Brew 11

With heavy tears, Emery closed the grimoire, grabbing her handkerchief to wipe her eyes. She placed the book on the table and sat down, needing a moment to let the words sink in. The prejudice Aria had faced, the heartbreak her grandfather endured… all of it lingered like smoke in her chest.

But one question still haunted her:

“What was in the letter?” She whispered to herself.

Toriyami dusted each table in the table shop, not looking up as he did. “Indeed,” he mumbled, slipping the duster back into his back pocket. He clapped his hands together, shaking off the excess dust. “Are you sure there is no mention of what he wrote? Maybe you missed a passage?”

Emery sighed, exasperated. “Ive re-read the same pages at least five times. There’s nothing.” Still, even saying that, Emery second guessed herself. She picked up the grimoire once again and began flicking through the pages. Her eyes darted across every margin, looking between each gap, searching for anything-anything she might have missed.

Another fruitless skim later, she groaned shutting the book and pushing it away from herself.

The she paused. Her brow furrowed as she glanced towards the window. The latch was unfastened.

Toriyami glanced over at the window, his brow raising. “Did you open it earlier?” he asked, eyeing up the window.

Emery shook her head, “It wasn’t me.” She thought for a moment, if it wasn’t her nor was it Toriyami. “Hanaki, can you come here please?” She called out down to the hallway.

Hanaki came skittering in, broom in hand and dust spread across his face. “Yes master?”

Emery knelt down, studying Hanaki’s face for any sign of mischief. “Did you open the window?” She asked calming, gesturing to the open window.

“No master,” Hanaki replied quickly.

Knowing if he had done it, Hanaki would have confessed, Emery smiled ruffling Hanaki’s hair as she stood up straight. “Maybe we caught the latch while we were cleaning,” she mused looking to Toriyami.

“Or maybe,” Toriyami called from the fireplace as hen began to fill it with fresh firewood, “the forest fairies are playing tricks again.”

Emery’s eye’s widened as her eyes drifted to the forest outside. Something about the way the trees shimmered in the morning light made her pause.

Could Toriyami be onto something?

She rubbed her chin and began to pace. An average fairy could live few hundred years. If the fairies in the grimoire were still alive... was it possible they would still come to visit the tea house?

A grin broke out across her face as she snapped her fingers and darted towards the kitchen.

Toriyami and Hanaki exchanged looks as the sound of pots and pans clanging came from behind the kitchen door. “Just let your master work through it,” Toriyami muttered shaking his head and continued with his daily chores.

Hours passed; Emery was still in the kitchen – flour in her hair, batter on her sleeves. At one point, her antics setting off the fire alarm. Toriyami rushing in to find a small pan on fire which he was able to easily extinguish. “You couldn’t have just magicked up some cakes?” He asked, voice filled with annoyance as he put the used utensils and pots in the sink.

“They’d know the difference,” Emery said wiping her brow with her wrist.

“They?”

“The fairies,” Emery replied, grinning as she scooped fresh batter into the muffin tins. “They can tell when you cut corners. Magic doesn’t fool them.!

“And how exactly do you know that?” Toriyami hummed.

Emery smiled softly, her hands moving with practiced care as she continued. “My grandmother found that out when she tried to charm her way through a baking contest back at school. The fairies refused to touch her enchanted sweets.”

Toriyami chuckled at eh reason as he rolled up his sleeves. “You know, this is why we need a real baker in the shop. Someone who doesn’t nearly light the kitchen on fire every time they walk in.”

Emery pouted, feeling a little attacked.

“I mean, for a kitchen witch-” Toriyami teased, patting Emery’s head. “-you’ve got a suspicious number of burnt offerings.”

“I’m not just a kitchen witch,” Emery protested with a huff. “And you’re being very presumptive.”

“If you’re so confident,” Toriyami said, his eyes glinting, “maybe a demonstration is in order.”

Emery narrowed her eyes. “Careful. I could turn you into a loaf of bread.”

“No need, little witch,” Toriyami smiled softly. “I still have the scar from last time.”

The pair burst out laughing as the continued to try and make the perfect batch of muffins.

Eventually, they were able to make the perfect batch – fluffy, golden and, thankfully, unburnt. Emery tucked them into a hand-woven basket placing a small note on the top.

To the fairies.

She set the basket outside, just beneath the very window that had been mysterious unlatched. “Well,” she sighed looking up to Toriyami. “Let’s see if this works.”