Page 65 of I Ran Away to Evil 2
The inn was sprawling, with white-and-blue outer walls and a quaint slanted brown roof. The capital city buildings were full of whimsy, and this was also the case with the Wistful Cup. Wooden cutout teacups had been placed in decorative circles on the outer walls, and the ledges had alternating blue and white panels carved to look like waves.
Each room had its own peaked window, shutters open, and fresh pink-and-white flowers hung from the windowsills.
“You got room for us?” Brownie called out, waving to a stable hand carrying a pitchfork and a bucket.
The stable hand, a short older lady with long ears which pointed straight upward and sharp eyes, raised an eyebrow at them. Her pale face was spotted with blemishes that stood out against her flushed cheeks, and her long white hair was braided with a few wisps framing her face. “Aye. But you’re gonna need to store that wagon elsewhere.”
The beastwoman, for I assumed she was a beastfolk who preferred walking around in her folk form, clapped her hands together loudly.
“Yes, Mistress May?” A troll poked his head up from one of the horse stalls behind her. He was a darker green than Gerda, with short, cropped hair and thin eyebrows.
“Can you help our customers bring their wagon over to Trader Tulip’s?” Mistress May leaned against her pitchfork. Brownie considered storing the wagon in her ring for only a second before deciding against it. She didn’t trust any establishment that was friendly with Jack Laverick.
“Right away, Mistress!” The troll came out to help unhitch Donna. Brownie let them do the heavy work—she preferred not risking her fingers to manual jobsas often as possible. There had been this one time, before she’d become famous, that she’d broken her wrist while helping her neighbor in Drendil carry water the morning before a show; that hadnotbeen a fun night. At least when she’d sprained her finger cleaning out the dungeon with her cousins in Peldeep, they’d had potions to spare.
It’s why she paid to carry around a healing potion and antidote! You never knew when you’d be forced to play before a visiting duchess with one arm in a cast.
“Thank you.” Brownie and Rufus grabbed their things and hopped down, letting the green fellow lift the wagon and roll it away. The troll nodded at her before heading out.
“No need to worry about your wagon,” Mistress May stated, swinging her pitchfork up and over her shoulder gracefully. “Trader Tulip is well and above board, and has a guarded storage lot for her merchants. It’ll be four copper a night to leave it there, and I’ll add it to your account. A room and stable board is six copper.”
“Make that two rooms, please,” Rufus interjected. He adjusted his bag on his shoulder and looked up at the inn, then back at Brownie. “Are we staying just the one night?”
“I thought you were going to meet Jack and then continue on to the castle?” Brownie shrugged. She loved his company and wasn’t in a hurry to get rid of the attractive beastman.
“You’re here to see Jack, are you?” Mistress May stuck a finger toward the entrance. “Make sure to tell Amber that when you check in. She’ll get you all settled. I’ll take care of your mare here.” Donna, who up until this point had been side-eyeing and investigating her temporary home, turned to Mistress May. The mare let out a huff before wandering over to greet the old woman.
“It’s nice to meet you too, Donna.” Mistress May smiled for the first time as Donna butted her head gently against the woman’s shoulder. “I have just the right stall for you. Come this way.”
Brownie stared on in disbelief as her horse affectionately followed Mistress May into the back of the stable. That woman must have a skill. It was the only way.
“Shall we?” Rufus drew her back to the present, nodding toward the door.
They walked into the Wistful Cup just in time to watch a drakin half transform in the lobby and breathe out a burst of fire.
CHAPTER 37
Singed Fur Is No Joke
Rufus
I was impressed by the control the drakin woman showed as she carefully adjusted her flames, bringing the large hearth back up to a roaring happy fire. A great cauldron hung over the flames, full of bubbling water.
“One,”cough, “moment.” She let out a puff of smoke and then transformed from a large, scaled, winged fire-breathing dragon woman to a petite human-looking creature with flaming red hair, bright red eyes, and black skin.
We waited as the young woman shook herself a bit and then greeted us politely. “I’m Amber! Welcome to the Wistful Cup! Where every room comes with a complimentary tea service. How may I help you today?”
Bronwynn stepped forward. “We’d like two rooms, and Mistress May is dealing with our horse and wagon.”
“All right, follow me to the counter and we can check you in.” Amber bobbed a polite curtsy and led us to a large wooden desk with ledgers laid out.
“We’re also supposed to mention,” I added, “that Jack sent us.” I didn’t enjoy saying it, but business was business. The man was insufferable, and I wasn’t glad to be associated with him, but Amber didn’t seem to share my dislike; she immediately beamed a huge smile at us. “Wonderful! I’ll let you know when he is here and ready to see you. Any friend of Jack’s is a friend of ours. Here are your keys. I’ve got you two top-floor rooms facing the street. If you have any questions or concerns, let me know.”
“Thank you, Amber,” Bronwynn said. “What did you say about complimentary tea?”
Amber reached down and pulled out a thin wooden slat beautifully carved with a list of teas and tea accessories. “You have one of these in your rooms,” Amber explained. “Anytime, once a day, you may place an order for tea at nocharge. After that, the usual costs apply. All of our teas are sourced directly from the Pixie Prim, and we pride ourselves on an excellent cup.”
As a connoisseur of fine beverages, the Pixie Prim was one of my favorites—and not just because they were from the Dark Enchanted Forest. The pixies really knew how to care for plants, and their tea was no exception. Ignoring Jack, this inn was proving to be a perfect choice.
