A tall slender woman with ebony skin, and black hair peppered with gray that frames her round face stands behind a counter.
She greets us with a kind smile. “Doc what brings you here?”
“I need a few hard to come by ingredients. Dittany of Crete and Hellebore.”
Maggie’s eyes widen. “Those are powerful herbs.”
“It’s for a big spell.”
“I didn’t know you dabbled in magic, Doc,” Maggie observes him intensely.
“Need, must, and all that.” Kirk meets her stare.
“Hmmm.” She looks at me. “You haven’t introduced your friend.”
“This is Ylva Eskildson, my mate.”
Maggie’s mouth forms an o. “The time must be nearing.”
I turn to Kirk who shrugs.
Running her fingers over the bottles on the shelf behind her, Maggie hums. She chooses two, and places them on the counter in front of us.
“How much?” she asks.
“Eight ounces of both should do it.”
Maggie measures the herbs out on the scales, and stores them in glass bottles.
“What did you mean earlier?” I pierce Kirk with a stare when he accepts the bag.
“Let’s take a walk while your young man does his rounds.”
I meet Kirk’s gaze, and he nods his approval.
“Okay.”
“It was time for my lunch break anyway.” She slips her open sign to closed and leads us out of the shop.
“I usually check in to see if anyone needs treatment or advice.”
“Go.” I can see his conflict. I won’t stand between him and those in need.
He pauses. “Are you sure?”
The nervousness is adorable. It doesn’t fit his usual calm demeanor.
“Positive. I’ll be fine.”
“I assure you her safety,” Maggie says.
“Alright. I’ll go to the infirmary.” He steps back, and pauses, hesitating.
Maggie smiles. “Well, that’s a change of pace for the Doc. I can see you’ll be good for him.”
I snicker. “Are you a seer?”
“My family has a touch of the sight. I know who you are; one of Fenrir’s children.”
I’m not surprised she knows given the powerful aura surrounding her. “I’m glad someone did.”
“It’s a rumor most have forgotten about.”
“But not you?” I study her.
“We’ve been waiting for change, you represent that.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure.” We continue to walk through the town. She waves at others and exchanges greetings.
“You lost your family young, so a sense of community and belonging must be all new to you.”
“Yes. I was brought home against my will and had this dumped into my lap.” Unable to resist her maternal lure, I speak honestly.
Her salt and paper brows arch high. “Explain?” The indignation on my behalf feels good.
She listens as I relay my past week. The anger flashing in her dark brown eyes reassures, loosening the tight muscles in my neck.
“I’m sorry you had to experience that. Desperate people make poor, ignorant choices.”
