A pair of shifters, whose eyes are a striking shade of electric green, converse near me in the hallway. I do not intend to eavesdrop, but my hearing is too sensitive to fully ignore them.
“Did you ever hear about that fae who was caught at a school playground in Boston trying to trick young witch children into injuring their classmates with a dangerous spell? Somehow breaking their bones? Pure evil. It happened about a decade ago,” one of the shifters says, sounding disgusted.
“I did.” The other shifter shudders. “It hid in the shadows, away from the adults. Another kid saw something moving in the dark and alerted a group of magick-wielding teachers who chased it off. Who knows what would have happened if it wasn’t caught?”
“Knowing what horrible things they’re capable of, why would anyone bring one here? How could anyone want to spoil this place with violence? It’s a little slice of paradise,” the first one remarks.
The second one snorts. “Ashes, it’s always these crusty old warlocks making trouble for everyone. That male, the really speciesist one, threw his fool hat in the wrong ring. He could have been the hero of Monstera Bluff, warning them of a fae threat, leading the charge to protect his town. Moon and stars, they’d have thrown a parade in his honor! Put his likeness in front of town hall!”
The first one chuckles darkly. “Nah, they’re all the same. A warlock isn’t going to save anything. They choose to be villains. His cronies fell into step because they’re the same breed ofhateful little malcontent. They’d rather watch the world burn and then try to rule over its ashes.”
Their offhand remarks hit home. This town was close to ruin. It was a stroke of luck that there were no casualties other than the town’s innocence. The shock will fade in time and townsfolk will feel safe again. But Ada will not be able to move on until her magick returns. I need to see that she recovers with my own eyes. I do not care about these meetings beyond seeking justice for her.
I will make sure that fae gets exactly what it deserves after I work out how to restore Ada’s magick. There will be no mercy. I will not leave until both are done. On instinct, I stretch my claws wide, ready for the fight. But now is not the time. By the bluest glacier, I will be ready when it is. My resolve is ice cold. And that damned disgusting fae will rue the day it came to Monstera Bluff.
Chapter 7
Ada
My damp cheeks dry in the sun as I walk away from town hall. I need to put all of this behind me, in every sense, because crying in front of an audience wasn’t the least bit cathartic. Ashes, emotions are overrated.
Walt and Acton invited me to lunch today. I suppose there’s no point in hiding out anymore, so I agreed. After a few blocks of distance between me and that hurrah’s nest I left behind, I finally send a text to them saying I’ll be at The Roaring Wood a little early and there’s no need to rush out the door if they’re not ready yet. Lately, Acton is planting a veritable rain forest on their property. Even for a dryad living in a humid subtropical climate, it’s proven challenging to achieve his exacting vision. Walt texts back that Acton is just finishing up outside and they’ll leave in a few minutes.
My eyes roll when I realize I’m still carrying those croissants from Norrell. I’m tempted to drop them in a garbage can along the street, but I don’t have the heart to do that to these edible flaky masterpieces. Walt may want one. They’re absolute perfection as always except for the fact they were purchased by a heartless excuse of a male. He deserves to go in the trash, not the croissants. I won’t let him taint my favorite breakfast.
The Roaring Wood is already bursting at the seams with a lunch crowd. But I appreciate how lively it makes the place. The interior always cheers me up, which I sorely need right now. Living vines and branches weave across the ceiling, and the tables are cut from wide logs showing their rings, resembling stumps in the ground. Colorful details like boldly patterned pillows on the wicker chairs and bright murals on the walls provide playful touches. The hostess, Talullah, a nereid who lives along the beach, runs out from behind her podium and throws her arm around me in an overly tight hug me.
“Oh, Ada. You’re a sight for sore eyes. I wasn’t sure if I should call you, but I didn’t want to seem like I was sticking my nose in your beeswax,” she exclaims. She abruptly releases me and steps back to look me over with probing eyes. “How are you feeling? You look good. But I know that may not mean anything. Well, we were all just so devastated that you and your human friend were attacked by that fae. I would never have fathomed one of those things showing up here. You are so courageous for fighting it off.”
Offering a dazed smile, I respond, “Thank you, Tallulah, truly. I’m feeling just fine but I’m still dealing with the loss of my magick. It’s been a long week. And those meals you and the team sent over were just wonderful. The last thing I wanted to do was cook, so they were exactly what I needed.”
“I’m so glad to hear that. Let us know if you need anything else. I mean it. We care about you,” she insists.
“That means a lot, thank you.” And it does. Everyone here is so gracious.
“Listen to me rattle on. You’re here for a reason. Let me take you to a table,” she titters melodiously as she ushers me through the restaurant that’s reminiscent of a whimsical picnic in the woods.
She leads me to a table that will be the perfect size for the three of us. I settle into my tall wicker seat and close my eyes for a minute. The chatter of everyone around me, going about their day, calms me in a way I had been craving. Holing up in my house all week, with only a few exceptions, maybe wasn’t my brightest idea, but it was the best I could do at that moment. Sometimes grief makes irrational decisions.
“Who do we have here? Why I believe it’s sleeping beauty!” Walt’s voice proclaims from next to the table. I grin toward the direction it came from and dramatically blink my eyes open.
“My princes are here! I won’t lie and say I wasn’t close to nodding off,” I admit as I stand up and hug them both. “Sleeping almost won out over lunch, so you know I’m exhausted!”
“Let’s order you a coffee, then,” he frets, looking around for a server.
“I’ll be okay but thank you. Do you think you’d want some raspberry chamomile croissants for later? I have extra from this morning.” I dangle the pink bag on my finger. He seems hypnotized by it.
“Well, I may take one or two for the road,” he answers demurely.
The three of us sit down and a server comes over to fill our water glasses and take our order. We dine here frequently enough that we only need a cursory glance at the menu just to see the specials. The staff remember our preferences, which often comes in handy like when they delivered a few meals to me last week.
Walt leans in close, studying my cardigan. “Is that Estelle’s brooch? I remember her wearing it long ago. It looks stunning on you.”
I move my fingers across it. “I wanted her close to me today.”
“How did it go this morning? Did your old friend take it easy on you?” Walt’s expression looks concerned.
“He tried.” I sigh loudly. “I was going to cross a mine field regardless. I can still barely breathe a word about it before the waterworks start. I drink calming tonics every day, and they’ve helped. But seeing my parents and grandparents… or images of them…whatever they were, it’s really shaken me up. Made me realize you two are my only living close family. Everyone else is gone.”
