“I love that idea,” Kiela said. Perhaps she could add a counter to the outside of the window. She wished Larran had left his hammer. Not that she knew how to make a counter, but how hard could it be? He had left some wood behind . . .
“So much beautiful jam,” Bryn said, examining the jars. “Eadie, look how they sparkle, packed with so many berries—you can see how rich they must taste.”
“I wanted to preserve the berries while they were at their peak ripeness,” Kiela said. “I plan to make other flavors soon, as well as experiment with adding various spices and herbs. I think cinnamon and cloves would work well with cherry, for example.”
Eadie snorted. “If you can find a healthy cherry tree, more power to you. Remember the lovely cherry tree beside my house, Bryn?”
“Yes, it used to sag with so much fruit the branches would touch the ground, and—”
“And we’d stuff our faces and spit out the seeds on Fenerer’s yard,” Eadie said. “Only when he wasn’t watching, of course. Such a wonderful tree. Joy and petty revenge in every branch.”
That was a perfect intro to their other offering . . .
Caz heard it too. He hopped off the counter and waddled himself into the shop. “To special customers, we’re also offering a special remedy that improves the health of trees.”
Both Bryn and Eadie looked at him.
Kiela held her breath—this was it, the moment that it could either all work or all fall apart. If they didn’t accept the fiction of a “remedy” . . .
“What sort of remedy?” Eadie asked.
“A family recipe,” Caz lied. Kiela felt her eyes go wide. Luckily, neither the baker nor the centaur was looking at her. He continued with blithe confidence. “Handed down through the generations, plant to plant.”
“Ooh,” Eadie said. “And it works?”
“Plants know what plants need,” he said in a lofty tone.
That was absolutely brilliant. Kiela wished she’d thought of it.Nice work, Caz.She ducked behind the shelves and pulled out one of the wrapped pine cones. “Simply bury it between the roots of the tree. Don’t delay, though, or it will lose its potency.”
Eadie accepted the package. “Just bury it? No . . . anything else?”
She guesses,Kiela thought. She hoped it wasn’t obvious the way her heart was hammering against her rib cage. She rubbed her suddenly sweaty palms on her shirt and wondered when it had become so hot in here. “That’s all.”
“And what do I owe you for this remedy?” Eadie asked.
She looked at Caz, who shrugged his leaves. “It’s the first one we’ve sold . . . How about this: try it, and if it works, then pay us what you think it’s worth to you?”
Eadie considered the wrapped pine cone, the sentient spider plant, and Kiela. “Fair enough,” she said. Beside her, Bryn was beaming at both of them.
Kiela felt the muscles in her shoulder unknot, though her heart continued to race. She smiled at the centaur.Our first sale.“Can I also interest you in some jam?”
“Absolutely,” Eadie said.
“I’d like a few jars as well,” Bryn said. “There’s a pastry recipe that would be perfect with it, spread with a layer of goat cheese, which adds the nicest flavor.”
Caz rustled his leaves and groaned, “Ugh, goats.”
As Kiela negotiated payment, Bryn launched into an anecdote about an overfriendly goat who loved to eat buttons—everyone who passed by had to watch their coats and their sweaters because he’d pluck off any button he could reach. Even Caz laughed as she described the lengths one islander went to to retrieve her buttons . . .
Chapter Fourteen
Kiela was reading another spellbook when their next customer arrived. She was so engrossed in the theories of the effects of enchantment on the taste of garlic, written by a scholar who was both a sorcerer and a cook at one of Alyssium’s top restaurants, that she didn’t hear the footsteps of the customer shuffling into the shop or his irritated “Is anyone here? What kind of shop doesn’t have a shopkeeper?” But shedidhear him shriek, “What isthat?”and the thump of soil hitting the wood floor. She burst out of the bedroom to see Caz racing out the back door to the safety of the garden.
She pivoted to chase after her friend. “Caz, are you—”
“Oughta have a warning on your shop, if you’re going to allow unnatural creatures in it,” their customer said. She turned back to see a man who looked familiar—where had she seen him before?Ah yes,she remembered,the unfriendly man by the bakery.He’d been playing a game with stones with Tobin. Standing, he was much larger than she’d thought he was the first time she’d seen him. The top of his bald head nearly brushed the rafters of the cottage shop, which made her feel as if he were looming over her. He had scales instead of skin and was wearing the beige work clothes of a dockworker.
“I’m sorry you were startled,” Kiela said, with a worried glance at the garden door, “though it seems you both startled each other.”
