10 – Freshly Brewed over Dragon Heat

“She’s got a lot of names, that one. Flying Doom. The Demon. Celestine the Fallen.” Vivi’s hand dipped into her apron pocket. She produced a fistful of dried herbs. “But I heard it loud and clear. Her horns called her Ashley. Many, many. Many times.”

She dropped the herbs into the kettle without looking. Her movements were practiced: the kind of mechanical grace born from doing something ten thousand times.

So it wasn’t Simon that had mentioned this to her. Her jaw clenched. What does this… Wait, talking horns?

“She was talking with her… horns?” Ashley asked.

Vivi offered no verbal answer. She pointed twice with the tip of her nose toward the space above Celestine’s head, gesturing clearly toward the double halo spinning. He dimmed his light.

The blue fire crackled. Paco’s gaze shifted back and forth between Ashley and his owner. His reptilian pupils were slit thin.

“So you know her well,” Ashley asked, raising and straightening her spine. “Tell me everything you know.”

“Or what?”

“Or…” Ashley started.

The words hung in the air. She thought better of it. Vivi’s posture showed no aggression. The threat died in her throat.

“Ahaha. Kidding. Just kidding.” Vivi’s laugh was soft and melodic. “I’ll tell you what I know.”

She fished a wooden spoon from her other pocket and stirred. Steam climbed from the pot. It smelled of pine. Underneath the scent, there was something metallic. Faintly wrong.

“Take a seat, darling. There, there. You look too tense. All wrapped in magic, your muscles coiled like a bowstring. You better learn to relax.”

Ashley’s shoulders dropped a fraction, the muscles only knotting tighter from the effort. She kept her grip on the protective spells as she moved toward the faded sofa Vivi gestured to with her nose.

She sat. A small cloud of dust fluttered up from the upholstery, making her sneeze.

“So, I met the other Celestine last year,” Vivi said. She lifted the kettle onto a high table and reached for a large lump of raw meat.

Paco’s eyes went wide. He scrambled onto all fours and began circling Vivi with his tail held high. The movement reminded Ashley of Dante, her beloved cat.

Ashley’s chest tightened.

Her cat had done the same whenever she opened a can. Paco was massive compared to a housecat and turned Vivi’s path through the room into a slow-motion obstacle course.

Vivi walked directly to Ashley. Without a word of warning, she dropped the meat onto her lap.

The meat landed with a wet, heavy plop. Blood and glistening fat spread across her ‘top-of-the-line’ gear leaving a dark stain.

Ashley’s eyes went wide. She drew on her power, ready to incinerate the old hag, the meat, and possibly the entire building.

Then she stopped. She wanted to see where this was going.

“Feed the beast while we talk, would ya, dear? I have to pour this while it’s still hot. Freshly brewed over dragon heat is best, I always say.”

Vivi pressed a finger to her chin. “I wonder if that’s actually true, though. Paco, what do you think?”

The dragon marched straight to Ashley. His eyes never left the meat. He made a short sound, something close to a woof.

“I thought so,” said Vivi, turning back to the kettle. The steam licked at her cheeks. She didn’t seem to notice.

Ashley’s face contorted. She looked up, hunting for sympathy. Simon and Agata stood perfectly still. Their eyes were bright with tears, perhaps, or a laugh they were desperately holding back. It was probably both.

The dragon planted himself in front of her. His eyes were nearly bulging. His tongue lolled out the side of his mouth. Ashley grabbed the cold, slick mass with both hands. It felt dense. Slimy.

“No, dear.” Vivi clicked her tongue. “A bit at a time. Feed it slow. You shouldn’t spoil pups. Where is the fun in that?”

Vivi turned again and scanned her shelves. Her finger traced the edges of dusty vials.

“Ah. There it is.” She stepped onto a low wooden stool and stretched for an empty bottle of azure glass.

“So, I was…” Vivi lost her footing for a moment, reaching for the too-high shelf. “I was in the capital. A besieging army was outside the walls and all that. You can imagine business wasn’t going particularly well.”

She climbed down and reached for the kettle. She pulled out the wooden spoon and looked around for somewhere to put it. She found nothing, so she tucked the dripping thing back into her apron. The fabric turned dark, sodden, liquid leaking down from the pocket.

“You see, people don’t buy perfumes and aphrodisiacs when war is at the gates. Sure, healing potions were in high demand, but I couldn’t exactly go for a stroll outside the city to collect herbs. And… Dear, that poor thing is imploring you. Would you feed him already? Come on.”

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“Ah, yes. How do I…” Ashley stopped. “Never mind.”

She pushed her intention into the air between her fingers. “[Wind Blade].”

A sharp, cold hum vibrated through her index and middle fingers. A razor-thin edge of compressed air shimmered into existence. She sliced. The meat offered no resistance, parting like warm butter.

Vivi and Paco gave a single nod of approval at the same time.

Ashley tossed the piece into the air and the dragon caught it mid-flight. He munched with a wet, rhythmic sound, his tail thumping against the floorboards.

“He likes you. Anyway, one day they breached the walls. Screaming. Panic. The usual stuff.”

Vivi tilted the kettle over the azure bottle. The glass creaked under the sudden heat, a high, thin sound that lingered longer than it should have.

“I was in my shop minding my own business. Complaining to myself about how bothersome the situation had become. Did I mention business was terrible, dear?”

“Is this going anywhere, old hag?” Aury’s voice was a sharp needle. It needled the inside of Ashley’s skull.

“Yes, yes. Familiars these days. I’m almost there.” Vivi leaned in, her eyes glittering with a violet glow. “So. Who enters my shop? You. Or rather, the other you—menacing. Horns and fangs. Power poured off her like heat off a forge.”

“And? Did you fight her?” Ashley asked.

“Fight? Don’t be ridiculous. Do I look like a swordsman or a mage to you?” Vivi’s laugh was a dry rustle. “No, don’t be silly, dear. I put on my best face.”

Vivi’s voice shifted. The gravelly edge vanished, replaced by a honeyed, liquid tone.”How may I help you, your holiness? I said.”