“Aye, but we’re not all blessed with dwarven skill.”
I scowl at him. “My metalsmithing is not lacking.”
“Oh, is that right? Then you are a member of the guild? I didn’t see any certificates of their approval displayed.” He leers at me, daring me to disagree.
Oooh, no, he did not just ask me that.
“You know what, sir? I think maybe you’re better off enchanting your own dragon sapphires, if you should even find a vein. Everything I’ve read said dwarves are inexplicably bad at divining the location of that particular gem.” I flutter my eyelashes, slightly surprised at the strength of my rage. “Diamonds, gold, silver, sure, you all can find that easily enough. Commonplace, actually. But the truly rare dragon sapphire?” I make a long hum in the back of my throat. “Dragon sapphires are harder for your kind, aren’t they?”
“Well, I don’t know where you get off talking to me?—”
“Not in the guild,” I say airily, waving a hand, my cheeks hot with annoyance. “I don’t have anyone to answer to, do I? I’m a free agent. I can talk to you however I want. And since you’ve come into my shop, critiquing my work, I don’t think I’m in the mood to entertain any more of your insults. Best wishes finding the dragon sapphire,” I croon at him as he turns the crimson shade of a beet. “I’ll be sure to keep you in my thoughts during what I’m sure will be a fruitless search.”
He huffs so hard his mustache blows up, the little bit of his brown eyes I can see absolutely slitted with rage.
“Toodaloo,” I say, waving my fingers. “You can go out the way you came. Have a lovely day.”
He stares at me in indignation for another long moment, and I just keep smiling at him, feeling completely unhinged.
The moment the door closes behind him, I collapse onto the soft chair in the corner, drumming my hands along the arms in high agitation.
Fuck the guild, fuck that dwarf, and fuck everyone who’s put these insane rules into place.
A slip of paper falls from my pocket as I stand up abruptly again, and I stoop to pick it up, unrolling it and reading the words I wrote on it last night.
Be so good no one can ignore you.
Enchanting a range of dragon sapphire-encrusted jewelry would, in fact, fit that goal quite nicely.
My eyes land back on the geology book on the counter, and when a trio of dwarves walk through the door, I barely glance at them.
“We’re closed,” I yell out. “Closed until further notice.”
“Your sign says open,” a dwarf says in a brogue so thick I hardly understand him. Like the first dwarf, he’s also trembling.
I arch an eyebrow. “The sign says closed.” A small gust of magical will, and the wooden placard swings itself around.
The dwarves freeze for a moment, then scurry back out the door.
It takes a few strides for me to lock the door, and I know exactly what I need to do.
I need a guide to the deep, dark places around Wild Oak Woods, and I need to find that dragon sapphire before the condescending dwarves get their hands on it.
And then I need to do what I do best: craft the finest enchanted jewelry on the continent.
There’s only one problem I can think of: convincing a certain Unseelie fae to accompany me on my quest.
Good thing I’m a witch, and good thing I have just the thing to coerce him into my service.
Slightly unsavory, sure.
Desperate times and all that.
Fenn pads down the stairs, and I whirl around to face him. “Hope you had a good nap, Fenn, because we have supplies to buy and a trap to set.”
But first, I need to grab the blueberry scones from Piper before she sells out.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN