I sort through the drawer, slightly overwhelmed by the tea paraphernalia. Several of the infusers are shaped like steel mesh cups, almost as large as a mug. They have a wide rim that I’m assuming holds them in place while the tea is brewing. Others are round mesh balls with a handle. One is shaped like a mouse, and another is a heart. Some have chains. Some don’t even make sense.
“Has the shop been closed since my aunt passed away?” I ask as I shuffle through the drawer. “Did anyone work for her?”
“Yes, it’s been closed, and no, she didn’t have any employees. Laverna hired a high school student over a decade ago, but he quit when he left for college. After that, she managed well enough on her own.”
I pick two infusers that look like mesh cups. At least I understand how they work.
“I’m supposed to run it for three years,” I tell him. “That’s the time that was stipulated in the will. Only after that will her entire estate be transferred to me. For now, I get a monthly allowance.”
“And how long did she specify you were to put up with me?”
I smile as I find something that might be the tea he requested. “Indefinitely, though I imagine I’ll outlive you. You’re quite old, aren’t you? And owls have short lifespans. Consideringall that, I’m only estimating we’ll be together for three or four years.”
Rowan sputters, his feathers ruffling again.
“It’s not my fault creatures age,” I tease, attempting to keep my tone neutral as I search for a tea I recognize and might want to drink. “Perhaps if I had something other than cute and worthless magic, I could delay the process.”
He’s so quiet, I’m worried I actually offended him. I turn, preparing to apologize, and find him looking at me rather intently.
“What is it?” I ask.
“Maybe you can help me.”
“There’s not a fae or mage alive who can stop the march of time.”
“No, not with that. Perhaps you can turn me back into my normal self.”
“How am I supposed to do that?” I ask. “Say, is there any English breakfast in here?”
“Keep digging,” he answers. “And I don’t know. Laverna never let me experiment with her magic.”
“And you think I will?”
“You seem like a nice girl.”
“Now you’re just sucking up.”
Rowan ruffles his feathers, looking irked again. He’s certainly a prickly thing.
The teapot whistles while I’m sorting through Laverna’s collection, making me jump. Once I compose myself, I hurry to turn off the burner. “I’ve never seen a whistling kettle before.”
“How do you heat water for tea?”
“We had one of those single-pod coffee brewer things.”
He hisses as if disgusted, this time making the sound out loud.
“Or I’d use the microwave.” I pause, looking around. “Where is the microwave?”
“Laverna didn’t have one. How old are you?” Rowan asks, his voice full of disdain.
“Twenty-six.” I peer at him as I spoon tea into the infusers. “How old are you?”
He doesn’t answer right away. “I’ve lost count.”
“How old were you when you turned yourself into an owl?”
“Twenty-three.” His voice is curt, but I hear the regret there—the anger, irritation, and misery.
