Chapter 3
MABON ~ FALL EQUINOX
Gael loved Mabon.
His strong elemental connection with the earth allowed him to feel each of the year’s energy changes.
The thinning veil of Samhain and the hush of Yule.
The stirring of Imbolc, the wild push of Beltane, and its zenith at Litha.
The taste of the earth’s bounty of Lammas.
But nothing moved him like Mabon. There was gratitude in it, joy.
Relief in the balance. The sun’s dominance was ending, and reflection would follow, but now was equilibrium.
The earth had given generously, and Gael, in turn, renewed his vow to protect it through the dark.
This year, he would allow himself an extra dose of pride.
A smile on his lips, he made the remainder of the way to his cousins’ pub.
He’d walked from Olympia to Mystic Hollow, something very similar to a one-and-a-half-day spiritual pilgrimage that had been needed more than wanted.
He moved way faster than humans, required less food, and had welcomed the cocoon of the forest around him.
When he was close enough, he laid a hand on the ancient oak that housed the pub, felt its strength, its welcoming stir.
Elara and Aryon had saved it so many years ago and since then, the pub was its purpose, and the tree was its heart.
Magic flowed through the living wood that shifted with the seasons, its essence threaded through every beam and floorboard.
Only magic as strong as the High Lord and Lady’s could have fused them like this.
To Gael, the tree was an old friend whose placid happiness pulsed into him even now as if to say, welcome back. “Hello, old one,” he murmured.
He entered the pub and spotted a few tourists poring over hiking maps, chasing the fall colors that lit up the forests around Mystic Hollow.
At a nearby table, Aryon, Jade, and Rick sat huddled over a laptop and a pile of papers, deep in discussion.
“You look like a bunch of folks about to make trouble,” Gael said as he strolled over.
Three heads snapped up. “I mean, an elf, an oread, and a vampire walk into a pub,” he added, grinning. “Nothing good ever starts that way.”
“Gael,” Aryon said, happy. “I didn’t know you were coming.”
He sat at the table with them. “No one did. It was a spur-of-the-moment kind of thing. How are you guys doing?”
“Finalizing Mabon’s festival stuff,” Jade said, playing with a dark curl that hung on her shoulder. Her brown skin sparkled, and her rainbow dragonfly-like wings gave a buzz of excitement. “Not a party, that’s totally Litha.”
“It was a great one,” he told her. The youngest Chief the Oreads ever had, Jade was an endearing buzz of scrambled energy that managed to get any job done. Through chaos and noise, but still. He’d met her in June and had liked her instantly.
“We’re going for the usual festival deal, which means we need... What is it we need more of?” she asked Rick, the town handyman and vampire.
An easy-going vampire, Rick pointed at the computer desk.
“Not much. A few more raised platforms for the harvest displays. The ground can get damp this time of year, and we want to keep produce and crafts dry. I’d add more weather-resistant lanterns as the days are getting shorter.
And make sure the central bonfire pit is properly contained and safe so that Lachlan doesn’t have a seizure.
” He shrugged. “I’d say that would be it. ”
“Do you need Heath for whatever manly, muscle-related reason?” She asked, making a face.
“I just gave him a seizure this morning. I might have momentarily displaced the Mabon codex. I found it, so everything is fine. I’m sure he’d love to help.
” To which, both Aryon and Rick laughed.
Heath was Jade’s cousin, her Second, and the ying to her yang.
Structure and order to her chaos. He would not love to help, but he would do it because of his clan and his cousin.
Jade nodded. “No, okay. He wouldn’t love it. I can volunteer Tom, though.”
Tom was her partner, very human and very patient. It was so true that fate sent the perfect match.
Rick nodded. “Send him over. Tell him to come for the work and stay for the game. I’ll get the beers.”
“Will do.” She checked the time on her phone. “I have to go. I’ll see you guys tomorrow afternoon to finish it all.”
“Yeah, I’m off too,” said Rick, standing. “I have to check on the drainage system behind the Peterson place. It’s been gurgling like it’s about to cough up a salamander.”
Within minutes, the others had drifted off, leaving Gael and Aryon alone.
They both leaned back in their chairs, easy and relaxed. “I don’t even need to open up, I all but see your happiness,” Aryon said, before tilting his head. “But your aura is weird.”
Gael skipped right past the aura comment. “The energy grid got final approval.”
“That’s great,” Aryon said, smiling. “Congratulations.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re here to relax, then?”
“Yes. Litha was a lot, and I wasn’t in the right place to enjoy it. Plus, you know Mabon is my favorite. I always loved coming here for it, and I missed it the past couple of years.”
Aryon said something, probably warm and affirming words, but Gael didn’t catch it, because the reason his aura was allegedly weird had just walked out of the kitchen.
Beth.
She carried two plates with the practiced easiness that came from working the floor for years, handed the food to an older couple sitting by the window.
They had a question for her, and she pointed something on a trail map they’d unfolded awkwardly across their drinks.
She smiled, and then she turned to walk away.
Saw him.
Her stride didn’t falter, but her chin lifted, her eyes sobered, and her mouth flattened to polished stone.
“Gael,” she said, all cool professionalism as she dipped her head slightly before turning to Aryon. “I didn’t get to prep the back stockroom this morning, but I’ll take care of it before close.”
“That’s fine,” Aryon said. “I’ll do it, don’t worry.”
She glanced between them. “Anyone need anything?”
“Chef R made spinach and leek soup,” Aryon added, catching his eye. “I assume you didn’t eat on your way here?”
“I didn’t,” Gael answered. “And I’d love some.”
“Hard cider?”
He nodded. “Thank you.”
Aryon stood, stretching a little. “I’ll go grab everything. Need to make a quick call anyway.” He looked over at Beth. “Sit for five minutes, would you? You’ve been running since opening.”
And just like that, he and Beth were sitting across from each other in a silence that felt anything but quiet. He opened his mouth to say... he wasn’t even sure what, but nothing came. Just the weight of existing in the same space as her pressed hard against his chest.
The silence stretched, thick and brittle. He couldn’t leave it there. So he reached for the nearest thread. “Are you going to the festival?”
“No.”
One word.
Yeah. Okay. He wasn’t sure why he’d expected anything else.
But the thing was, it still bothered him. That she believed Bryn. That she didn’t ask. That she’d looked at him like he was the bad one in the room. It wasn’t just about safety, Aryon and Elara would keep an eye on her if they even sensed a hint of something amiss. It wasn’t that.
It was that she’d heard the worst of him, and believed it, blindly.
He ground his teeth. “Busy?”
“The pub’s closed that night. I’ll use the time to finish things.” She paused for a beat, maybe to say something else. But in the end, all she said was, “I’ll go check your food.”
Then she got up and walked away.
And Gael sat there, staring after her, jaw still tight, telling himself it didn’t sting.
IT WAS THE PERFECT day for a Mabon celebration.
The sun hung low in the sky, golden and warm without the oppressive heat of summer.
A breeze rustled through the amber-drenched trees, carrying the scent of ripe fruit, distant woodsmoke, and cinnamon and apples.
Everything was balanced, and the world seemed to exhale.
Hands in his pockets and an easy smile on his lips, Gael strolled from downtown to the outskirts of Mystic Hollow.
Birds had replaced the buzz of the crowd, yards grew wider and less manicured until they gave way to open fields, scattered trees, and the watchful embrace of the mountain range beyond.
And then there it was.
Her house.
Small, yes, but beautiful in the way of things fiercely loved.
Color bloomed everywhere. Pink weeping begonias spilled from baskets by the door.
A vase of peonies caught the sunlight like a celebration.
Tall sunflowers lined one side of the house, standing like cheerful sentinels.
Pride lived in little things like carefully swept steps, freshly painted window boxes bursting with marigolds, bright orange against weathered wood.
He walked past the front gate and followed the white picket fence until her garden came into view, and like the last time he’d been there, he could only stare.
Okay, yes. She was human. But hell if she couldn’t give a dozen elves a run for their magic.
The garden was just as he remembered. Messy, chaotic, and dangerously alive.
Flowers and vegetables tangled together in beautiful disarray.
Scarlet runner beans climbed their stakes like they owned the place; a fat pumpkin curled in the shade.
Basil, raspberries, and carrots all spilled from their corners in joyful overgrowth.
There was no formal plan, no symmetry, just abundance.
And there she was.