Page 22 of Wizards & Weavers
Braiden unwrapped the ball of paper. It was what you did with these things. A gift needed to be unwrapped, an envelope opened. He smoothed out the wrinkles and stared at the neatly swooping letters.
“Turn around,” Braiden read aloud.
“Braid!” Elyssandra said.
Braiden turned around. The Wizard of Weathervale stood right at the shop window, the two of them like a pair of quails in the bushes. Augustin beckoned with one finger.
Moments later the three of them were standing at the counter as the shopkeeper rang up Augustin’s ludicrous new tent. Elyssandra fiddled with the hem of her robe, keeping her eyes low. Braiden kept his chin up. What did they have to feel sorry for, anyway?
“This isn’t new to me, in case you’re wondering,” Augustin said with a self-satisfied grin. “Being followed around, that is.”
“Please, don’t flatter yourself,” Braiden said. “Elyssandra and I were just doing a bit of shopping.”
Augustin stared pointedly at his empty hands. “And a very productive day of shopping you’ve had, too.”
Braiden bit on the inside of his cheeks, refusing to give Augustin the satisfaction.
“I didn’t realize the two of you knew each other,” Augustin said, gesturing between them. “Braiden, wasn’t it? And I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name. The lovely elven lady with the signature book.”
Elyssandra giggled, delightedly flapping her hand at the wizard. “Oh, you,” the gesture seemed to say. It was hard to watch.
“You remember! From yesterday, yes. You can call me Elyssandra.”
“Well met, Elyssandra. In truth, I also recognized the berries you wear in your hair. That was how I realized I was being followed.”
“The what, now? I’m not sure what you mean.”
Elyssandra flustered, stroking her hair precisely where the first sprig of berries was pinned. A fine time for the secondberry pin to come drifting toward her on the breeze, the whirling golden leaves aiming for the palm of her hand.
“Thoseberries,” Augustin said. “Yes.”
Blushing bright red, Elyssandra bowed her head and pinned the sprig of berries back in place. Braiden winced. They should have thought twice before sending a flying trinket to follow a man who could read the open breeze like the back of his hand.
“Hello, shopkeep,” Braiden said, leaning on the counter, eager to change the subject. “Very busy these days, aren’t we?”
The woman’s smile narrowed her eyes into cheerful slits, her cheeks rounded with rosy red. “Oh, you can say that again. Business at The Noose has always been brisk, but I’ve never seen nothing like this. It’s all that dungeon’s doing. Sent by the gods, it is.”
Braiden cocked an eyebrow at Augustin Arcosa. The wizard stared daggers at Braiden, but quickly threw on a dazzling smile for the shopkeeper.
“Keep the change,” he said, spilling a handful of coins into her open palm.
Braiden rolled his eyes pointedly away from the wizard’s face. Elyssandra only stood there, slightly less red, but still swooning.
“Tomorrow,” Augustin said, his back toward them, his tent tucked under one arm. “Meet me outside the dungeon.”
Braiden stood there staring at the wizard’s rippling cape as he marched out of the Noose. That was it? No argument, none of the anger that had caused him to leap from a tower? What was he up to?
He threw his arms out and turned to Elyssandra. “What is he up to?” he barked.
She didn’t reply, her face bright red, fists clenched so tight her knuckles had gone white. At least Braiden could cross inviting her to the dungeon off his checklist.
“So tomorrow?” he asked.
“Yes,” she blurted out, a kettle at full boil. “Yes, yes, yes. Bright and early. Me, and you, and the Wizard of Weathervale. I might just explode.”
Elyssandra pivoted on the heel of her shoe, her body swiveling in the direction of the adventurer encampment far across town.
“Where are you going?” Braiden asked.
