CHAPTER 1
PRIMROSE
The Moonshine Hollow farmers market was a feast for the senses. The long, narrow wooden building filled with countless stalls, selling everything from local honey to soaps to magical herbs, was always bustling. The smells of fresh-baked breads, ripe strawberries and peaches, fresh-squeezed lemonade, the tang of cheeses, and the subtle perfume of wildflowers filled the space. While I frequented the market, today I was there for a very special event. Opening the clasp on my locket watch, I noted the time. At eleven, the market would close, and then the festivities would begin.
I eyed the other vendors, conspirators in my plot, all of whom smiled at me knowingly.
Today, Helgatha Berrybuckle, the pie lady, as we all affectionately called the silver-haired dwarf, was retiring. She had baked her very last pie and was ready for a rest. As I eyed her stand, I noticed she didn’t have a single pie left. Her red-and-white gingham table cover fluttered in the breeze, no pies remaining to weigh it down. Community members paused to shake her hand and wish her well, then seemingly wandered off.
But I knew where they were really going.
Trying to be as inconspicuous as possible, I passed her by and made my way to the far end of the market. Behind me, the doors of the meeting hall were closed, but I could hear the voices within. I grinned.
So far, Helgatha seemed oblivious.
I had set the perfect whimsical trap.
Looking at my watch once more, I counted down the seconds as we reached eleven.
As we had planned, Witch Argarelle was in place with Helgatha just as the market came to a close.
3… 2… 1…
A chime sounded the end of the market for the day, and then…
The vendors, standing before their stalls, called out in unison, “Happy retirement, Helgatha!”
I snapped my fingers, and a swirl of golden light manifested in the rafters, and a moment later, flower petals came falling down, drifting onto our beloved pie lady.
Helgatha smiled broadly and lifted her hands, catching the petals as others fell onto her silver hair or landed in her long beard.
From the opposite end of the market, the crowd appeared, Helgatha’s favorite tavern band at the front. I had trailed the piemaker for weeks, trying to figure out all her favorites…her favorite foods, music, drinks, and all. The band, which played at the tavern named Pig and Piper, always had her toe tapping. A fiddler, accordion player, drummer, rubboard player, and a dwarven musician playing hammers, led the crowd to Helgatha. Helgatha’s eyes grew wide when Bognakk, Zognakk, Gronakk, and Drognakk, the four orcish metalsmith brothers, appeared carrying a litter. A quilt-covered chair adorned with pillows and flowers awaited.
I stepped forward, meeting the brothers as they lowered the litter before Helgatha.
“What is all this?” she asked, looking about in wonder.
“Helgatha Berrybuckle, your chariot awaits to take you to your retirement party,” I said, extending my hand to help her to the chair. “May these burly gentlemen give you a ride?”
“My stars! A party? Who did all this?”
“Everyone,” I told her, kissing her cheek. “All your friends here at the market and so many friends in Moonshine Hollow. All of us who love our pie lady,” I said, helping her into the seat. Once she was settled, I set a crown of flowers on her head. “You’re Queen of the Market today.”
“Well, I’ll be,” Helgatha said with a laugh.
I stepped out of the way once she was settled, grinning widely at the scene. With a wave of my hands, an ethereal red carpet unfurled before Helgatha’s litter, leading to the red meeting barn.
“Hold on, Helgatha,” Drognakk called to her, and then the orcs lifted the litter.
The band started playing once more. They made their way to the barn. I followed alongside.
As the musicians’ reel came to a triumphant flourish, I sent a spark to activate my spell, which caused a kaleidoscope of butterflies to appear. The creatures were not real, merely an illusion, but my enchantment worked so that it seemed the ethereal creatures opened the meeting hall doors on cue, revealing the party within.
The moment the doors opened, everyone yelled, “Surprise!”
Helgatha gasped. “What… What is happening?”
“Welcome to your own pie party,” Maybell, the market’s favorite jellys, jams, and preserves witch, called from the door. “For years, you have fed the good citizens of Moonshine Hollow. Today, we repay your kindness,” she said, gesturing inside.
