Page 16 of Ozma

This part of Loland was much different than the stories she’d heard from Jack. He’d thought it drab, but perhaps that was because he’d seen it so many times and she hadn’t. Even though he’d been compelled, he had still seen some of the world.

“You really were telling the truth about being hidden away,” Jack said, his voice soft.

Had he truly not believed the story she’d just told him? She peered at him, his hazel irises shining, a glimpse of a smile forming on his lips, the first she’d seen from him since she’d been back.

Her annoyance vanished and she mirrored his smile. “I told you I was.”

“Yes, youtoldme.” Jack adjusted the crate as they passed a group of laughing fae. “But now I see it, Blossom. The way the world is dancing in your eyes.”

She shrugged, not sure of what else to say.

A sweet scent hit her nose, and a large grassy area covered in wagons and carts caught her attention. Merchants chatting, customers purchasing what they needed.

As she passed the sellers, she observed each item they had. One fae stitched a cotton dress while another rolled a spool of spider silk. Sugary pastries, buttery rolls, meats, fruits, glass figurines, sapphire rings, ruby necklaces, tools, jeweled swords. So much, and too much—she wanted to run her fingertips acrosseverything.

Jack grasped her by the shoulders and turned her in a different direction. “This way, Blossom. We want to make coin sometime today. Not tomorrow.”

Ozma rolled her eyes and followed him down a lopsided path. “Why haven’t you left the patch for good since the barrier is gone?”

“I’m saving up.” He bit his lip. “Actually, it’s not just that. I’ve practically been there my whole life. Tip and I always wanted to leave but now that I can… It sounds strange but I don’t know, maybe it’s the nostalgia. The pumpkins are all I know.”

The past conversations between Tip and Jack came to her mind—the wishes, the dreams, and the death of those things. But she could relate to Jack on that level. It was all Jack had ever known, but he couldn’t stay there forever. “Seeds, Jack.Seeds. Take them and run before Mombi returns and the barrier goes back up.”

Before he could answer, a merchant called his name. “Jack! Hurry. I just sold the last pumpkin and had to send two customers away. My other items don’t sell as fast.” The centaur’s arms were covered in beaded bracelets and golden loops decorated his ears. Dark green hair was braided down his back and his yellow gaze focused on Ozma, scanning her up and down. “Who’s this?”

“His lover,” Ozma rushed out. He wouldn’t recognize her name, but that didn’t mean it couldn’t somehow get to the Wizard or Mombi before she had a chance to end them. She needed the element of surprise if she had any hope of succeeding.

Jack wrinkled his nose, looking at her strangely and then must have decided to take pity on her because he answered nonchalantly, “This is Blossom. And no, you can’t have her. I don’t share.” One of his long fingers trailed down her arm and she suppressed a shiver.

“A beautiful blossom indeed.” The centaur grinned, then motioned to the baskets of oranges behind him, propped on a small table. “You want to buy any? Half price today.”

“You mean every day. But no.” Jack set his crate on the ground beside the centaur and unloaded the pumpkins into empty buckets in front of the wagon.

Ozma did the same with her cart as the centaur fished out a handful of coins and handed them to Jack.

He told the centaur he’d see him later, then pocketed the coins and placed the crate in the basket before pulling it along.

Ozma rushed up to him. “You didn’t let me look around.”

“That’s because the bastard tries to get you to buy goods so he doesn’t have to pay for the pumpkins. But we can look around if you want.”

“No, perhaps another time.” She needed to focus on getting back and doing the location spell anyway.

As they rounded a wagon with a brownie inside playing a flute and selling glass chimes, thunder boomed from the sky. Within moments, the rain started to pour, soaking them from head to toe.

“Told you it would rain,” Ozma said, liking the feel of the light pellets against her skin. Even in the patch, she and Jack would work during storms. Mombi had made them, but Ozma never minded.

“Have you not seen that either?” He side-eyed her, running a finger across his well-formed lips.

“Of course I have!” The last time had been them naked together in the rain. And that had happened time and time again.

They stayed in comfortable silence, the only sound coming from the rain and tiny creatures scurrying for shelter, until they reached Jack’s hut. The sky cleared as soon as they got to the entrance, as if by magic. He left the cart outside and pulled open the door for Ozma.

Beads of water slid down Jack’s face and neck as he grabbed a bottle of homemade pumpkin ale from the table. He took a deep swig, not looking at Ozma. “Want some?” he asked.

She’d never drank alcohol before. Only pumpkin cider or water, but it was time for her to try new things. With a nod, she grabbed the bottle and took a long drink. A burning heat lit up her tongue and throat, causing her to cough. “Maybe not,” she rasped, shoving the bottle back to him.

“Ah, not a fan, huh?” Jack smiled, and it dropped almost as quickly as it appeared. Clearing his throat, he stepped toward the door. “I’m going to gather more pumpkins to bring to the market later. You can come if you want.”

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