Chapter 157
Ken
"Grandma."
She doesn't look up from her packing. Her hands move with practiced efficiency, sorting herbs and potions into bundles, wrapping them in cloth, tucking them into the bag at her feet.
The kitchen smells like rosemary and something older, something that's been brewing for decades.
She's been expecting me.
"Hush now." Her voice is steady, matter-of-fact. "That's why I sent you to him."
I watch her work. This kitchen hasn't changed since I was a child. The same worn wooden table. The same crooked window overlooking the garden. The same pots hanging from the ceiling, blackened from years of use.
She catches me looking and smirks.
"Besides, it's not too bad. The spirits told me about the elf." She wiggles her eyebrows.
I groan. Of course the spirits told her. They tell her everything.
She laughs and it's a dry, wheezing sound and goes back to her packing.
