“What?”
“I need to head into town, but my car’s at my cottage.”
“I’ll fly you.”
“But I need to bring things back, big things…”
A shrug lifts my shoulders, rustling my wings. “I’ll put them in my storage pocket.”
“Exactly how big is it?” She eyes me, and her fingers dip into the small pocket sewn to the front of her turquoise dress. “You keep saying ‘pocket,’ but I can barely get my phone in mine, let alone something larger.”
With an amused snort, I reach into my storage pocket and send a pulse of magic. My request is nebulous instead of specific, as I ask for something large. Cool metal smacks against my palm, and I pull out a suit of armor. “Oh, excellent. I forgot to add this to my other trophies.”
“Trophies?” Skye asks.
“There was a time when humans regularly sent knights to ‘slay the dragon.’” My voice drips with contempt. “It became so tiresome we eventually made a sport of defeating them, seeing who could collect the most trophies.”
“So all those suits of armor lining the hallway are…?”
“My trophy collection.” I shoot her a puzzled glance. “Why else would I keep them?”
“I don’t know… castle ambiance?”
“Mytrophiesdocreate ambiance. They let every visitor know exactly how powerful I am in battle.”
Princess Buttercup walks over and sniffs at the armor’s metal feet. After a desultory swat at one, which does nothing more interesting than echo hollowly, she mews at me in complaint.
“She wants to know if you have anything better.”
I meet the cat’s amber gaze. “Define ‘better.’”
The little witch listens to a series of meows. Laughter dances in her eyes as she says, “Princess Buttercup demands cat toys.”
I frown down at the feline, trying to think of anything that might do.
Skye sidles close, her sweet and spicy scent teasing my nose. A hand on my shoulder pulls me down, so she can whisper, “It doesn’t have to be fancy. She actually really likes string or balls of paper.”
This time when I reach into my pocket, I send a magical request for a discarded piece of parchment. After making sure it is indeed nothing important, I ball it in my fist.
The crinkling sound makes Princess Buttercup’s ears perk up. She crouches, ready to pounce, eyes watching me avidly. When I toss it across the room, she dashes after it, and her first paw swipe sends the light ball sliding away, ready to be pounced on again.
Skye’s rosebud mouth stretches in a happy smile. “Thank you.”
“You needn’t thank me,” I grumble. “She reminds me of the playfulness of younglings.”
The little witch’s forget-me-not eyes scour my face. “Youmiss them.” A note of surprised realization rings in her voice.
“I do.” It’s not anything I’ve ever admitted to anyone, so I’m not quite sure why I’m telling her. It makes me uncomfortable, so I stride for the door. “Come, let’s go into town.”
Skye wraps herself in her long winter coat, and I wrap her in my arms, stoking my internal fire and warming the area around me as we fly through the crisp, cold air so that she snuggles close.
Snow glints on the forest’s pine trees but has melted from the ground. The warming effect is even greater once we reach downtown Ferndale Falls, Severin’s magic covering the town green in a blanket of warmth that makes the winter grass already show tinges of spring green.
“This won’t take long at all.” She bustles forward as soon as I set her down in front of the library. Once inside the small space, she calls out, “Bumbleboots, are you here?”
In a tingle of magic, a brownie steps out of thin air. “Head Librarian Summers.” He bobs his head. “How may I assist you?”
“I got a notification that the books I ordered arrived.”
