had so much snacking meat on him, especially because I'd never seen him eat it. My dog didn't ask any questions though and just pushed his snout into Brew's hand for a treat.

There was something about the way he gave it to Banjo that made my heart flutter. I didn't see him interact with very many familiars, but there was no doubt he was good with them. Or maybe he was just good with Banjo because he'd known the dog since he was a puppy and I'd proudly carried him over to Brewster Hall to show him off as my new familiar.

Brew ruffled the top of Banjo's head before my dog raced off ahead.

"So, the ward ceremony?" Brew prompted.

"Right." I tore my gaze away from him and focused on the path. "I was chatting with my friend Carly, she and her dad are tattoo artists. They said they would like to do more ward tattoos but it's very time-consuming and they can't keep up with the influx of wards coming to the hub. There are talks of training more apprentices but for that, they would need support from the families."

Brew hummed. "Funds or space?"

"Both. They'll need a building to teach, and funds to afford time and loss of clients. In the short term, they'll be able to do fewer tattoos but once the apprentices are adequate, they'll be able to do their part."

"So you want to start a school?"

I nodded. "I suppose so, yes. You train people at the infirmary, don't you? So I thought you would be the right person to talk to."

"We do. Reese is the teacher in the family, but I helped work out the practicalities." He skipped ahead so he could bow down to me. "I would be honoured to help, my lady."

Banjo barked at him and I snorted. He was so goofy and despite his attempt at charming me, it did nothing for me which was a relief.

Brew was just Brew.