Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 83281 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83281 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
“It’s okay—I don’t blame your familiar for being upset,” Rath said.
To my surprise, he went down on one knee right there in the doorway, clearly trying to get more on Sebastian’s level.
“Hey, Sebastian,” he rumbled softly, holding out a hand for my cat. “I’m really sorry about yesterday—I thought you and Sarah were trespassing. Now I know the two of you belong here and I promise, I would never hurt either one of you. In fact, I’ll protect you along with the house if you’ll let me.”
Sebastian stopped hissing and seemed to consider the big Orc carefully for a long moment. Then he stretched his neck forward and sniffed delicately at Rath’s fingers.
I waited silently, watching with great interest. I had always treated Sebastian like a sentient and self-aware person because…well, because he was. He was smarter than any animal I had ever seen and he definitely understood me when I talked, even though he couldn’t speak back to me. But I had never had anyone else—besides my mom—treat my cat the way I did—like he was an intelligent person worthy of respect rather than just a dumb animal.
After sniffing Rath’s hand, Sebastian looked up at him and gave him a slow blink—the cat sign of approval. Then he butted his head against Rath’s fingers.
“There we go…now we’re on the same page,” Rath rumbled and gently stroked Sebastian from head to tail. “Thank you for accepting my apology.”
Sebastian purred loudly, accepting a few more pets, before turning and pacing back into the house with his tail held high.
“Wow—that was impressive,” I remarked as Rath straightened up to his full height. He rose smoothly—he was graceful despite his size, I thought.
“Thanks. I know the way to a witch’s heart is through her familiar.” He grinned at me. “If you can’t win over the cat—or whatever companion animal she has—you can just forget it.”
Was he saying he was trying to win my heart? My pulse sped up but I tried to cover my confusion.
“I’m not a witch—I don’t even know if I really have magic yet—remember?” I said lightly.
“Oh, you’ve got magic,” he said confidently. “Your Grandmother was sure of it and she was never wrong about that kind of thing. You just need to find it.”
“We’ll see, I guess.” I shrugged. “Come on in—did you bring the cinnamon? I’m just about ready to put the pie in the oven.”
“Great! Got it right here.” He handed me a bag and I found a large container of expensive cinnamon inside.
“Oh—you got the good stuff,” I remarked as I headed for the kitchen.
“Nothing but the best for your Grandma’s apple pie,” Rath said cheerfully, following me.
He watched with interest as I added the cinnamon, rolled out the crust, and added the filling. After I crimped the edges of the crust together, I brushed the whole thing with egg wash and sprinkled a generous amount of the sanding sugar on top.
“Thank you for this,” I said, as I sprinkled. “I would have forgotten all about it.”
“I remember your Grandma using it for her pies and cookies,” he said. “I wasn’t sure if she had left any in the cabinet or not.”
“She didn’t, so I’m glad to have it.” I smiled up at him. I had been a little nervous about letting him watch me bake, but he was so interested in every step and not at all judgmental, which made me fairly relaxed.
“I noticed you got me a bottle of wine, too,” I remarked, as I slid the pie into the preheated oven.
Rath shrugged.
“I thought you might like to have some at dinner.”
“Which I would love to invite you to eat with me,” I said. “I wish I had something more than pie to offer you. If you don’t mind waiting, I can whip something up.”
“Nothing fancy—I don’t want to make you work too hard after all that trouble you went to making the pie,” he rumbled.
“How about grilled cheese sandwiches?” It was what I had planned to have for my own dinner. I remembered my Grandma making me the most perfect, buttery grilled cheese and I was craving the creamy, crunchy texture.
“That sounds delicious.” Rath smiled. “Is there anything I can do?”
“Well…I think I remember my Grandma canning her famous vegetable soup and storing it in the basement,” I said, frowning. “But I was kind of afraid to go down there last night and look for it because the light has burned out. I mean, not that I’m afraid of the dark or anything, but…”
I trailed off. For some reason, the memory of the black door with the red X on it had popped into my mind.
“But you were probably worried that if you slipped and fell down the stairs, nobody would come save you,” he finished for me. “I know where your Grandma kept the light bulbs—I’ll change the bulb for you and then we can see if she left any of her vegetable soup. It’s one of my favorites too.”