Chapter 2—Seamus
I WATCH BELLA THROUGH the window of Moonwake Café, my heart twisting with every movement she makes. Her green hair catches the afternoon sunlight as she laughs with a customer. Even from this distance, I can see the same sparkle in her brown eyes that captivated me the first time we met.
The stone bridge where I’ve stationed myself offers a perfect vantage point of the café. It arches over the small stream that runs through the center of Evershift Haven, its ancient stones worn smooth by centuries of footsteps. I lean against the weathered railing, tracing the intricate Celtic knots carved into the stone. The symbols change with the events and seasons, just like everything else in town.
“You’re a fool, Seamus O’Connell,” I mutter to myself, the words carried away by the gentle spring breeze.
Two years. Two years since I walked away from the only woman I’ve ever truly loved. Two years of regret that gnaws at me every waking moment. I had my reasons—family pressure, tradition, and the expectations that come with being born into one of the oldest leprechaun clans. None of those reasons seem important now when I see the hurt I’ve caused.
A group of pixies flutter past, their gossamer wings catching the sunlight. They whisper among themselves, pointing in my direction. News travels fast in Evershift Haven. By sunset, everyone will know I’m back.
I straighten my emerald green shirt, adjusting the Celtic embroidery at the cuffs. My fingers brush against the empty pouch at my belt that should contain my gold. The theft still stings, not just because of what was taken, but because of what it represents. A leprechaun without his gold is like a dragon without fire—diminished.
The scent of fresh coffee and baked goods wafts from the café, mingling with the earthy smell of the stream below. My stomach rumbles, reminding me I haven’t eaten since morning. I ignore it. Food can wait. Bella can’t.
Heavy footsteps approach from behind, accompanied by the distinctive sound of metal tools clinking together. I don’t need to turn around to know who it is.
“Stalking is frowned upon in polite societies, leprechaun.”
I turn to face Throk Ironheart, the town’s mechanic. The orc towers over me, his green skin a shade darker than mine, marked with intricate tribal patterns. Despite his imposing size, his amber eyes hold a gentle humor.
“It’s not stalking if she knows I’m here,” I say, offering him a half-hearted smile. “How’ve you been, Throk?”
The orc leans against the bridge railing beside me, his massive arms crossed over his broad chest. He’s wearing his usual work clothes—oil-stained overalls with the sleeves torn off, revealing muscular green arms covered in grease.
“Better than you, from the looks of it.” Throk nods toward the café. “You know she’s going to make you suffer, right?”
I sigh, running a hand through my wild red hair. “I deserve it.”
“Yes, you do.” Throk’s bluntness is refreshing. No sugarcoating, just honest truth. “But that doesn’t mean she won’t help you. Bella’s got a good heart, even if she pretends otherwise.”
“I’m counting on it.” I glance at him. “How’s business at Mystical Motors?”
Throk grins, his small tusks protruding slightly. “Booming. Just finished enchanting a 1967 Mustang for a banshee from the next pocket universe over. She wanted it to wail louder than she does.”
I laugh, the sound rusty from disuse. “That must’ve been a challenge.”
“Nothing I couldn’t handle.” He pauses, his expression growing serious. “I’m engaged now.”
This catches me by surprise. “Really? Congratulations. Who’s the lucky person?”
“Suzette Winters. She’s human.” Pride fills his voice. “Lawyer from the human world who stumbled into Evershift Haven. Thought this was some elaborate tourist attraction, and I was in a bodysuit, when she first saw me.”
“A human?” I raise my eyebrows. “That must’ve gone over well with the orc elders.”
Throk shrugs his massive shoulders. “They don’t care about such things. Love doesn’t care about species.”
His words hit close to home. My family’s disapproval of a human witch was what drove me away from Bella in the first place. The ancient leprechaun belief that humans and fae shouldn’t mix had been drilled into me since childhood. “No,” I say softly. “It doesn’t.”
Throk studies me, his amber eyes knowing. “You never got over her, did you?”
I look back toward the café, where Bella is now wiping down tables, her movements quick and efficient. “Not for a single day.”
“I’m not surprised you’re back.” Throk straightens up, adjusting the tool belt around his waist. “The universe has a way of bringing us back to what matters most.”
“The universe also has a way of stealing my gold and leaving cryptic notes,” I mutter.
Throk laughs, a deep rumbling sound that echoes across the water. “That’s Evershift Haven for you. Nothing is ever simple here.” He claps me on the shoulder, nearly knocking me off my feet. “I’ve got to get back to the garage. Good luck with Bella. You’re going to need it.”
As Throk lumbers away, I return my attention to the café. Through the window, I can see Bella’s familiar, Hecate, perched on the counter. The tiny dog is watching me, her fluffy tail swishing back and forth. Even from this distance, I can feel her judgment.
The afternoon wears on as I remain at my post, ignoring the curious glances from passersby. A group of school children—a mix of young witches, fairies, and other magical beings—cross the bridge, pointing and whispering when they spot me. I offer them a small wave, which sends them into fits of giggles.
The scent of lavender and sage says another visitor before I see her. Grizelda Greenwarth, the town’s guardian witch, waddles onto the bridge, her pregnant belly preceding her. Her wild mane of silver-streaked purple hair seems to move with a life of its own, and her pale green skin glows with the special radiance of impending motherhood.
“Seamus O’Connell,” she says, her voice musical. “I thought I sensed your aura back in town.”
I bow slightly, a sign of respect for the descendant of Evershift Haven’s founder. “Grizelda. You’re looking well. Pregnancy suits you.”
She smiles, one hand resting on her swollen belly. “I love it, but it causes problems with my magic sometimes.” Her purple eyes, which glow faintly in the afternoon light, study me intently. “You’re here about your gold.”
It’s not a question. Grizelda has always had an uncanny ability to know things she shouldn’t.
“Yes...and about Bella.”
“Ah.” Grizelda nods sagely. “The two things you value most in this world, and both are currently beyond your reach.”
I wince at her accuracy. “I’m hoping to change that.”
Grizelda’s hair shifts, coiling and uncoiling like snakes. It always does that when she’s thinking deeply. “She won’t make it easy for you, you know. You hurt her badly when you left.”
“I know.” The admission tastes bitter on my tongue.
“Do you?” Grizelda’s eyes flash. “She cried for weeks. The rain in Evershift Haven lasted for a month after you left. The flowers refused to bloom until midsummer.”
Each word is a dagger to my heart. I had no idea my departure had affected the town’s magical ecosystem so profoundly. Bella’s emotions must have been powerful indeed to cause such disruption.
“I didn’t know,” I whisper.
“Of course you didn’t. You were too busy running away.” There’s no malice in Grizelda’s tone, just simple truth. “But you’re here now, and that counts for something.”
A small kick from within her belly makes Grizelda gasp, then laugh. “The baby agrees you deserve a second chance.”
“I hope Bella thinks so too.”
Grizelda pats my arm, her touch warm and comforting. “Just remember, sometimes the things we lose come back to us in unexpected ways.”
With those cryptic words, she continues her waddle across the bridge, humming a tune that makes the flowers along the path bloom as she passes.
The afternoon stretches into evening. The café grows quieter as the day winds down. I watch Bella begin her closing routine of wiping tables, sweeping floors, counting the till. My legs ache from standing so long, but I refuse to move. I need to be here when she leaves.
As the sun begins to set, a new figure approaches the bridge. Zephyr Windwhisper, the air spirit who works as a barista at Moonwake Café, practically floats toward me. His translucent form shimmers in the fading light, his features constantly shifting like clouds in a breeze.
“Planning to take over the bridge troll’s job since he’s taken up ballet?” Zephyr’s voice sounds like wind chimes in a gentle breeze.
I smile despite myself. “Hello to you too, Zephyr.”
The air spirit circles me, his form rippling. “You’ve been standing here all day. Bella noticed, you know. She pretended not to, but she did.”
Hope flares. “Did she say anything about me?”
“Nothing I can repeat in polite company.” Zephyr’s laugh is like a gust of wind through autumn leaves. “But she kept looking out the window when she thought no one was watching.”
I glance toward the café. Through the window, I see Bella counting out the register, her brow furrowed in concentration. Hecate sits nearby, her tiny head tilted as if listening to Bella’s muttered calculations.
“Do you think she’ll help me?” I ask.
Zephyr hovers in front of me, his form condensing slightly so I can see his expression more clearly. “The theft of your gold is no coincidence, Seamus. The universe creates situations to force us to face what we avoid.”
“You sound like Grizelda.”
“Grizelda is wise.” Zephyr drifts toward the edge of the bridge. “And so is Bella. Don’t mess it up this time, leprechaun. Second chances are rare, even in a magical town like Evershift Haven.”
With that, he’s gone, leaving only a gentle breeze in his wake.
The café lights dim as Bella finishes closing up. I straighten, adjusting my shirt and running a hand through my hair. This is it. The moment I’ve been waiting for all day.
The door to Moonwake Café opens, and Bella steps out. She’s changed out of her work clothes into a pair of fitted jeans and a flowing top the color of midnight. Her green hair is pulled back into a messy bun, with a few strands escaping to frame her face. Hecate trots at her heels, her tiny collar charm glowing softly in the twilight.
I expect Bella to head home to her small butternut squash cottage on the outskirts of town, if she still lives where she did two years ago. Instead, she turns in the opposite direction, walking with purpose toward the center of Evershift Haven.
Toward the Moonlit Inn.
I push away from the bridge railing, my muscles protesting after hours of inactivity. Should I approach her now? Call out to her? The thought of confronting her makes my mouth go dry.
No. Better to wait, to see what she’s discovered. If she’s following a trail, I need to know where it leads before I intervene.
Keeping a discreet distance, I follow Bella through the winding streets of Evershift Haven. The town is beautiful at twilight, with fairy lights beginning to twinkle in the trees and magical lanterns casting a warm glow over the cobblestone paths. A few residents nod to me as I pass, some with surprise, others with knowing smiles.
Bella walks quickly, her stride purposeful. Hecate keeps pace beside her, occasionally glancing back as if she knows I’m following. The tiny dog probably does, being magical.
As they approach the Moonlit Inn, I hang back, watching from the shadow of a large oak tree. The inn is a Victorian-style building with gables and turrets that seem to shift and change when you’re not looking directly at them. Owned by Etienne and Crystal St. John, a vampire couple who’ve been together for centuries, it’s the oldest establishment in Evershift Haven.
Bella pauses at the entrance, reaching into her pocket to touch something—the clue she found, perhaps. She takes a deep breath, squares her shoulders, and steps inside, Hecate trotting faithfully at her heels.
I wait, counting to one hundred before approaching the inn. Through the stained-glass windows, I see the warm glow of the lobby. Bella is at the reception desk, speaking with Crystal St. John, whose pale, perfect features are animated as she responds to whatever Bella is asking.
Whatever trail Bella is following, it leads here to the Moonlit Inn, where I’ve been staying since my return to Evershift Haven. Is that significant? Or merely coincidence?
I retreat to the shadows, deciding to wait. Let Bella discover the next clue before I intervene. She’s always been clever—it’s one of the many things I love about her.