Even Twobble shut up.
Ardetia whispered, “Ancient place. Older than Stonewick. Older than the first Wards.”
Stella groaned softly. “Do we ever get easy destinations?”
“Never,” Keegan said, his hand finding mine.
Skonk whistled. “We’re going to die.”
Twobble nodded sagely. “Bring snacks to prolong the ordeal.”
Nova leaned on her staff. “We should go soon.”
Frank barked once in agreement.
I clutched Luna’s message.
“Hang on, Luna,” I whispered, knowing so little about this little world I’d become a part of and had wanted to save with every inch of me.
But outside, the mist thickened and inside, the yarn trembled.
The stitched trail glowed brighter, urging us forward before the shadow learned to walk faster when something rustled behind the stack of discounted alpaca yarn.
Twobble froze mid-snack-theft. “What was that?”
Skonk narrowed his eyes. “Probably your conscience. Rare creature. Nearly extinct.”
Before I could tell them both to hush, the entire shelf trembled and a ball of thick plum-colored yarnunraveled itselfin one violent shimmy.
Loops whipped outward like legs, stitched themselves into shape, and…
A yarn foxlet leapt out, if that were such a thing.
I screamed.
Twobble shrieked like a squeaky dog toy.
Skonk bolted behind a display of sparkly sock yarn. “IT HAS EYES! WHY DOES IT HAVE EYES?!”
The little creature blinked up at us with button eyes sewn too beautifully to be comforting and let out the faintest, softest chirping sound like someone flicking a knitting needle against cotton.
Ardetia swept forward, all grace and calm, kneeling before it.
“Oh sweet one,” she breathed, gathering the creature gently as if it were made of spun moonlight instead of worsted wool. “You’re a protective familiar. Luna must have crafted you.”
The yarn foxlet nuzzled her palm.
Bella’s jaw dropped. “We’re taking her with us, right?”
Twobble wiped his eyes. “Only if she promises not to spring out of shelves or eat me.”
I exhaled. “She’s coming. Luna left her here for a reason.”
The little foxlet chirped again readier than we were to find the woman dropping the magical breadcrumbs and possibly leading us to answers we never wanted to uncover.
Chapter Five
By the time dusk started sketching long blue lines across the lane, every sensible voice in my head told me to slow down.
