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“We harvest the black tea,” he said, “and let it dry in a room heated with fire until the leaves are withered. Then we grind them, and the leaves ferment in the juices released and turn their brilliant coppery color.”
I could tell by the way he spoke lovingly of the process that farming the tea was deeply rooted in his blood, the way apples, orchards, and harvesting were in mine.
“The final stage is drying them again,” he added, “which turns them black. It’s a bit complicated, and if one stage is messed up, it ruins the whole tea.”
My father had had exactly the same attitude and had been quite particular about getting his product right and delivering quality to his customers, maintaining our family’s good name. If an apple had discoloration or dents in it, he refused to sell it. He left it for the animals to eat or the workers to take home to use in their baking.
“How do you add the flavors?” I asked, recalling a better time when I’d enjoyed a brew with Shadow back at his plantation.
“That’s the easy part,” he said. “We add herbs like vanilla or cinnamon into barrels and let it cure until the flavors have blended.”
“I wish you had tried my new fruit blend,” he continued. “I’d been developing it for months. It had citrus, cinnamon, and berries.”
Pain tore through my heart at the crack in his voice. All the work he’d put into his new blend, only to have everything—his home, his good fortune, his life’s work—stripped from him.
“Fruity blend?” Flare said. “You sure you like women?”
“Fuck off, Flare,” Shadow growled.
I laughed into my hand, just as Grimm entered the cell compartment with another man, whom I assumed to be the watchmaker.
“I thought I told you to stay away, Snow,” Grimm said, his gruff words piercing and direct.
“I’m maintaining a safe distance,” I replied, throwing my arms forward to show him we were three cells apart to prevent the collars from turning the panthers into berserk and uncontrollable hunters.
Grimm gave me that look, the one with the crooked eyebrows that told me we’d be having words later, and I folded my arms.
“Thank you for coming, sir,” I said, welcoming the watchmaker with a bow. “The panthers await your assistance.”
The watchmaker tipped his hat at me and passed me to reach the occupied cell.
Grimm nodded at one of the guards, and they unlocked the cell closest to me, the door swinging open. Then the guard grabbed me by the arm and dragged me into the cell.
“What are you doing?” I cried.
The guard shoved me aside, stalked out, and slammed the door closed, locking me in there.
That familiar claustrophobic feeling swept over me. The racing pulse, pounding heart, heaving chest, and rising panic at my confinement.
“It’s for your own good,” Grimm said, three of his faces twirling in front of the bars. “for which you clearly have no regard.”
“Let me out,” I moaned, squeezing the bars until my knuckles turned white.
Grimm turned to the guard. “Keep her locked up until the watchmaker finishes conducting his business.”
Sea God, he was such a stickler for the rules! I smashed a fist against the bar. Pain spiked on the side of my hand, and I rubbed it.
“Feisty.” Flare rubbed his hands, his eyes blazing green with enjoyment.
“Prick,” I said, sliding to my shins, watching the other guard let the watchmaker into the panthers’ shared cell.
Flare’s gaze remained on me—intent, alert, and ready to pounce. Did he enjoy trying to intimidate me? Being an absolute ass? Well, he wasn’t getting any reaction from me, and instead of acting pissed, I blew him a kiss. My action left him frowning, hopefully with disappointment that he hadn’t gotten a rise out of me.
To inspect Shadow’s collar, the watchmaker flipped down a panel on his special spectacles and activated the glowing crystal torch atop them. For a few moments, he hummed and murmured under his breath, examining the shell. Then he removed two instruments from his pouch and inserted them into the small hole on the edge of the collar. Carefully, he twisted them, and something inside the collar clicked. An eerie, dark light emanated from Shadow’s collar. Somehow, the band where the runes were located began to spin, making a loud whizzing noise.
“What the fuck’s happening?” Shadow said, his eyes wild, probably frustrated he couldn’t see what was happening on his own neck.
Flare’s eyes rounded, and he backed away.
