Tangled

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312 Lisa: Elverly's Seasonings

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LISA

"So, this is the face," I explain, pointing to my crude circle. "And these are buttons on the side for different functions." I add a few lumps to represent the buttons. The Grand Sage peers at my drawing, stroking his beard thoughtfully. "I see. And you believe we could adapt something like this for magical communication?" "Maybe?" I shrug, feeling a bit self-conscious about my suggestion now that I've said it out loud. "I mean, I don't know much about magic. It was just an idea." He nods slowly, his eyes still fixed on my terrible sketch. "You know, Lisa, your idea has some merit. The compact size would certainly be an advantage. Of course, I'd need to acquire some of these watches to see what I could do with them, but it's an intriguing concept." A warm flush of pride spreads through my chest at his words. It's nice to feel like I've contributed something useful, especially when I often feel so out of my depth in this magical world.

A strange scratching sound comes from the door, startling me out of my warm glow. I glance at the Grand Sage, who looks equally puzzled.

"I'll get it," I offer, pushing away from the table.

As I approach the door, the scratching intensifies, sounding distinctly impatient. Curious, I turn the handle and pull the door open.

To my surprise, Selene slinks into the room, her silver fur gleaming in the dim light. Ice-blue eyes meet mine before she pads past me, walking straight toward the older gnome, where they stare at each other in silence. Probably mind-reading each other or something. Elverly gives an exasperated sigh, grabbing for a washcloth and wiping the floor. Muddy paw prints trail behind Selene, leaving the marks of her presence. "Walking into a home, leaving it a mess. I'd never have a dog as a pet. Too much time spent cleaning up after them."

"Some people don't mind the mess. But Selene isn't a dog. She's a proper wolf and the Westwood

Pack Luna now."

them, her ascerbic words even throwing Selene off guard. The husky raises a paw, leaning her head down to sniff at

a little more understanding." -Elverly's scowl

of politeness as she curtsies. It's like watching a cat try to

she intones, her voice

312 Lisa: Elverly's Seasonings

the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing. Elverly's delivery? Let's just say she'd never make it as an

abruptly as she stomps over, each step punctuated by a soft thud of her gnomish feet. "You," she

my face. "Didn't you say I was

turning towards the kitchen. "You're getting fat. You aren't

the quality of the

clearly questions my intelligence. "Of course I

during an escape. But then, a memory flashes through my mind-the chaos of our flight, the urgency, the fear. My smile fades as

hasn't heard me. But then she turns, fixing me with those sharp eyes of hers. "And what if I did?"

at

Really?

catch flies," Elverly snaps, turning back to the stove. "And make yourself useful.

where a pile of