AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Yeah, on Fairway Avenue.”
“So, you must be the new owner who bought the place a couple of weeks ago?”
“That’s me.”
“My friend and I have been meaning to visit. The last owner was too shrewd to hire enough staff, so you would always have to wait hours to be served.”
“I have heard that the previous management left much to be desired,” he says. “We’re closed tonight, since it’s a Monday, but why don’t you stop by tomorrow and see what you think of the service under my management?”
His offer almost sounds like a business affair, but there’s an edge to his voice which suggests this is more than a friendly invite. Maybe I’m imagining that he’s flirting with me.
“Sure,” I say, even though tomorrow night will be the night before our second trial. “I would love to visit.”
We stand there awkwardly. Then I remember that I was asking about his cart.
“Do you need any help with your cart?”
His gaze sweeps across to it and lingers on the broken wheels. He doesn’t look as concerned as I expected him to be, and I’m relieved he isn’t too annoyed at the current state of his cart. And his wine, since most of the bottles are smashed.
“I can use my magic to help you bring it back to your tavern.”
“Are you sure?”
“It’s my fault they’re broken,” I reply. “It’s only right that I help you bring the unbroken ones safely back to The Old Dove.”
“It’s my fault for not swerving the cart away fast enough.”
“It’s hard to maneuver carts quickly, so you can hardly be blamed.”
“But—”
“Just let me help you.”
“All right,” he says. “If you insist.”
I step closer to the cart. “Ventrez.”
A wind spell rushes from my fingers. It blows the cart up from the street and hovers at shoulder height.
“Lead the way,” I say.
With a nod, he strides down the street. I follow, blowing the cart in front of me and taking care not to let any more bottles fall and smash.
On the next corner we pass a few people, but no one stops to gawk at our levitating cart. They mostly ignore it and continue their laughter as they stroll past. In a city full of magic, where the streetlights themselves are floating crystals, such a sight is unremarkable.
“You know,” I call over to the golden-haired stranger, “I don’t think I caught your name?”
His pace falters, and he falls into step beside me. “Nolan.” He holds out his hand, but I flash him a strained smile and gesture to the floating cart I’m focused on. He lowers his hand and hastily adds, “Nolan Elmsworth.”
“Well, it’s lovely to meet you, Nolan Elmsworth. Though I do wish it hadn’t been because I broke all your wine.”
“You didn’t break them all.” He points to the remaining bottles in the cart.
I breathe a laugh. “True enough.”
Nolan doesn’t ask for my name, but I decide to volunteer the information.
“I’m Reyna,” I say. “Reyna Ashbourne.”
