Mother placed the tin of cinnamon on the wood block countertop and peered into my eyes. “It’s only for the day, honey.”
“I know.”
“Noelle,” Mother grabbed my chin. “You are my beautiful girl. You’re not meant for this world, but you sure as Christmas aren’t meant for Ravensong, either.”
I shook my head as I rolled the rectangle of spiced dough into a perfect spiral, then chopped the roll every few inches. “Mother, I’m eighteen. I can handle myself.”
But strangely, my stomach squirmed with new nerves today.
As much as I hated the elves, I was dreadfully curious about them. I just wanted one small, tiny peek of the Elf King. Everyone in the village had seen him. They gushed over his otherworldly beauty and grace, but I’d never seen more than the last of the elves as their parade passed by the bakery. Father always said the big celebration in the square after the parade was a waste of time. He would give our offering of baked goods to the king’s elven servant, then we would go right out to the Moon Forest to get the best Christmas tree before anyone else. Father was always funny about getting the perfect tree.
And two years ago, after father passed away? Mother hid me under layers of giant men’s clothing and forced me to stay in the bakery until all the elves were gone. What did the Elf King look like? Was he as handsome as the villagers claimed?
Mother raised an eyebrow, and I almost squeaked. My face heated as I got back to work.
If Mother could read my thoughts, she’d lock me up in the cellar until nightfall.
I placed the dough spirals onto greased trays and put them into the warming oven to proof, holding my hands in the heat a bit longer than usual. Warmth spread through me.
Mother dipped her wooden spoon into the softened cheese and whipped it with white sugar and vanilla, but turned as a familiar knock sounded on the back door.
“Looks like our egg delivery is here.” Mother wagged her eyebrows and sauntered through the shop door to set up for theday, swishing her ample hips deliberately. “Tell Sammypoo hello for me.”
I rolled my eyes and pulled open the back door, letting in a burst of cold autumn air. A familiar pair of bright green eyes stood well over six feet high on the other side. “Hey Sam, you can put the eggs over there.”
I motioned to the only open spot on the wooden countertop.
“Hey ‘Elle.” Sam bustled into the kitchen, covering the distance in three giant strides. I swear he’d gotten larger every time I’d seen him this past month. He placed the baskets of eggs on the counter and held a bluebell out to me. “Found this down by the bridge. I think it’s the last flower of the year.”
He looked at me with such giant green eyes, my stomach dipped. He knew I loved bluebells. I took the offering. “Thank you. You always remember. You’re such a great friend.”
He was my friend. My only friend, really. There was a time when we were both sixteen, and he wanted to be more. Then I lost my father, and Sam? He was there for me in a way that cemented us together as inseparable. Though he was tall and handsome with his auburn hair and brilliant green eyes, he was like a loyal brother to me, and I loved him fiercely.
“So, anything new?” I weighed the cold butter for the next batch of cinnamon rolls.
“You mean you didn’t hear?” Sam’s eyes flashed. He knew I hadn’t heard anything yet. It was barely dawn.
I smacked him on his giant shoulder. “Out with it!”
“Well, there are rumors of wild animals slipping through the Falls.” Sam raised his eyebrows and voice to match. “Livestock and crops being torn apart.”
“What? That’s horrible.” My heart pounded in my chest as I mixed the next batch of dough.
“The Hendersons lost three cows just last week.” Sam grabbed an egg and tossed it lightly in the air.
“I heard about that,” I said absently.
“Well, did you hear that just last night, half the Bitner’s crop of corn was ripped through by some kind of savage beast?”
“Do they think it was a creature from the Falls?” I rolled out the dough, my head spinning. The Bitner’s field was right next to the Barrow’s barren lands. Right next to the border between human and elf realms.
Sam shrugged, ever the dramatic. “They say Farmer Bitner saw it. He says it was a black creature with eyes like the moon. Teeth the size of daggers.”
“Sounds like a fairytale.” I blew at a strand of hair falling out of my hat. I didn’t want to imagine it.
“Like a nightmare.” Sam placed the egg back in the basket. “If you ask me, the Bitners ought to move a little closer to town. Your mother seems to be the only sensible person here.”
“Why? Because she dresses me up like a boy every year?” I rerolled my giant sleeves. “You know how I hate wearing my father’s old clothes.”
