Chapter 2
Two
“Hello?” Vaskel eased his head around the opening in the door, his eyes slowly adjusting to the dim interior of the apothecary as he peered inside.
Stepping fully into the shop and wincing at the jangle of the bell overhead, he took in the dark walls lined with shelves and the ebony-glass jars and bottles filling them.
Even without reading the paper labels curling at the edges, Vaskel knew the containers held exotic oils and rare ingredients, all of which were used in the various powders and tinctures Iris blended.
His nose twitched as he inhaled the cacophony of scents that some found overwhelming, but he found comforting.
“Hello?” The echo of his greeting from deep within the shop was softer and higher-pitched, holding traces of wariness.
Iris’s face appeared at the seam of the heavy brown curtains that served as the gateway to the back room, her drowsy expression quickly morphing into a smile. “Vaskel?”
Suddenly, the hellkin was overcome with a bout of uncertainty. “Is it too early?”
Iris stepped through the curtain, shaking her head. “I’m open. I popped back to put the kettle on, that’s all.”
Vaskel took tentative steps toward the counter separating them.
Being unsure of himself was an odd sensation, but Iris rattled him like no one else.
It certainly wasn’t because of any effort on the woman’s part.
Despite her adventuring past—a past not everyone knew of and she rarely spoke about—Iris had taken to the role as the village apothecary and de facto healer with enthusiasm.
She wore her silver-streaked dark curls loose or piled on top of her head in a haphazard bun.
Her colorful skirts were full, and the half-moon spectacles—ones Vaskel suspected she didn’t need—often rested on the tip of her nose, while the distinct blend of scents from her shop clung to her skin like perfume.
Despite all this, or perhaps because of it, Vaskel found her fascinating.
Iris leaned her elbows on the counter, steepling her fingers and resting her chin on them. “You’re out early.”
“Cali and I were in the market,” he said, his tongue thick and the words tripping from him in a clumsy muddle.
Iris’s gaze took in his lack of bags or market wares, but she didn’t comment. Instead, her smile brightened. “Did Cali mention finishing the latest book I lent her?”
Vaskel couldn’t keep up with the rate at which Iris supplied his friend with novels and Cali read them. “She didn’t, but I think she’s given up trying to explain the appeal of pirate romance.”
Iris laughed, straightening. “This is technically a mermaid romance, but there are one or two pirates.”
Vaskel couldn’t help but grin at the woman’s laugh, the sound loosening something inside him. “I think you’re a big part of why Cali wanted to stay in Wayside. She’s never met anyone with as many books as you have.”
Iris’s green eyes were luminous behind her glasses. “That’s one of the reasons I agreed to settle in Wayside all those years ago. I could finally have all the books I’d ever desired.” She winked at him. “Running with a crew isn’t exactly conducive to building a library.”
His chest hitched in response to the wink.
That was usually his move, but he was sure she hadn’t done it in the practiced way he did.
Even so, it had knocked him off balance, and he cleared his throat gruffly and tried to remember his excuse for popping into her shop.
But her mention of crewing sent his mind skittering to her time as a rogue and her friendship with Lira’s gran, who had been their crew’s mage. “How long did you—?”
The whistle of a teakettle interrupted his question, and Iris turned away with a bit too much eagerness. “I’d better get that.”
Then he was left standing alone in the shop, wondering if there was a reason the apothecary avoided talking about her crewing days or if he was imagining her dodging the topic.
Either way, he needed to get a hold of himself, or the woman was going to question his frequent visits.
As it was, she probably thought he came down with more than his fair share of throat tickles and sore muscles.
The one thing he refused to ask her about was the only true twinge of pain he’d experienced lately, but if he told the apothecary that the enchanted ring she’d given Sass to warn of danger had prickled when he’d tried it on, that might raise more questions than he wanted.
Besides, he had sensed nothing since that single prickle.
There was no reason to believe it was anything but a glitch.
He thought of his prickling wrist in the market, then quickly dismissed that as a product of the dry air, and more of an itch than a prickle.
When Iris emerged from behind the curtains again, she held two cups of tea. She extended one to him, inclining her head slightly. “This should help with that sore throat you had a few days ago. I added some lemon oil for you.”
Vaskel thanked her, cringing inwardly that she’d remembered his last manufactured ailment as he sipped the hot tea that was indeed tangy with lemon.
“How is your throat?” she asked. “Did the herbs help?”
He nodded while swallowing. “It’s better than ever.” At least that was not a lie. His throat was better than ever, perhaps because it had never been sore.
Iris smiled over the rim of her flowered teacup. “Then you didn’t come back for more herbs. What can I help you with today?”
He cursed himself for speaking too quickly. Now he couldn’t simply ask for more of the last remedy. If he continued to complain of new aches and pains every time he stopped in to see Iris, she would think he was dancing on death’s door. Then he remembered his conversation with Cali.
“Lira’s wedding,” he blurted.
This made Iris tilt her head. “Lira’s wedding?”
He released a breath that sounded more relieved than he would have liked. “Cali and I are worried that the elaborate celebration the village wants to throw might not be what she and Korl want. You’ve known her longer than anyone, though.”
Iris placed her teacup on the counter as she mulled this over. “Tin has a tendency to take charge of celebrations, and Lira doesn’t have her gran here to run interference.”
“You’re as close a thing to family that she has,” Vaskel said, “aside from Erindil, but his ideas of a celebration are even more extravagant than Tin’s.”
Iris scrunched her lips to one side. “That’s putting it mildly.”
Vaskel pressed on, knowing the one thing to say that would secure Iris’s help. “You knew her gran better than anyone. I’m sure Elia would want you to step in for her.”
Iris’s eyes became glassy, but she sniffed and squared her shoulders. “You’re right. I always promised Elia I would look out for Lira. She would want me to make sure Lira’s wedding is about what she wants.”
Vaskel felt a stab of guilt that he pushed aside as he realized what he’d said was true. If there was anyone who could ensure that Lira’s wedding didn’t become a spectacle, it was Iris.
“I’m glad you stopped in this morning, Vaskel.” Iris drained the last of her tea and held his gaze. “I’ll stop by the tavern this evening to talk to her.”
Vaskel downed his remaining tea in a single gulp before wishing Iris farewell and already eagerly anticipating her visit that evening.
It wasn’t until he stepped outside the shop doors that his mind cleared enough for him to notice that the prickling on his wrist had shifted from mildly irritating to impossible to ignore.