AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“That’s very sweet of you,” I said, smiling up at him. “Thank you so much.”
“Great!” His smile widened as he looked down at me. “I’ll drop it by later on today.”
“I’ll see you then.”
For a moment I almost hoped that he might kiss me. He was leaning down to get closer and I was practically on my tiptoes. I had never felt so much attraction so quickly to anyone before. It was surprising and almost intoxicating how much I wanted to kiss him.
But then a centaur trotted by, swishing his tail, and waved at him. Rath straightened up quickly.
“Er, I’ll see you later,” he said again.
“See you.” I nodded and turned towards home.
But I was sure I could feel his golden eyes on me with every step I took and I couldn’t wait to see him again.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Just as Rath had promised, my groceries were waiting on the front porch. So was Sebastian for that matter. He mewed inquiringly as I opened the front door.
“I know I took a little longer than I thought,” I told him. “But I met some really interesting people. And one of them happens to be the Orc that chased us yesterday,” I added, not wanting him to be surprised when Rath showed up with the cinnamon.
Sebastian made a hissing sound and arched his back, clearly showing his disapproval.
“I know, I know—but he’s really a nice guy,” I told him. “He was just protecting the house, that’s all. He thought we were intruders.”
Sebastian made a miffed sounding “Mmmroowf,” but followed me into the house anyway.
I put the box of groceries on the kitchen table and started unpacking. I couldn’t help noticing there were a few items I hadn’t picked out—had Rath added them? There was a package of the fancy, shiny sanding sugar—the kind I remembered my Grandma sprinkling on her pies and sugar cookies, a nice bottle of red wine, and a package of cat treats for Sebastian.
“Wow, look what our new friend got you—Rath picked these out—not me,” I told him as I fed him a few. He looked a little less disgruntled after that and wandered off to take a nap in a warm patch of sunshine coming through the window in the dining room.
I put away the groceries and made sure to chill the wine, then I looked around for something else to do. I could start on the pie, I supposed. It was going to take a while to peel, core, and chop all those apples. But first I needed to get my Grandma’s Grimoire so I could be sure I followed the recipe exactly.
Back upstairs, I noticed that the mysterious extra door that had appeared last night after my bath was now gone. Was it some kind of portal that only made an appearance at a certain time of day?
The thought gave me the shivers and I pushed it aside. Probably I had just imagined the door—or dreamed it and then thought it was a memory. Either way, it didn’t matter now.
I went into my room and put on my baking clothes—a pair of yoga pants and a baggy old t-shirt I didn’t mind getting all floury. I put my long hair up into a high ponytail and slipped on a pair of warm, wooly socks to keep my toes from freezing on the kitchen’s linoleum floor.
Then I went across to the library. I didn’t like to bring the whole Grimoire downstairs—I didn’t want to risk getting it dirty. When I start baking, things get messy.
So instead of taking the whole book, I snapped some pictures of the recipe with my phone. After a moment’s thought, I took a picture of the Valerian tincture recipe as well. If it was meant to “loosen the tongue and gladden the heart” maybe it would help to start unbinding my magic—if I actually had any, that was.
It was weird to think that I might have magic—and that I came from a family of witches. But then again, it was weird that I’d walked through a magic doorway and found myself in my Grandma’s house that I had completely forgotten about for years too. So I wasn’t going to write off the idea that I might have powers until I at least tried to find them.
And even if I didn’t have powers, if I could find some way to cure myself of my Selective Mutism, wouldn’t that be amazing? Maybe I could live a more normal life and be less of a shut-in if I could actually talk to people when I went out.
I remembered the easy way Rath had spoken to the waitress at the diner and how he’d waved at various people around the town. He was clearly a natural extrovert—I envied that about him. I wanted to be able to talk to people without the words sticking in my throat like a lump of indigestible food.
“Well, maybe this tincture stuff will help me do that,” I muttered to myself.
Going down to the greenhouse room, I went down the list of ingredients, carefully gathering what I needed from the various plants and jars. By the time I was done, I had an armful of things which I brought to the kitchen table to carefully sort out.
I made the tincture first but I didn’t try it right away. The recipe said to let it steep for at least an hour, so I put it on the back of the stove, covered it and left it to steep.
Next, I made my piecrust. I’d put my butter in the freezer the minute I got in the door, so it was nice and cold by now. I had put my flour in the fridge as well—the secret to good piecrust is getting all your ingredients as cold as possible.
Next, I got a big glass of ice water and set it to one side while I started cutting the frozen butter into the cold flour. When I had it to just the right consistency, I began mixing in the ice water, a little at a time.
