“Just some visitors.” Xavier grinned cheekily and sat back down on the bench in his boat, lacing his fingers together behind his neck. “I’ll leave you to it.”
“Those will kill you.” Disapproval echoed in Michael’s voice.
“Thanks, Mom.” Xavier gave him a beatific smile and took a drag.
The sound of chickens squawking from the back made Cordelia stand up straight, her little e
yes bright. I’m going to go pay them a visit.
“Don’t eat them,” I said.
Sure, sure. She scampered off, moving quickly around the cottage to the back.
“They can handle themselves against the likes of her.” Michael looked between the two of us. “If you’re here, then you know who I am. Who are you?”
“I’m Eve,” my companion said.
His brows went up as if he recognized the name, and his gaze flicked to Xavier, who still sat behind us. “Nice to meet you, Eve.”
“And I’m Carrow,” I offered.
“Ah, Carrow. The new girl in Guild City?” The words held no hint of dislike. I was impressed. Clearly, he didn’t hold a grudge about not living there or being in a guild.
If they booted me, I doubted I’d be able to say the same.
I nodded. “Yeah. That’s me.”
“Why don’t you come in?” Without waiting for an answer, he turned and strolled into his house.
We followed, leaving Xavier outside.
The interior was far larger than the exterior made it look, with ancient stone walls and a gleaming wooden floor. The main entry room was sparsely decorated, but he led us to a cozy kitchen at the back. A fire burned on the hearth, and herbs hung from the ceiling, drying in the warmth.
It was a cluttered, homey space, with bottles of ingredients lying next to bread and fruit—as if he mixed work and life seamlessly.
“Cup of tea?” he asked.
We were in a hurry, but it would be downright rude to say no. And my bones were cold from the ride over. “That’d be lovely, thanks.”
He nodded and put the kettle on. It boiled almost instantaneously, and I grinned. “Is that magic that makes it go so fast?”
“Best spell I ever learned.” He removed the kettle and made the tea, then brought the mugs over to the table.
The surface was covered with the tools of his trade—everything from silver knives to powdered leaves—and he nodded at the clutter. “Shove some of that over, will you?”
“Sure thing.” Gingerly, I arranged things out of the way, not sure what was dangerous or valuable.
Eve helped, moving more quickly, clearly more comfortable with the items on the table.
Michael put the cups down and sat, and we joined him.
“What is it that you need?” he asked.
“We need some Powderwort,” Eve said. “And as far as I know, you’re the best place to get it in town.”
“The only place.”
“That, too.” She sipped her tea. “Oh, this is good.”