Epilogue
CALLIOPIA
I hate road-tripping in the rain, but this storm is hovering over most of the East Coast for the rest of the week, and now that I’ve located my target, I refuse to wait any longer.
My sister deserves to have her life back.
A sign for Cozy Catfish Bed-and-Breakfast appears through the steady deluge, and I turn into a small parking area, next to a beautiful house.
Any other visit, I would have reached out to my friend and fellow witch Ame Shelly about staying with her.
But for now, I don’t want anyone from my life knowing that I’m here.
They would ask why I’d driven almost two days straight down from Maine to suddenly show up in the town of Folk Haven.
And I can’t tell them. Not until I know it’ll work.
And if it does work, then the question will be moot anyway.
Snatching my backpack from the passenger seat, I jump out of my car, slam the door shut, and jog for the covered porch, wincing at the way my sneakers squelch in the mud. By the time I reach the front door of the B & B, I’m dripping and chilled.
A tinkling bell on the door rings, announcing my arrival.
“Oh no. That storm caught you, huh?” A woman with chestnut skin, short brown hair, and a concerned tilt to her wide mouth hurries up to me, her hands held up in a silent plea for me to stay in place. “Why don’t you take your shoes off here? Let them dry without tracking mud all through the house.”
She points to a mat, and I follow her instructions, toeing off my soaked sneakers.
“I have a reservation. Calliopia Starfell.”
“Yes! Of course. You’re in the waterfall suite. I’ll grab your key.” She bustles behind an old-fashioned wooden counter and comes up with a skeleton key dangling from a fish key chain. “Right this way.”
I follow the innkeeper, trying not to grimace at the squish of my wet socks on the rugs.
“And what brings you to Folk Haven? Visiting family?”
“No relatives here. But Ame Shelly did used to babysit me.” I pinch my tongue between my teeth in silent rebuke of my oversharing.
This is a secret mission, and I can’t be blabbing about my life story to anyone until I know for sure I can pull this off without getting in cosmic trouble.
“I’m just here to meet with someone about borrowing a tool. ”
Not that they know. There was no contact information attached other than the address I found. Although I’m not sure I would have called them beforehand even if I could have. I’m much more persuasive in person, and I need them to do me a favor.
To let me use something of theirs.
“Ame Shelly?” The proprietress pauses in front of a closed door and looks me over. “So, you’re a …” She lets the statement trail off, a safety precaution for herself in case she’s wrong.
“A witch,” I finish.
She sighs, her shoulders relaxing. “Oh good. I always have to watch what I say around humans who stay here. Glad we can talk freely.”
She slips the key into the door and unlocks it, stepping aside so I can explore the room I’ll be staying in for only a day or two.
“Wow. This is very …” Words flee as I take in every detail.
“Blue?” she prompts.
I nod as my eyes trace over the aqua wallpaper, indigo-painted bedside tables, and cerulean bedspread. Teardrop-shaped crystals dangle from every lampshade, and in the corner of the room, a small fountain fills the air with the soothing sound of trickling water.
“Well, I’ll leave you to get settled. There’s coffee, tea, and snacks downstairs in the dining area. Wi-Fi password is on the desk. Extra linens in the closet. If you need me to stick any of your clothes in the dryer, just let me know!”
She hands off the key, but before she can disappear through the door, I stop her with a quick, “I do have a question.”
She pauses, eyebrows raised.
“I’m supposed to meet someone at their house, but we’ve never met before. Do you happen to know who lives at …” I pull a soggy piece of paper from my back pocket, the ink smudged but still legible. I read off the address, then study her face for a reaction.
Luckily, no abject horror appears. She gives a thoughtful tilt to her head.
“I couldn’t say exactly. That road has a few houses off of it, and I haven’t memorized the numbers. But I believe anything past the 1200s puts you in monster territory.”
I blink and must appear concerned.
She chuckles and pats my arm. “Don’t worry. They might be able to transform into something fearsome to look at, but most everyone in this town is kind. You’ll have to let me know who it ends up being.” With a wave, she disappears through the door.
Alone, I drop my backpack next to the desk and pull out my maps. I started with an atlas. Then a map of the USA. Then Georgia. Then Lake Galen, where my seeking spell finally left a scorch mark on the address I just gave my host.
Ame or her older sister, Mor, probably knows who lives there, or they can find out for me.
But I can’t tell them.
No one can know what I’m here for. What I plan to do.
Even the most morally gray mythics hesitate at manipulating time.