Chapter 8 #4
After sliding the tart into the oven to bake, I dished up the stew, and we ate by the warm glow of the hearth while rain continued to patter softly against the windows.
Conversation came in scattered fragments.
Grandmother made several attempts to revive the pleasant atmosphere from earlier, but each topic quickly fizzled into silence.
Gabe also seemed quieter. Several times I caught him studying me when he thought I wasn't paying attention. Each time, he looked away before I could determine what he sought.
The sweet scent of baking raspberries gradually filled the kitchen.
Though I told myself I was merely ensuring the tart baked correctly, I found myself checking it far more frequently than necessary, wishing to finally complete the commission.
The sooner the tart was finished, the sooner Gabe could continue his search, and the sooner everything could return to normal.
Then perhaps I could stop noticing how empty I seemed.
Eventually the crust turned a perfect golden brown while crimson filling bubbled gently through the lattice top. I removed it from the hearth and set it upon the cooling rack. Magic shimmered faintly along the surface before gradually settling.
Normally a tart of this size should cool for at least an hour so its warmth wouldn’t make it soggy when I packaged it, but I reached for a small box after just a few minutes, telling myself I was only willing to cut corners because I was tired.
I carefully boxed the tart and carried it to the table.
Hope flickered across Gabe’s features as he straightened. “Is it finished?”
I nodded and set the box before him. “The spell is complete.”
For a moment he simply stared at it. Then he carefully lifted the lid. The scent of warm raspberries and honey drifted into the room.
“Are you going to eat it now?” I asked. I assumed he would take it back to the village and consume it there; watching the magic at work had never been my favorite part of the process, considering what each spell cost me.
After a brief hesitation, he cut himself a slice. The moment he took a bite, the magic activated. A familiar ripple passed through the room, subtle as a breeze stirring unseen curtains. I hunched my shoulders against the sensation I’d experienced more times than I cared to.
Gabe froze, his fork remained suspended midway to the plate. Wonder mingled with confusion flickered across his expression before it vanished. His gaze drifted unfocused for a moment as though he were listening to a distant sound only he could hear.
This wasn’t the reaction my enchanted confections usually conjured. I frowned. “What is it?”
The silence stretched. He blinked, then he slowly looked down at the tart. “I…” His hand rose unconsciously to his chest. “I don't know.”
The answer did little to reassure me. Magic usually produced a far more predictable reaction—a memory cake restored recollections, a courage confection inspired bravery, while a tracking tart revealed a path.
This looked like none of those things. Yet before I could question him further, the strange look faded.
“It must have worked.” The uncertainty in his voice suggested he wasn't entirely convinced.
Even so, he rose to his feet. The storm had finally ended outside. Moonlight filtered through the windows, illuminating the kitchen in soft silver. “It’s grown late. I should return home.”
Grandmother looked as though she wanted to protest, but I merely nodded. “Then I wish you success in your search.” I began to wipe the long worktable, erasing the traces of our joint effort.
His gaze lingered on me. For a brief moment, I thought he might say something else. Instead he simply offered a quiet, “Thank you, Cecelia.”
I continued cleaning, but watched him walk to the door. The forest beyond lay peaceful beneath the moonlight. For a moment he stood upon the threshold, looking back toward me. Then he turned and disappeared amongst the trees.
I watched through the glass of the door until the darkness swallowed him from view. Nothing stirred within me—no disappointment, anticipation, or longing for another conversation. Exactly as it should be.
Yet as I stood there staring into the empty forest, a strange unease settled over me, creating the sense that I had forgotten something important. Something…precious, a word that rested just beyond the edge of memory. The sensation lingered long after he vanished within the trees.
I found myself on the doorstep, ostensibly removing the “Open” sign, but peering into the trees down the path he’d created days before.
Eventually I turned back towards the bakery, but before I could enter, I heard hurried footsteps approaching from the forest. Moments later a dark figure burst from the trees.
Gabe. He stopped several paces from the door, breathing hard, his dark eyes wide with bewilderment. I frowned. “What are you—”
“I think something is wrong.” He glanced back towards the forest before returning his confused gaze to me. “I tried to leave.” The words hung between us before he added quietly: “But somehow I ended up back here.”