Pierce was silent a moment, absently running his finger around the lip
of his glass and remembering Sage, her easy smile, her fairy tale face, the
long, rich fall of her hair, so heavy, so full it could belong only in the
realm of the imagination. The beer glass refused to sing; he dropped his hand,
said hollowly, “I spent those two or three days in Chimera Bay trying to get
back in to see her. Trying to outsmart the restaurant. But always when I went
there, no matter what time of day, no matter what day, it would be closed. If
he sees me coming, I might not be much help to you. He might just lock the
place up.”
“Maybe you can melt in with the lunch crowd. And if not—we’ll have to think
of something else. But try. Please? Just remember: If he actually lets you in
the door, don’t eat anything.”
“Of course I’ll try.” He reached toward his back pocket, caught Tye’s eye,
and gave up on that thought. “He won’t let me pay for anything,” he
murmured ruefully. “Not even my mistakes.”
“You’re family,” Carrie said. “Your mother has been calling Lilith ever
since you left home. She knows you’re here.” He stared at her, aghast. “You
could invite her to lunch. I’m just saying,” she added as he stood up. “We
need all the help we can get.”
“Believe me,” he said grimly, “joining me for lunch is the last thing she’
ll do if she finds out who else I’m inviting.”
—
He was amazed any number of times before he actually saw Sage’s face. The
small, elegant restaurant stayed on its corner as he approached it and did not
shroud itself in mist. The door opened when he thumbed the latch. There were
actually diners inside, filling most of the tables, as though there were
nothing at all extraordinary about the place. He saw Sage standing with her
back to him, speaking to a table of four, most likely telling them what they
were going to have for lunch. Then she turned, and above all, he was
astonished at the sudden, pleased smile on her face.
“You came back!” she exclaimed. “We hoped you would. Todd asked me to tell
him if I ever saw you again, so that he could make something very special for
you. Now let me see. Where can I put you?”
Pierce glanced around, found his father and brother at a table in a corner
near the bank vault. “With them,” he said. “They’re waiting for me.”
“Oh, that’s perfect. As you can see, we have so many guests today.” She
paused briefly, her attention snagged by his clothes, or by the scrutiny he
gave her face. A line, the faintest thread of thought, formed and vanished on
her brow. “I don’t remember that you were a knight,” she said slowly. “I
remember—someone younger.”
“I’m a kitchen knight,” he answered wryly, and realized, as he heard
himself, how it was true.
She said nothing, bowed her head, showing him her perfect profile against her
shining hair, and led him to the table.
Val glanced up from his phone as Pierce sat; his pale blue, burning gaze homed
in on his brother, and then on the tall, lovely server. “Are you all here
now?” she asked, then paused, as though distracted from a script. “You look
so much alike.”
“They’re my sons,” Leith said with satisfaction, and her eyes widened, as
though even she, the sorcerer’s enchanted wife, recognized the man behind the
gossip.
“We might have other friends coming,” Val told her cheerfully. “They’re
very rowdy. You probably shouldn’t let them in.”
“As long as Todd cooks, he will feed whoever comes in. We’ll find room. Have
you had a chance to read the menu? It’s unusual, but everything he cooks is
wonderful; you won’t be sorry about letting him choose. And we have an
amazing new cook working with him. Our well-kept secret. We hide her in the
shadows so no one can steal her away. What would you like to drink?”
“Water.
“Water.”
“Water.”
“Perfect. I’ll let the kitchen know you’re ready.”
“Who else did you invite?” Pierce asked Val softly when she was out of
earshot.
Val picked up his cell again, and fingered through it. “I’ll show you.”
There was, oddly enough, what looked like real bread on the table. Both Val
and Leith had broken a piece on their plates, scattering a deceptive path of
crumbs onto the cloth. Pierce, eyeing the board with the tiny loaf on it, felt
a sudden urge to taste it, find out if it was real. Val raised his eyes from
the phone, narrowed them warningly at his brother.
“She’s very beautiful,” he murmured. “I can see why you came back here.”
Pierce opened his mouth, found no coherent response in his head. I came back
to return a knife, he thought. I came back to show you what a fish fry is. I
came to rescue a cook who asked to be helped. I came because I couldn’t not.
“She’s not what you see,” he said shortly. “That’s why we’re here. What
are you looking at?”
Val turned his phone around, showed him an image. It was of a huge cauldron,
polished so that it seemed to shine from within by its own brilliant, mystical
source. Every inch of it held pictograms, ancient writings, birds, fish,
animals both legendary and extinct. Light filled the cauldron, spilled out and
around it in a swirling pattern that curled through the air as it flowed
upward. It was fashioned, Pierce guessed, out of solid gold, and looked big
enough to steam the three of them together.
“That should do it,” Val said with satisfaction.
“Should,” Leith agreed, smiling.
“What’s the name of this place again?”