by Erin Johnson
I nodded. "Yep. But I've got a lot to fill you guys in on."
With one arm still wrapped around Hank's waist, I turned and gave Horace a little wave. He leaned against a tree trunk and pulled a hand from his pocket to wiggle his fingers at me.
Captain Kenta clapped his hands. "We ready then?"
Misaki swung into her saddle. She made it look so easy.
"Uh, actually." Hank glanced from me to Horace. "I'd like a quick word—if you have a moment?"
Horace's eyes stayed half-closed, but his eyebrow twitched. "The golden prince wants a word? How could I say no?"
I frowned up at Hank. "Is everything okay?"
I couldn't quite read his expression as he gave me another squeeze. He smiled, let out a shaky breath, then gulped, his eyes bright. "Yeah, um, this'll just take a second." He jogged over to Horace. "I wanted to ask you a favor, actually." They disappeared into the trees together.
A favor? What kind of favor would Hank ask Horace for? He'd barely begun to view my brother as more than just a dangerous criminal… and now a favor?
Rhonda drifted over and threw an arm over my shoulders. "What in the hell?"
My thoughts exactly.
"Do you know what they're talking about?" Maple clasped her hands and rose on her tiptoes, leaning forward as if that might help her overhear.
I folded my arms and shook my head. This weird day was just getting weirder.
53
The Tent
The next few days passed quickly. Chores had piled up at Jiji's guesthouse while we were away, and we all pitched in to pick oranges in the garden (while setting magic barriers to keep the gnomes out—I still hadn't seen one). We set the brooms and mops to magically clean the floors, did a massive load of everyone's sheets and fluffy white towels, and got back to eating meals all together (which I'd missed). Though, judging from Maple's quiet brooding, she hadn't missed sharing an untidy kitchen with our sweet older host.
Although our trip to the seaside had been fun, it felt good to be back home. And I couldn't help but smile a little, that Kusuri felt like home now. Or at least, as close to home as we could get when away from Bijou Mer. I kept so busy I hardly noticed, but there was an odd energy around. It stood out in the quiet moments, when I'd take a break and let the brooms and rakes and buckets do the work for a bit.
Sitting on the low step of the wooden porch, my bare feet in the sunny grass on our third day back, I spotted Hank sneaking through the front garden. I sat low enough that he didn't see me behind the tall rosebushes and sweet-smelling orange trees. He glanced right and left as he made for the street in a crouch. I frowned. What was he up to? I grinned as I watched him. He needed some lessons on sneaking. He dashed down the winding stone path and out of sight down the street.
Still puzzled, I stood and dusted off the cream-colored apron I wore. Now that I was thinking about it, he'd been acting strangely lately. I kept catching him watching me, which at first had been sweet, but it was happening so often now that it made me wonder why. And he hadn't been sleeping well—I'd woken up the last few nights to find him staring at the ceiling, chewing his lower lip. And he still hadn't told me what he and Horace had talked about or what that favor he'd asked for was.
I crept up the winding path and leaned over the hedges that formed a fence along the front of the property. Hank, with his tall frame and broad shoulders, had stopped at the end of the street, in front of the haunted house with its circling ravens overhead. I bit my lip. No, Hank. Keep going. You do not want the red balloon that nice clown is offering you. I winced when he darted across the street and headed straight for it. My worry turned to confusion as another dark figure emerged from the shadows and beckoned Hank to the back of the house. What the what? I was tempted to follow and spy on him, but had a better idea. It wasn't just Hank who'd been acting a little weird the last few days. And I figured I could save myself a trip to the run-down house where I'd probably be cursed or possessed or something.
I wandered back inside, past Sam and Kenta playing mah jong at the long wooden table in the front room with Rhonda and Annie, and found Maple in the kitchen.
"Whoa." I ducked past a flying pot. Seemed like the entire kitchen was enchanted, pots and pans and spoons and—eep—a knife flew past my head, being magically scrubbed, towel dried, and then whisked away to a cupboard or shelf. I sidled up to Maple, who stirred a black kettle over Iggy's cooking flame in the walk-in hearth. "It's like a war zone in here." I bent low and closed my eyes as I took a deep breath of the soup she stirred. "Mmm."
She grinned at me. "Mushroom and rice—I'm trying a new recipe."
"We're trying a new recipe." Iggy rolled his eyes as he munched on a log. "How much longer is this going to take?"
She ignored him and muttered, "Jiji is so tidy everywhere else." She made an annoyed noise in the back of her throat. "Why does she let the kitchen get so dirty?"
Ah. That explained the flying dishes.
I leaned against the wall beside the alcove that held Maple's cauldron suspended over Iggy's flames. "So I just saw Hank slink out of here and down the road. He looked really suspicious."
"Hm?" Maple reached behind her, grabbed a handful of coarse salt from a bowl, and tossed it into the soup.
"He's up to something—you wouldn't know anything about that, would you?"
"Hm?" She looked up and suddenly my words registered. "Oh!" Her cheeks blushed bright pink and she dropped her gaze back to the soup. "No. I don't know anything."
I grinned. Bingo. It's why I'd come to Maple—zero poker face. I nudged her arm. "Nothing?"
She shook her head quickly.
"Maybe he and Horace are running away together?" Iggy cackled.
I grinned and tried again. "Because if you did know something, I'm sure you, my best friend in the whole world—"
"You're on dangerous ground," Iggy growled.
"My best female friend in the whole world—"
"Better." Iggy chomped on a log.
"—would definitely tell me, right?"
"Yep," Maple squeaked.
"Spill it!"
Maple whirled on me and held up her palms in surrender. "I don't know anything!" Her cheeks and neck had turned pink and blotchy.
I folded my arms and grinned at her. "Fibber. Come on—tell me. Please." Maybe if I whined it would help.
I tried for the next few minutes, but Maple held strong—which was really unlike her. Finally, annoyed and more curious than ever, I gave up and wandered back out to the garden to do the weeds. Which, with the finding spell and the uprooting spell, really wasn't too much work.
The rest of the afternoon passed quickly, and Hank returned some time later. We all gathered around the table as twilight fell, fireflies and moths and fairies flitting about the garden. Maple's soup was delicious, though I noted that no one seemed to meet my eye. And the table was unusually quiet—except for Iggy and Rhonda, who chattered enough for everyone. Hank pushed back from the table first. "Please excuse me."
"Where are you—"
He didn't even look at me as he dashed off upstairs. What the what? Jiji stood next. "Imogen, can you help me clean up in the kitchen?"
I lifted a brow. After Maple's tornado of cleaning, I was shocked anything might be dirty. Well, besides the bowls we’d eaten out of, and those would only take a moment for a spell to breeze through. "Uh… sure."
My friends kept their eyes on their bowls as I stood. All except Misaki's little sister, Fumi, who grinned broadly at me until Misaki, beside her, elbowed her hard, knocking the mirth right off her face. I frowned. What was going on with everyone? As I entered the kitchen, I glanced over my shoulder to find the entire silent table watching me. As soon as I caught them, their eyes all darted down to their bowls.
"Go already!" Iggy waved me on.
Frowning, I found the kitchen mostly tidy, though Jiji pointed out some stains in the sink she wanted me to scrub out. I had my doubts, but summoned some magic from the glowing em
bers of the fire and set the stiff brush to work with some white bar soap.
It only took a minute or two to get the sink spotless, so Jiji had me refold all the kitchen towels and fabric napkins, then polish the silverware. Fifteen minutes later, I and my magic had got the kitchen shining and spotless. I turned around to ask Jiji what she wanted next, but found the kitchen empty.
"Jiji?"
I listened, but no answer came. "Jiji?" I wandered down the hall to the front room. "Has anyone seen—" The table sat empty, all my friends gone. I frowned and raised my voice. "Hello? Where is everybody?"
"Outside!" Wiley's voice drifted in through an open window.
Okaaay…. I wandered out onto the front porch. Glowing gold and green orbs flitted amongst the trees, and the magic toadstools glowed purple and red. White paper lanterns strung from the porch glowed, casting a soft light over the lush, dark garden. I blinked, my eyes adjusting, but still I didn't see anyone.
"Out back!" Yann's booming voice called.
I headed right to the side of the house and opened the low bamboo gate, then latched it behind me. I walked under the roses that climbed the arching trellises between the side of the house and the stone wall of the property. When I rounded the corner and stepped into the back courtyard, my breath caught.
I pressed a hand to my mouth. "What—what is this?"
My friends stood in a semicircle facing an enormous white tent hung with colorful bunting and string lights. Maple, humming, turned to me and waved. Tears filled her eyes and as she looked at me she burst into a half sob, half laugh.
I rushed forward across the soft grass. "Are you okay?"
She nodded and kept humming. Yann, Wiley, and Annie held their wands aloft, as did Sam, Kenta, Misaki, Jun, Fumi, and Jiji. Cat and Jiji's white cat streaked across my path, playing.
"What are you—" I spotted Rhonda, and Francis hovering beside her, their eyes focused on the tent, and suddenly it clicked. "You guys are doing this? The tent?"
Wiley chuckled. "Go in already!"
The enormous white tent glowed from inside, and as I stepped up to the flaps, Horace strode out. I gasped.
"Sister." He bowed his head and stepped to the side.
"What are you doing here? What's—"
He shook his head. "Go in—you'll see."
54
A Question
I lifted my brows and turned to look at Maple. She smiled, tears pouring down her cheeks. My friends and Horace—together? And they were all okay with this?
My heart pounding in my chest, I stepped inside the tent and gasped. I pressed my hands to my mouth as tears welled in my eyes, and took it all in. Tables with butcher block countertops sat spaced out around the tent, and stone-lined spaces below formed ovens. It was the baking tent—our baking tent, from the competition. I walked through the stations. Bern had been there, Lillian there, and Zeke there. I found my station. Iggy burned in his lamp atop it.
"Iggy." I rushed up to him and lifted the lantern to face height. "Iggy, what is all this?"
He eyed me a moment. "You'll see soon enough." He glanced around. "Weird, isn't it?"
I nodded and turned. Maple had been back there, and Hank just beside her. I bit my lip. He'd looked different back then, in his disguise, but it had still been him. I smiled, thinking of the butterflies I'd gotten around him. He still made me feel that way. I turned to Iggy. "Where's Hank?"
He blinked. "Who?"
I shot him a look and he rolled his eyes toward the back of the tent. "Check the pantry."
Grinning, I carried Iggy to the back of the glowing tent and stepped into the small, dark alcove. Iggy's orange flames fluttered over the shelves lined with jars of spices and bags of flour and sugar. Hank stood inside, his eyes wide and glassy in the firelight. And, just like in the competition, he ducked his tall frame to avoid the hanging dried flowers and roots above.
"Imogen."
"Hank."
I stepped up to him and he gently took Iggy's lantern from me and hung it from a hook at the ceiling.
He took my hands in his big, warm ones and looked down at me. His hands trembled.
"What is all this?" My heart felt like it had grown three sizes, my chest tight and my emotions about to burst and overflow.
Hank's throat bobbed and his deep blue eyes searched my face. "We've been banished here, to the Badlands, and I've lost my title and my home, and I've been struggling to feel like I have anything left to offer you."
I frowned. "Uh… you're scaring me."
He smiled and shook his head. "Sorry. I'm nervous."
Nervous? I lifted a brow. I wasn't sure I'd ever seen Hank nervous before.
"But I think this time at the beach and hearing Miss Sara's story has made me realize that even someone who goes from rags to riches, or in my case"—he grinned—"riches to rags, is still the same person inside. I'm still me, and you're still you."
He squeezed my hands.
"And in fact, when we first met and almost had our first kiss in this pantry—"
Heat rushed to my cheeks and I grinned up at him.
"I was wearing a disguise."
"And a bloody bad one at that!"
I looked over my shoulder. Horace's voice carried through the thin fabric of the tent. "As a fellow swallow I'm ashamed. It's a testament to your family's dislike of you that all it took was a crooked nose and a pointed chin for them not to recognize you."
I bit my lip and looked up at Hank to gauge his reaction. He pressed his eyes shut for a moment, but the corner of his mouth tugged into a grin. He looked down at me again. "But it didn't matter. You saw right through me."
"Psh. Like it was hard," Iggy muttered above us.
Hank licked his lips. "And even though I entered the competition determined to keep to myself, lest anyone discover who I was, you drew me out—I couldn't help myself."
Ooh. Some of those emotions were starting to overflow. Tears tracked down my cheeks.
"You muddled my head until I ruined my bakes." He grinned. "Yes, I blame you."
I smiled through my tears.
"I blame your lack of focus," Rhonda chimed in from outside. "You should have been watching your bowl, not the hot number in front of you. Ow ow!"
"Guys!" Hank pinched the bridge of his nose, then looked up and called to everyone outside. "I'm trying to propose here."
"Oh sea snakes!" My legs buckled, and Hank dove forward to catch me. He hauled me back up and I clutched his arms, gaping up at him. "You're proposing?"
"Not the quickest whisk in the kitchen, are you?" came Iggy's voice from overhead.
But I only had eyes for Hank.
He grinned. "You okay if I let go?"
I nodded, though I wasn't entirely sure that was true. He released me and dropped to one knee, pulling a small black box from his pants pocket. I pressed my hands to my mouth. Bits of dried flower petals stuck in his dark hair. "I've been wanting to propose for a long time now—"
"But you were engaged to someone else for a while?" Iggy sniped.
"Shut it!" I gasped.
A flock of startled birds cried out and took flight outside the tent, their wings flapping loudly. Oops. Maybe I'd overdone it a little there.
Hank chuckled. "I know this might not be the right time, but I don't know how much longer we'll be here. And honestly, I don't much care where I am, as long as you're with me." He opened the box to reveal a glittery ring inside. "Imogen Banks, you are the funniest, brightest, and bravest person I've ever met. You see the truth of things, even when I'm too hardheaded to. And I want to be right by your side, always. You have made me a better, happier human, and if you will do me the great honor of marrying me, I will strive, every day, to do the same for you. I will be your partner in every adventure, from battling monsters to perfecting that blueberry pancake recipe. Whatever life throws our way, or more likely, whatever trouble you drag us into"—he winked—"I want to be right in the thick of it with you. Imogen, I love you. I loved you bef
ore and I love you now and when I'm old and wrinkly, I'll still love you. Will you be my wife?"
I sobbed and tears poured down my face. I nodded and managed to gasp, "Yes." It felt so strange, him kneeling down there. I grabbed his arms, dragged him to his feet, and looked up into his beaming face. I'd never seen him smile so wide. I pulled his face to mine and kissed him. And as he wrapped his arms around me, I'd never felt lighter. My whole body tingled with joy.
When I opened my eyes and pulled back from him, I found that his cheeks were as wet with tears as mine were.
"Oh!" I looked around. The tent was gone, and Iggy hung from the branch of a cherry tree. It had all just been a magical illusion cast by my friends, new and old, working together.
Maple rushed up to me and threw her arms around me. We spun together while Wiley shook Hank's hand.
"Congratulations, man!"
"Let's see the ring," Annie gushed as she strode up to me.
Oh, yeah. I hadn't put it on yet.
"Oops." Cheeks pink, Hank pulled the ring from the dark box and slid it onto my finger. My friends gathered around and clapped and cheered. Annie grabbed my hand, and she, Rhonda, and Fumi pored over the ring.
"Ooh. Sparkly." Rhonda winked at me.
I looked down at it. It suited me perfectly. A simple gold band with an oval-cut diamond. Pretty and simple. As I looked closer, a green light swirled through the stone, followed by another. Huh. Never seen a diamond do that before. I looked up at Hank, a question in my eyes.
He grinned, his eyes bright and face flushed with happiness. "The favor I asked of your brother? Well, I meant to just ask him to come and be a part of the proposal. I intended to ask you the day we got back from Umiru."
I lifted my brows as I looked from Hank to Horace, who now stood beside me. My chin trembled as I fought back tears. Hank had put aside his misgivings about Horace and invited him to be here—because he knew that's what I'd want. "Thank you," I murmured. Though I suspected those misgivings were diminishing anyway.
"But he was kind enough to offer something else." Hank nodded toward my brother.