Chrysopoeia

Chapter 2 - No Stone Unturned

The silverware clinked onto the table as Cassia dropped each set at its place. Porridge sputtered on the stove, wispy steam swirling into the air. Grimmy, Crumple, and the tabby Mungo all mewed on the floor, impatiently waiting for their own breakfast. Bones, a black and white cat, perched from the cabinet top, glaring at them all like a vulture.

Cassia's siblings were all grown and gone, so the table had more than enough room for the remaining family, taking up too much space in the kitchen.

Cassia plunked a spoon beside an empty bowl, Mungo curling around her leg. She reached down and scratched his ears.

"Cassia, be gentle when setting the table," Nan chided. "And don't pet the cats either. You'll get dirt on the food."

"Sorry, Nan." She wiggled her way between the table and cabinet, and Bones hissed at her. "I love you too, Bonesy."

"Here, take it." Nan handed her the kettle of porridge.

Cassia hefted the kettle onto a hot pad beside an open tin of red herrings. While Nan wasn't looking, she slipped one into her mouth and another below the table for whichever cat got it first. Grandad shuffled into the little kitchen and took a great sniff, his glasses perched right on the edge of his nose.

"Well, doesn't it smell like a good morning in here?" He kissed Cassia's head as she passed with a pitcher of milk.

"Good morning, Grandad," she said.

"Harold, sweetheart," Nan said, "could you please wait in the sitting room until it's ready? It's tight enough in here as it is."

"It is ready," Cassia said. "Sorry, Nan."

Nan turned her glare to the apples on her cutting board. "Cassia, put the cats outside and then go get everyone."

Cassia took a bowl of tripe from the icebox and squeezed her way out the backdoor, a tangle of cats weaving around her ankles. She petted them each as they swarmed the bowl, except for Bones, who kept his distance until Cassia left.

Rather than fighting her way through the kitchen, she went through the side door, then through the sitting room and up the stairs to her parents' room.

"It's ready," she said.

Her mum, Leigh, stood at the window, pouring water from her wand onto the flowers spinning happily on the sill. The sunlight caught the stream's surface, sending a shimmering reflection dancing onto the wall.

She smiled at Cassia. "Thanks, dear."

"Where's Dad?"

"Out in the fields already. Don't worry, I'll get him."

"Thanks, Mum."

Across the hall, in her brother Myrick's old room, Sebastian lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling. Cassia clapped a hand on the wall, startling him.

"Hey, you. Sorry. Breakfast is ready."

He peeled himself from the bed and walked heavily with Cassia down the stairs.

"Did you get any sleep at all last night?" She asked.

"Not even a bit."

Cassia tsked. "No sleeping potions left?"

"I suppose not."

"Mum'll take care of that. I'd do it myself, but, you know."

The kitchen was even more crowded than before. Her Dad, Albert, stood in the backdoor, kicking mud off his boots while the cats trotted inside once more, nearly tripping Nan as she set a loaf of bread on the table. Mum caught the falling loaf with a wave of her wand, her brows furrowed in irritation. Meanwhile, Grandad sat at his place, elbows on the table and chin resting on his folded hands, patiently watching it all.