Page 212 of A Sanctuary from Shadow
The beyn flitted the children away. They all scurried off like mice in retreat of a cat.
Regardless, the cat hadn’t finished hissing. “And where the graces is Nettle? She’s abandoned the linens, as you well see!”
The buxom beyn flitted to the cauldron, frowned at it. Wondering what to do about the mess, I presumed. “She’s like to have gone for a gnash, Bumble. You ken she didn’t know the fire would sputter. And the fire’s not her charge, besides.”
“Nay, but she might’ve stopped the unruly runts afore they wreaked their mischief!” Bumble was becoming downright haughty. “Mightn’t she, Liatris?”
Liatris rolled a set of jet-black eyes offset by smile lines and playful freckles. “And so might’ve you, you ornery sod.”
Bumble’s bulbous nose turned crimson at the tip as his friends—or unlucky lunch mates—chortled.
“Who gives a fig who might’ve stopped the wee ones?” a sensible Middling said, breaking a hunk of bread over the bowl sitting in her lean lap. She raised a silver hand tattooed—or birthmarked—in twining green vines. “The fire’s still out.”
I blinked. “Can’t you just shovel some burning coals out of another fire?”
One would’ve thought me a wraith who’d walked through a wall. A wraith with no business speaking.
I shifted, wondering why I felt like an ignoramus. They were the ones being stupid. “And the coals will get this fire going again.”Right? “If you add extra wood.”
Bumble scoffed, blue eyes glaring. “Oh, now why didn’t we witless louts think of that?”
So, Dwarves could be sarcastic as well as cranky.
“Might it be because nothing in Eden will take fire without magic!? Look around, lovey! Everything’s too green, too moist!”
“I was just trying to help.” I decided against usingmymagic. Couldn’t entrust the knowledge of my fire to someone so needlessly hostile. At least, not until my summoning when word was sure to get out. “Forget I said anything.”
Clicking her tongue, Liatris fluttered over to me. “Pay no mind tohim.” She bulleted a reproving eye at Bumble. “He’s needed a toss for a good decade, and his missus has been missing about as long. Maybe by choice.”
Bumble snarled at her, the Middlings chortling.
I sobered, feeling bad that they were making fun of what must’ve been his deepest sadness. “Sorry about your ceyla.”
Bumble sniffed. “I suppose finding Nettle is up tome.” At that, he tramped off, swift despite his bulk.
I chewed my lip. “Is his ceyla really missing?”
“Aye.” Liatris lowered herself onto the stump to my left. She tucked her short, corpulent legs beneath her tattered rag skirt. “Likely the Shadow Prince got to her before the warden could. Shame. Although, which is a worse fate remains to be seen—death at Gentian’s hands or a centuries’ long union with Bumble.”
I did chuckle at that.
“From what I’ve heard, Lia, Bumble wasn’t half as fearsome as his missus,” the viny Middling spoke, doe eyes glimmering like a socialite with gossip. “Word is, she was just as ornery as he, if not more so—that she was known for her skills with a rolling pin.”
Clearly, she wasn’t alluding to pastry making.
“Mm,” the other Middling, a feyr with owl-like down cresting his head, agreed. “That’s how their curse came to be. Bumble, there, owned a working basilisk powder mine—a mine what Gentian ventured to buy—but no amount of wealth would sucker yon wee auld grouser into selling. The Shadow Prince then tried charming it from Bumble, and when that also failed—as impervious to charm as Bumble is—”
We all had another giggle.
“He tried intimidation. Well, Missus Bumble wouldn’t have it. She fair clubbed Gentian out of her house, humiliating him before her household and supper guests. Less than a fortnight later, the Bumbles were fisting death curse seeds.”
Damn. Gentian’s ego was one huge, throbbing bruise that would never heal—no matter how many curses he cast.
Owly licked the corner of his rosebud mouth. “Now, with Bumble taking refuge here and his wife no doubt a chink on some ghastly harbinger’s knife belt, Gentian’s all but taken over the mine. More’s the pity for Bumble’s glen.”
“Hm.” This sounded like something I should investigate. “What exactly is basilisk powder, and why would Gentian want it?”
Again, I took the brunt of their baffled stares.
