“Why can’t he talk? It’s not like him to keep his mouth shut this long.”
“Your mom sent his charmed amulet off to her jeweler in Boston. She said she’s going to get it.”
“That’s where she went in such a rush,” he muses.
“Can we focus? Is there any way to prevent the society from closing the tea shop?”
Because that’s apparently what Elias meant by cooperate—cease all commerce and leave the gnomes to exist in complete peace and tranquility, until they embrace their nomadic ways and move on. It could be a few weeks, a couple of months, or even several years. It depends on the gnomes and how comfortable they are.
“I’ll take care of it,” he answers.
“What am I going to do?” I ask. “If I don’t keep the tea shop open, I’ll fail the requirements in my aunt’s will and lose everything.”
“I’m not going to let that happen. I’ll call one of my contacts at the Department of Fae Code and Ethics and see if I can push for a relocation,” Ash promises. “The town can’t afford our crown jewel to be closed again.”
I sniffle, holding back both panicked and touched tears. “That’s a nice thing to say about the tea shop. I’m sure Laverna would have liked that.”
He narrows his eyes. “Don’t cry. You’ve already brought the rain. If you start that, you’ll wash the town right out of Vermont.”
“I’m not.” I sniffle again.
“Kit,” he warns.
I laugh, blinking quickly. When I gain control of myself, I say, “Elias said they won’t do a relocation because the property is fae-owned and there’s little chance of human interaction.”
“The gnomes created a miniature village in the very center of a tourist town. Of course there’s a risk of human interaction.”
I allow myself to feel a tiny glimmer of hope. “I feel like I say this all the time, but thank you for your help.”
He grunts in that cultured way of his, and then he jerks his head toward Rowan, who sits like a very angry tea shop mascot. “What are you going to do about him?”
“We don’t know yet.”
“Ansel isn’t going to steal your magic again, is he?”
“He didn’t steal it the first time, and no. I don’t think so.”
“I think at this point, taking Rowan to Animal Control is a perfectly reasonable solution.”
“Ash,”I say at the same time Rowan screeches.
The councilman chuckles as he heads for the door. “Tell me if you change your mind. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a dozen phone calls to make.”
He closes the door when he goes, leaving me alone with Rowan. I turn to my owl mate, feeling lost and hating that he can’t talk.
“Now what?” I walk to the office and sink into the chair, dropping my head onto the desktop.
Rowan follows me, landing on his perch by the bookcase.
“This was easier when you had your amulet,” I say. “I can’t believe you went two years without it the first time you changed. That must have been really lonely.”
I blink quickly when my eyes grow misty, determined not to “wash away the town.”
Rowan lets out a soft hoo, fluttering his wings, looking helpless. Or maybe I’m just projecting.
“There’s not much we can do right now.” I sigh, sitting up and then looking down at my shorts and flip-flops. I wish I’d been a little more intentional about my outfit this morning. “I should get to work.”
Rowan hoots again, his vocabulary limited.
