Chapter 5 Danni
DANNI
What I did was take a sip of the hot chocolate.
The warm, rich, impossibly delicious flavor rolled over my tongue and convinced me that I wasn’t dreaming.
The cool whipped cream that I had to wipe off my nose added to the feeling that this really was real.
I was in a magical town called Hidden Hollow filled with fairy-tale creatures and it appeared that I was stuck here.
Since I didn’t have anywhere else to go, I followed Celia, the bakery owner’s advice, and walked back down the street towards The Red Lion.
Fairy tale creatures were coming out of it.
I saw more Centaurs and Minotaurs and Orcs and some women who were tall and thin and looked like they had bark for skin as well as several others.
Most of the people I saw seemed to be women—there were even a few that seemed to be human.
All of them were talking amongst themselves and, aside from a few questioning glances, none of them seemed to notice me much at all.
Feeling awkward, I hung around the sidewalk, finishing my hot chocolate as I waited for the crowd to thin. At last the stream of people leaving The Red Lion Inn slowed and then stopped. They all seemed to be shopping or walking up and down the main street, ducking into the quaint little shops.
The only ones left on the broad front porch were several very ancient looking Grandmas, all dressed in black and purple dresses and pointed hats.
They looked like they were dressed as witches for Halloween but now I was more inclined to believe they were real witches and the “costumes” they appeared to be wearing were just their normal clothes.
I climbed the front porch steps and walked past them—they didn’t even glance at me.
I pushed open the door and walked inside to find myself in what looked like an old-fashioned hotel.
The lobby was decorated in painted portraits of serious-looking people wearing stiff, uncomfortable looking clothes.
There was a stairway that led up to the rooms, presumably, and an ancient cage-type elevator right beside it that looked like it would hold exactly one petite person at a time.
The front desk was manned by a person who looked like Mr. Tumnus from the Chronicles of Narnia books I had loved as a child.
He had curly little horns growing out of his forehead and big brown eyes.
When he took a step back from the counter, I saw that he had goat legs with neat little cloven hooves.
The top half of him was dressed in a jacket and tie, though he wore no shirt and the bottom half was simply covered in fur.
“Hello there—how may I assist you?” he asked, raising his eyebrows politely and I realized I had been staring rudely at him.
“Oh, um…” I felt more out of place than ever and wished even more that I had taken the time to get dressed that morning instead of deciding to hang out at home in my nightclothes. At least I had put on a little makeup, but my hair was a curly mess and I was tired of feeling half dressed.
“Would you like me to throw that away for you?” the faun desk clerk asked, motioning to the empty hot-chocolate cup, which I was still holding.
“Oh, thank you.” I gave him the cup and then, gathering my courage I asked, “Can I please speak to Goody Albright? Celia at The Lost Lamb sent me to see her.”
“Hmm, she’s very busy with the convention just at the moment, but I’ll see if she has a moment.” The faun rang a little bell and another one of those strange women with bark-like skin came over at once.
“Yes? What is it?” she asked briskly. I couldn’t help noticing that her hair looked like moss and there appeared to be a small twig growing out of the side of her nose.
“This human has asked to see Goody Albright,” the faun told her. “I wouldn’t bother her, but it seems that Celia sent her over.”
“Oh, I’ll go see if I can get her for you.” The woman with bark-skin nodded at me and scurried off.
“Thank you,” I said apologetically to the faun. “I’m, uh, new here.”
“Yes, so I surmised.” He gave my ratty robe a withering look…but then he seemed to thaw. “I’m new here too. Goody Albright just hired me to help out with the convention,” he remarked. “Did you come from another magical town or from the Mortal Realm?”
“The Mortal Realm?” I asked blankly. I was still trying to think how to answer him when a woman who might have been anywhere from forty to sixty glided up.
She was wearing an elegant looking dress that was almost a gown—it was emerald green and it came all the way down to her ankles.
She had on a bright pink fringed shawl that somehow complimented the emerald green of her gown rather than clashing with it and cat-eyed glasses that were studded with sparkling rhinestones.
She looked me up and down and shook her head.
“Dear me—another one! I swear this town is getting quite out of control. It’s drawing people in from everywhere now.”
“Another one what?” I asked blankly. “Are you Goody Albright?”
“Yes I am, my dear. I’m afraid I don’t have much time but come have a seat with me and we can talk for a minute at least.”
She led me to two overstuffed armchairs in the lobby, right by the large fireplace which had a fire blazing in it. Since a chilly gust came through every time the front door of the inn was opened, I was glad to sit in one of the chairs close to the quietly crackling flames.
“Now then, tell me your circumstances and I’ll try to help you make sense of how you got here,” Goody Albright directed.
“I’m very sorry not to offer you tea while we talk but I’m afraid just about every brownie I have is tied up with guests at the moment—we have a Women in Magic Convention going on at the moment and we’re trying to get ready for All Hallows Eve. ”
Women in Magic? I wanted to ask questions, but she was already glancing at her watch, and I could tell my time with her was limited. As quickly as I could, I explained about getting the mysterious envelope and how it had contained two keys and a note that told me how to draw a doorway.
I showed her the keys and she examined then and nodded. But when I pulled out the note, I saw that it now said something else entirely. Instead of the poem that told how to draw a door, an address was written in the same, flowing script.
1209 Main Street, Hidden Hollow, MA, it said. Just that, and nothing more.
“This is strange,” I said, turning the scrap of paper over in my hand and looking at the back, which was blank. “It didn’t used to say this. It had a poem that told me to draw a door with the key and that it would take me ‘where I belonged.’”
“Hmm…a piece of magic parchment, perhaps.” Goody Albright took it from me and read the address. Her eyebrows shot up. “My—this is odd!”
Odder than everything else?—was what I wanted to say. Instead I asked politely, “How so?” as I leaned towards the fireplace and rubbed my hands together.
“Well, this address is to the vacant lot on the far end of Main Street,” Goody Albright told me.
“I mean, it didn’t use to be vacant—there was a cottage there once.
A lovely one—owned by Goody Hawkins. But after she left for the Human World, it disappeared.
” She sighed. “Such a shame—it would have made a lovely shop. Especially now with things getting so busy.”
“Hawkins?” I frowned. “But…that was my father’s last name. And my grandmother’s too.”
Goody Albright looked thoughtful.
“Maybe you’re related to the witch who used to live there,” she mused.
“Goody Hawkins was lovely but she made the mistake of falling in love with a mortal man with no magic at all. And since no one without at least some magic is allowed here in Hidden Hollow, she had to leave.” She shook her head. “Such a loss of a good witch.”
“Wait—are you saying my grandmother was a witch?” I asked, frowning.
“Well of course, my dear. And it would follow that after her death you would be called here, to Hidden Hollow to take her place as the next witch in her family line. But Goody Hawkins left ages ago. I’m not sure why you’re only now being drawn here.”
“Oh, but I’m not a witch!” I protested. “I mean, I don’t have any kind of magical powers.”
Goody Albright gave me a gentle smile.
“Of course you are and of course you do, my dear. Hidden Hollow is surrounded by a magical bubble which only magic users like witches and warlocks or Creatures who have magic in their blood may enter. If you didn’t have any power, you wouldn’t have been able to draw the door that led you here.
Or to read the magical parchment which told you how to draw the door in the first place, for that matter. ”
“But—” I began, but just then another of the bark-skinned women came over and whispered in Goody Albright’s ear.
“Oh dear!” She shook her head, looking grave. “It’s always something when we host these big conventions!” She looked at me. “I’m afraid I have to leave you, my dear. Er, what did you say your name was again?”
“Danni,” I told her. “Danni Forester.”
“No, no, my dear—you must go by the name of the witch who drew you here,” she corrected me. “So here you would be Goody Hawkins.”
“But—” I began, but she was already rising.
“I’m very sorry but I have an emergency I must see to,” she told me.
“Why don’t you go down to the address on the parchment and see what you can see?
Maybe the cottage has reappeared now that its rightful owner has shown up in town.
If so and your key turns in the lock, it’s yours to stay in.
If not, you can come back here. The Goddess knows we’re filled to the rafters with this convention but I’m sure I can find somewhere to put you. ”
Then she bustled off before I could ask her anything else, leaving me to sit by the fire and wonder what to do next.