17. Wilder
Wilder
As I watch Oz bullet into the sky to follow Saint, I wish for the millionth time I had wings. What I wouldn’t give to follow them and keep an eye on that city slicker asshole.
“Oz can take care of himself,” Willa says evenly. “He’s a big boy.”
“I know,” I growl. “But Saint’s—”
“An asshole, I know.” My sister loops her arm through mine. “Wanna get out of here?”
“Good idea,” says Bluebell, appearing next to my sister. “Plus, you promised me a drink, Willa, and then you disappeared for like, two full days.”
Willa laughs and looks back at me, waggling her brows. “Shall we?”
Forcing my usual noncommittal grunt, I semi agree as I look back into the sky.
“He’s not gonna reappear,” Bluebell says. “You’re pining, Wilder; come on.”
I turn and frown. “I’m not pining.”
She pops onto her tiptoes and grips my chin, turning my face from side to side as she scans me like a scientific specimen. “You’re fucking pining. I know that look.”
Gently, I remove her hand and shake my head. “Not pining. Just know he doesn’t like that guy.”
She and Willa share a glance. Willa makes a tiny space between her thumb and forefinger. “Maybe a little bit of pining?”
I refuse to respond to the comment. I’m not pining, definitely not.
“You need a drink, then,” Bluebell says with a big smile. “For all the definitely not pining you’re doing.”
“We agree to that,” Willa answers for me, grabbing me and pushing me toward the edge of the crowd.
Half an hour later, we’re seated in a booth at Lizard Lick Saloon. Willa’s next to me, and Bluebell and Hadrian are across. Hadrian smiles. “Now that you’re a Gulcher, there are some things you need to know.”
Bluebell rests her tiny hand on his forearm, stroking the dark purple hair there. “Oh, yes, all the local secrets.”
He winks. “You know how we’ve never been able to keep a Keeper, so Sheriff Rygold functions as one despite not having the natural ability?”
I shrug. “Yeah, I knew that.”
Hadrian jerks his head toward the bar. “See those cowbells over the bar? There’s one for every failed Keeper we’ve had since our first Keeper, Sipan Varian.
He was very beloved by the Gulch and died an unfortunately early, unexplained death.
She’s run every other one off. To the point where Hearth HQ agreed to stop sending Keepers here until we figure out what we want. ”
“Which is what?” Willa takes a sip of her gin and soda. “This place is wild. Maybe HQ just can’t find a monster or monstress wild enough to partner with the Gulch?”
Bluebell sighs, glancing at the ceiling as if she’s lost in thought.
“Yeah, I think it’s more that most traditionally trained Keepers try to force specific keeping rules on Pine Gulch, but we like to be a little crazy.
We like to do things differently. Headquarters didn’t love Sipan, because he was so creative.
He did whatever he wanted, and I think the haven is looking for someone like that. ”
Above us, the chunky wooden ceiling beams groan and creak.
Willa chuckles. “I think the saloon is agreeing with you, Bluebell.”
Hadrian smiles. “And don’t forget to have Oz show you the pumpkin maze and the underground river. The maze isn’t really a secret, although it's a teensy bit hidden, but the tunnels are a must-see.”
Willa and I share a surprised look. “Water-filled tunnels? Why? How?”
Hadrian chuckles. “That’s what I said, but we used to sneak down there when we were teenagers and drink mead because it’s often empty. Except there are sail-through drive-through windows for most of the businesses so you can pick up drinks and food.”
My mouth drops open. I haven’t been here long, but this is a total surprise to me. “Gods, what else?”
“That’s just the tip of the iceberg, friend.” Bluebell clinks her glass to mine. “You need a welcome book. I’m kinda surprised Oz hasn’t forced one on you yet.”
Naw, I almost say, we’ve been too busy dry-humping in tents and dancing around an obvious attraction.
She continues, “Sipan, our original keeper, was all about delightfully hidden surprises. He had an adventurous heart, and he felt true Gulchers would have that characteristic too. Not to mention he was an extraordinarily talented green witch, so there are lots of neat planty things around here. In fact, one of Lemon’s friends from Rainbow just relocated to take over some of his old projects. Her name’s Shadow; she’s awesome.”
“Genius,” Willa murmurs, looking around at the bar. “What sort of projects did he have in mind?”
Bluebell smiles. “Actually, the new humans who run monster headquarters were just here to talk about that. Apparently, Sipan wrote a whole business plan on how he wanted to grow Pine Gulch, but the prior HQ leaders buried it because they didn’t like his ideas.
I suppose it shouldn’t be that big of a shock that the Gulch has never liked anyone they’ve sent us. ”
“This feels like gossip,” Willa says with a delighted laugh. “Tell me absolutely everything.”
The wall to my left shudders and shuffles, and a framed photograph drops onto the center of the table.
Willa jolts but looks up at the ceiling with a big smile. “Thank you, friend.”
The photograph looks old, very old, showing a handsome white-coated longhorn minotaur.
The plain gold ring in his nose indicates he never mated, but he looks happy anyhow in an old-timey three-piece suit.
A gold chain hangs from a pocket on his vest. Below the picture, a burnished gold plaque reads “Sipan Varian, beloved Keeper.” I’d think it would be traditional to show the dates he functioned as Keeper, but it’s like he’s the only one who matters at all.
“Curious,” Willa says, turning the frame over. On the back, a folded sheet of paper is taped to the kraft paper backing. She carefully removes it and opens the tiny sheet.
“What the hells is that?” Bluebell leans forward over the table, staring at the bitty page.
Willa scans it quickly, then sets it down. Angular cursive writing is scrawled over it, so lyrical it could be a song.
Bluebell takes it and stares, dark brows furrowing as she reads.
If a true Gulcher at heart, take your time, do your part.
At her core there is more if you’ve the guts to explore.
An eleven will strike lest the Keeper choose fight.
I take the sheet. “Is that it? What is this? Is this one of the secrets you were mentioning?”
Hadrian shakes his head. “No, I have no idea what that is, although, admittedly, I never lived here full-time until this year.” He turns to Bluebell, who’s still staring at the paper. “Do you know what this is?”
I find myself wondering if Oz would have an idea. I bet he would.
She shakes her head. “No idea, and I’ve lived here my whole life.”
Willa reaches for the paper. “Can I have that? I’m nothing if not nosy, and I’m an excellent investigator. I might head to the records department at the Auction House and see if I can figure this out. I love a good mystery.”
“All yours.” Bluebell hands her the tiny sheet. “Let us know what you find because who wrote that? And why is it taped to an old photograph of Sipan Varian? And what does it even mean?”
Hadrian thrums his fingers on the tabletop, gathering my attention. “Dude. Why don’t you guys come over tomorrow and we can look at those books about your bulls? Maybe your sister will have figured out some of this mystery by then, too. I’ll admit to being curious. Sound okay?”
“Yeah, of course,” I say as I wonder if it’s alright for me to make Oz a plan without checking.
I know two things with certainty. One: if anyone can figure it out, it’s my sister. And two? I wish Oz was here so he could be part of this.