Page 4

“When you allow the magic in, you can work with it,” Sage explained. “When you try to control it, it rebels. That’s your first lesson.”

Ollie

“Iwish you’d come to town more often.”

My cousin Ben slid into the dark booth in the back corner of Murphy’s Bar, an overflowing basket of fries in his hand. He pushed the basket across the table, gesturing for me to eat them. He didn’t need to ask me twice. It was Fall and my inner bear was all about the carbs.

“I like my privacy,” I grumbled.

After a career in the military surrounded by people twenty-four seven, I was fully embracing my mountain man era. I’d retired last year and without any place in particular to call home I’d purchased a plot of land outside of Greysden, a town I remembered fondly from the few years we’d lived here when I was a cub.

As an adult I was drawn to its openness to supernatural creatures and the expansive forest that surrounded the town, giving a guy like me plenty of places to shift. It also gave me the privacy I craved, partly because I was a bear and partly because after so many years in the military, I wasn’t totally sure I knew how to be a part of regular society anymore.

Ben and I didn’t know each other growing up -- his mother had kept him away from his father and the entire Murphy clan – but we’d connected when his father died and he inherited the bar. I hadn’t been back to Greysden since I left for the military right after high school graduation, but I’d kept in touch with a couple of people who were quick to connect me and Ben. We’d exchanged a few emails, but we’d only become friends since I moved back here.

I knew Ben wished for more contact than we had, which was why I tried to join him for lunch once a month. It kept me from becoming completely feral.

“Tell him about the Harvest Festival,” Marie said as she walked by with a tray of drinks. The sassy wolf shifter was Ben’s mate, and even though they were about as opposite as could be, they seemed blissfully happy.

We would be happy if we had a mate too, my bear reminded me glumly.

We’re fifty-two years old, I reminded my inner animal. That ship sailed long ago. Not that traveling around the world in the military had given me much of a chance to find a mate. I’d been attached to shifter units most of my career, but I’d never met a single female who made my bear sit up and take notice.

“What Harvest Festival?” I asked.

“This town loves to have its festivals and events,” Ben said, rolling his eyes even though I knew he loved it here. “At the end of September there’s a big harvest festival to kick off the Halloween and Samhain season. It happens right here in the town square. Vendors set up booths along the road and there’s music and dancing and spell craft and games, stuff like that.”

“Definitely not my kind of thing,” I said. “It sounds crowded.”

The more I was away from people, the more antisocial I was becoming.

“There’s also a ton of Fall treats at the festival,” Ben continued. “There are apple pies and taffy and candied squash. And the local honey cooperative has a honey bake-off contest to see who can come up with the most inspired honey treats.”

Honey? Not to be too stereotypical, but I loved honey. And so did my bear. In fact we loved all kinds of treats. We had a sweet tooth, that was for sure, which reminded me I needed to stop off at the diner and get some treats from Mrs. Xenakis. The elderly Greek badger shifter made the best baklava I’d ever tasted.

“When is it?” I asked my cousin.

“This Saturday and Sunday,” he said. “It usually gets going around noon and lasts into the night.”

“I’ll stop by if I can,” I said, surprised to realize that I meant it.

Ben cocked his head. “Did I mention the honey bake-off?”

“You did.”

He smirked. “Great. I’ll look forward to seeing you there. Come find me and I’ll buy you a honey bear claw from the bakery. They’re my favorite.”

For some reason, my bear was immediately obsessed with the idea of going to the festival. He mentioned it about once an hour for the next few days which was weird because my bear was usually pretty quiet unless something stressful was happening. I took him for a long run through the woods Saturday morning, trying to take the edge off his energy, but still I found myself compelled to head into town on Saturday afternoon.

After a short debate I decided to run there rather than take my truck. No doubt parking would be scarce in Greysden’s tiny downtown area, and my restless bear could use more exercise. I packed a bag with clothes, shoes, and my wallet, then shifted into my bear form. I stayed perfectly still for a few seconds, tuning into the environment and enjoying the enhanced senses I had in this form. I could smell every animal in the vicinity as well as the sweet smell of fruit and leaves dropping from trees and starting to decay.

Save your appetite for the festival, I told my bear as he picked up my bag in his teeth and started trotting down the mountain in the direction of the festival.

My bear ran at a fast pace, something he rarely did. He was more of an ambler but his excitement about the festival was pushing him to move his furry butt more quickly. We reached town in record time, stopping at the entrance to the woods so I could shift back into my human form and get dressed.

“That way,” my bear urged, directing me towards the far side of the park area that ran parallel to Main Street.

Sticking to the edge of the crowd I walked past a series of booths, remembering how much fun it had been when I was a kid to play the arcade games with my friends and try to win prizes. I’d almost forgotten what it was like to be that carefree.