A Wizard's Guide to Defensive Baking

by T. Kingfisher

(The crawfish are the worst. You can get the frogs with a broom, but you have to call a priest in for a zombie crawfish.)

It turned out that my estimate of three hours to get home had been conservative. It took closer to six.

Wtf

Molly was, like me, a very minor wizard, but her talent was even weirder. She could make dead horses walk.

“We’re taking the wainwright’s boy, too, the one who turn rocks into cheese. You should come with us, too.”

Aww

“You’ll see,” she said, sniffing. She sounded maliciously pleased about something. “All you people’ll see soon enough.”

I’ll be honest with you, I wet myself a little when he giggled.

On the run for my life and fretting over a sourdough starter.

Molly understood, though. When you spend most of your time with a dead horse, you learn to respect other people’s weird pets.

You wouldn’t think that you could be hungry after someone tried to kill you. You’d be wrong.

It was no wonder people like Spindle and Knackering Molly were paranoid, but I was a respectable citizen. The constables were there to protect me.

Oh honey

If you have ever tried to stay afloat on a pair of magic bread slices, then you know what it was like. Otherwise, all I can say is that I don’t recommend it.

You’d think he’d never seen anybody ride bread before.

“That’ll set the cat among the pigeons,”

It seemed like once you agreed that the government could put you on a list because of something you were born with, you were asking for trouble.

If I was going to get thrown in the dungeon, at least I was going to leave a trail of quality pastries behind me.

When you’re different, even just a little different, even in a way that people can’t see, you like to know that people in power won’t judge you for it.

Why couldn’t she have been like this before any of this happened? Why had it taken two kids and a wizard so old he could barely stand to make her find her courage?

“I cannot tell you, my friends, how grateful I am for your loyalty. In these times, it is the only coin in our kingdom of any worth, and I thank you, from the bottom of my heart.”

You expect heroes to survive terrible things. If you give them a medal, then you don’t ever have to ask why the terrible thing happened in the first place. Or try to fix it.”

“You didn’t fail,” I said. “They wouldn’t let you succeed. It’s different.”

“Oh, her.” Aunt Tabitha sniffed. “I don’t think much of her.” From Aunt Tabitha, this was the equivalent of being consigned to the blackest depths of the abyss.

Aunt Tabitha’s biscuits have always been better than mine. She says I work the dough too much and then rely on magic to fix it.

“He’s a sourdough starter. I guess…well, yeah, that’s the sort of familiar I’d have.”

Lol

I implore you, leave no stone unturned in your efforts to save our city. Do not be bound by what seems foolish or impossible.

wiped my face. I was so angry I was crying. Spindle stood next to me, his arms on the blocky stones of the battlements, and his face was the same as when he’d found Tibbie’s bracelet in the bakery. The gingerbread man hid his face in my hair.

Theyre kids

One of the cookies picked up a mixing spoon and bashed the cookie next to it over the head.

Lmao

“Did you have to make him smile, Aunt Tabitha?” I asked. “I thought it might make him look more friendly.” “He’s supposed to be trampling Carex mercenaries!”

Where the heck is Spindle?

Awww noo

“Are they doing the can-can?” asked Harold in disbelief. “Battle can-can,” said the Duchess wisely. “Very old tactical maneuver. Used to defeat the waltzing berserkers of West Quillmark, as I recall.”

The enemy warrior clearly had no idea what to make of the berserk woman charging at him, with her housedress flapping madly over her jingling armor.

“I expect this won’t be your last set of medals, my dear. Heroism is an unfortunate habit.”