Page 15 of Tusks, Tails & Teacakes
“I didn’t think I’d have company today,” Iris said before a flock of tiny, winged creatures emerged from within the shelves and started fluttering overhead.
Lira laughed as she watched the iridescent wings flash shades of green and pink as some soared back to their cage and others continued to dart from shelf to shelf.
Iris shook her head, but her smile was pleased. “They remember you.”
“I’d hope so.” Lira held up a finger so one of the bookwyrms could land on it. “I used to sneak them enough of my cookies.”
Iris snorted a laugh but wagged a finger at the tiny creature perched on Lira’s finger that looked like a cross between a baby dragon and a hummingbird. “If they get too fat they won’t be able to fly to the top shelves.”
“Then maybe someone shouldn’t leave her breakfast out.”
Iris slid her gaze to Lira, her eyes flashing amusement and then softening as she watched the bookwyrm nuzzle Lira’s hand. “You’ve been missed, love.”
Lira focused on the creature balanced on her finger to keep tears from springing to her eyes. She’d kept herself busy pulling off heistsand quests so she wouldn’t have time to miss the village, her friends here, the bookwyrms she’d adored as a child, her gran. But it hadn’t taken long for her to remember all the things she’d tried to forget.
“The shop looks like it’s doing well.” She managed a smile as she wiggled her finger. “These little guys seem to be doing their job of keeping your books clean—if not organized.”
Iris sighed. “Bookwyrms eat dust, they don’t alphabetize.”
Lira didn’t remind the woman that the bookwyrms only existed in her backroom because they were the result of an experiment gone wrong. Luckily, the errant magic had created creatures with an innate appetite for dust and the ability to nibble it from the spines and pages of books without doing any damage. As far as Lira knew, Iris hadn’t tried any magic spells since.
Iris left Lira as the bookwyrms started to land on her shoulders, slipping through an archway leading even farther back that wasn’t covered with a curtain. “Good, the tea is still hot.” She returned holding a copper kettle and pulled two floral teacups from a shelf. She poured steaming liquid into them and rested the kettle on a trivet waiting on the wood table. “Now where did the cookie tin go?”
Lira lowered her hand so the bookwyrm could hop off it and onto a pile of books. Then she picked up one of the teacups and blew on the steaming surface. “If I gave you a list of ingredients, could you make me a blend?”
Iris cocked her head. “A potion or a poultice?”
“A tea.”
The older woman glanced at her own cup. “A tea?”
“I drank a tea blend when I was in The Wild Reach called chai.” Lira shivered as she thought of the desolate lands that flanked a stormy cove called Siren’s Refuge, but warmth suffused her as she remembered the spicy, milky tea that the gnomes had offered them.
“Does it have powers?”
“Not beyond warming you from tip to tail.”
Iris twisted a curl around one finger. “Give me your list, and I’ll find what you need.”
Lira took a sip of her tea, the drink comforting, even if it was bland. “I take it your cures are still evading the notice of anyone who might object to the use of magic?”
Iris sniffed at this. “My cures aren’t potions, even if they are impressively effective. Anyway, magic isn’t outlawed.”
Of course, it couldn’t be, since some creatures naturally possessed elemental magic. Like elves, Lira thought even as she tried not to feel bitter that her elf blood wasn’t enough to give her powers. Powers that would have been helpful many times over the years.
“Teaching it is, though,” Lira reminded her. That was why the magical guilds had been disbanded and spell books had slipped into legend. The lairds of The Known Lands had feared the growing spread of dark magic among the mages and the potential of the magical guilds to wield more power than them. In a single proclamation, they’d disbanded the guilds, outlawed the teaching of magic, and confiscated every spell book they could find. Old mages laid low and new mages could not be trained, so their kind became as rare as the enchanted stones they’d used and potions they’d concocted.
But, as with everything forbidden, it could not be snuffed out. It only became shrouded in more secrecy, its practice the stuff of whispers and rumors. Lira glanced around her. Or back rooms.
Iris stiffened, straightening so that she looked even taller than she was. “What I taught you wasn’t magic, either. It was practical.” She cut a glance toward the bookwyrm cage. “Besides, I had to teach you better technique after I caught you trying to pick the lock and let them out.”
Lira remembered that. She also remembered the hours she’d spent with Iris learning to pick locks, disarm traps, and even throw daggers. “Why did my gran let you do it?”
This flustered the woman, and she clattered her teacup onto the table. “I was her dearest friend. She knew I only wanted the best for you.” She paused, not meeting Lira’s gaze. “And she knew you would never want to run a farm like she did. Not when you were…”
“Part elf,” Lira finished for her.
Iris raised her head defiantly. “Your gran knew you were special, and not only because your father was an elf.”
