Page 176 of In Somnis

“Yeah?”

“I’ve been working here for two years.” She sets her tray down and looks me directly in the eye. “Nobody’s ever been excited about a sandwich before. But damn, that was exciting.”

“It’s the fig jam,” I tell her. “People don’t expect sweetness with savory. It surprises them.”

She considers this, then she picks up her tray again and says, “You should stay,” and is gone before I can work out exactly what she means.

The muffins come out golden and perfect. I set the tray on the cooling rack and try not to eat one immediately, which is always difficult.

I give myself exactly thirty seconds of standing over them before I turn away, wrap a few of the best sandwiches in cling film, and untie my apron.

Jasper is probably done with school around now, or close enough. And he has a terrible track record of eating, based on the fact that I’ve watched him live on coffee and ambient energy. His mom might be hungry too.

I pause at the thought of Seraphine, and my stomach does a little lurch. She scared the hell out of me. That’s still true. “Your time is up,” delivered with a smile, while holding the Death card is not an experience I’m going to forget in a hurry. if I’m being fully honest, she’s part of why I’m still a little jumpy around Jasper’s cards.

But also, if she hadn’t rattled me so thoroughly that morning, I would not have jerked back in time to make it a clip instead of something much worse. So, a thank-you sandwich seems like the least I can do, even if I’m still a little afraid of her.

I balance the plate on my palm and head through the inn. The back garden is quiet in the midday light. The big tree at the center still has its fairy lights wound up into the branches, and the cottage beyond it has its door propped open with what appears to be a ceramic frog.

Seraphine is kneeling in the garden bed along the front of the house, her long, gray hair loose over her shoulders, layers of fabric pooling around her in the dirt. Between her hands is a small gathering of herbs, and beside her, on the low stone step in front of the door, sits a woman I’ve never seen before.

She’s older. Gray locs pulled back in a bright yellow scarf, and she’s watching Seraphine with the settled quiet of someone who has done this exact watching for a very long time. It’s comfortable.

She looks up when she hears my approach.

“Hi,” I say, stopping at the edge of the garden and holding up the plate a little. “Sorry to interrupt. I had leftover sandwiches from lunch, and I thought, maybe you hadn’t eaten yet and wanted some?”

The woman on the step stands. She’s shorter than her presence suggested, but there’s a solidity to her that makes up for it. She looks at the plate, then at me, and her mouth pulls into a smile that manages to be both warm and a little bit sharp at the same time.

“So,” she says. “You’re the new cook everyone’s been talking about.”

I feel myself blush a little. “I don’t know about everyone.”

“I had a guest at my front desk this morning who used the word transcendent.”

I open my mouth. “About a sandwich?”

“About whatever you put in the yogurt at breakfast.” She holds out her hand. “I’m Mabel.”

Oh.

Oh.

“Lennon.” I shake her hand, properly thrown off. “Lennon Maes.” I manage a smile. “It’s nice to meet you. I’ve only heard good things about you.”

A pleased look moves across her face as she takes the plate from me.

“Come inside.” It’s not quite an invitation or an instruction. It just is. “Seraphine, there’s food.”

Seraphine sits back on her heels. Her hands are still loosely full of the herbs she’s been picking. Her eyes are clearer today. Not the way they went right before she scared me into a near-death experience, but present, the fog turned down low instead of all the way up.

“The new girl,” she says.

“That’s me.” I smile. “Lennon.”

Inside, the house smells the same as last time, with incense, dried herbs, and old wood.

Mabel leads us into the kitchen, sets the plate in the center of the table, and lifts the cling film with no ceremony. Seraphine comes in last, setting a small bundle of herbs on the table before washing her hands at the sink with careful, thorough attention.