Chapter 18
Gnomageddon
Ilead Elias up the stairs, feeling ill. Rowan squirms in my tote, probably wanting to be free, but he’s going to have to wait until we’re in the apartment.
“Come on in,” I say. “Excuse the mess. We use the area for storage.”
Elias’s eyes sweep over the shelving, his enigmatic expression offering no opinion. But that placid look on his face slips when I open my tote, and Rowan comes flying out.
The agitated mage settles on his perch, ruffling his feathers, looking mad as heck.
“Do you always carry an owl in your purse, Miss Merriweather?” Elias asks.
“More often than you might think.” I hang the tote on a hook by the door. “I should have asked if you’d like tea before we came up here.”
“This isn’t a social call,” he says. “And there’s no reason for small talk. The society received an anonymous tip that you have gnomes on your property. Are you aware that gnomes are a protected fae race?”
“Yes…”
“Are you also aware that fae business owners are required by law to inform the society when they discover signs of gnomes?”
“I didn’t realize there was a specific time frame in which it had to happen. I only just discovered substantial gnome signs recently.”
“Ignorance is not an acceptable excuse for—”
Rowan screeches, startling Elias so badly that the man jumps.
“I’m sorry,” I say, not sorry at all. “He’s a little unruly. What were you saying?”
The representative glares at the owl for several seconds before he pulls his attention back to me.
“Fae business owners are expected to make themselves familiar with the laws that pertain to them. Therefore, we will be reporting this offense. However, if you cooperate, your penalty might be lessened.”
“What’s the penalty?” I ask, though I don’t want to know. I really don’t.
“For business owners, the minimum is fifty thousand dollars for failure to report, but it can go as high as one hundred thousand and/or imprisonment if you’re charged with reckless endangerment.”
“Fifty thousand dollars? Are you serious?”
He stares at me, quite obviously not joking. Maybe not even capable of joking.
“Okay,” I say, trying not to hyperventilate. “What can—”
A sharp knock at the door cuts me off. Before I can answer it, Ash lets himself in.
“What are you doing here?” I ask the councilman, almost sick with relief.
“Ryder called me.”
Bless the elf.
Frustrated, Elias says, “I’m sorry, you cannot be here. This is an official matter that—”
“My name is Ash Neilfellow. I’m Miss Merriweather’s lawyer,” Ash says, his tone curt with haughty authority. “She has every right to request my presence.”
Annoyed, Elias looks at me, raising a brow.
“I want him,” I confirm. But when Ash smirks, I quickly amend that by saying, “I want him here.”
“Very well,” the representative sighs. “Let’s continue.”
It’s been thirty exhausting minutes, and I feel numb as Ash and Elias bicker. They’re keeping it professional, but the discussion is heated. Occasionally, Rowan screeches, desperate to add his thoughts but trapped behind the cage of his shifter form.
Shifter form. All this time, Rowan’s been a shifter. Well, part-shifter. But still.
What does that mean for our bond?
“The law states you cannot demand a business close until an official declaration has been made,” Ash says. “And you can’t make a declaration until you have inspectors examine the gnome habitat.”
Elias presses his fingertips to his forehead, vexed. “I’m an inspector, I looked at the garden, and I’m telling you, Miss Merriweather must close her shop immediately.”
“Code 56.A states that at least two inspectors must submit individual statements so that the magistrate may make an informed, official ruling. No matter how much you might like to, you cannot expedite the process.”
This is exhausting.
After yet another twenty minutes, Elias leaves the tea shop—and he’s not happy. Ash won this round, but I’m not so confident about the next.
I slump against one of the storage shelves, feeling like the weight of the entire world is crushing me. “You studied up on this, didn’t you?”
“The same day you mentioned the gnomes. I had a gut feeling we might end up dealing with the society.” He massages his temples. “I wish I hadn’t been right.”
“Can they really close the tea shop?” I ask Ash, knowing very well they can. That’s why I wanted to deal with this before they got involved.
But Ash doesn’t answer. Instead, he gestures to Rowan. “What is that?”
“Exactly what you think. Rowan accidentally turned himself into an owl again.”
“Accidentally?” Ash demands.
“It’s a long story.”
“Why can’t he talk? It’s not like him to keep his mouth shut this long.”
“Your mom sent his charmed amulet off to her jeweler in Boston. She said she’s going to get it.”
“That’s where she went in such a rush,” he muses.
“Can we focus? Is there any way to prevent the society from closing the tea shop?”
Because that’s apparently what Elias meant by cooperate—cease all commerce and leave the gnomes to exist in complete peace and tranquility, until they embrace their nomadic ways and move on.
It could be a few weeks, a couple of months, or even several years.
It depends on the gnomes and how comfortable they are.
“I’ll take care of it,” he answers.
“What am I going to do?” I ask. “If I don’t keep the tea shop open, I’ll fail the requirements in my aunt’s will and lose everything.”
“I’m not going to let that happen. I’ll call one of my contacts at the Department of Fae Code and Ethics and see if I can push for a relocation,” Ash promises. “The town can’t afford our crown jewel to be closed again.”
I sniffle, holding back both panicked and touched tears. “That’s a nice thing to say about the tea shop. I’m sure Laverna would have liked that.”
He narrows his eyes. “Don’t cry. You’ve already brought the rain. If you start that, you’ll wash the town right out of Vermont.”
“I’m not.” I sniffle again.
“Kit,” he warns.
I laugh, blinking quickly. When I gain control of myself, I say, “Elias said they won’t do a relocation because the property is fae-owned and there’s little chance of human interaction.”
“The gnomes created a miniature village in the very center of a tourist town. Of course there’s a risk of human interaction.”
I allow myself to feel a tiny glimmer of hope. “I feel like I say this all the time, but thank you for your help.”
He grunts in that cultured way of his, and then he jerks his head toward Rowan, who sits like a very angry tea shop mascot. “What are you going to do about him?”
“We don’t know yet.”
“Ansel isn’t going to steal your magic again, is he?”
“He didn’t steal it the first time, and no. I don’t think so.”
“I think at this point, taking Rowan to Animal Control is a perfectly reasonable solution.”
“Ash,” I say at the same time Rowan screeches.
The councilman chuckles as he heads for the door. “Tell me if you change your mind. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a dozen phone calls to make.”
He closes the door when he goes, leaving me alone with Rowan. I turn to my owl mate, feeling lost and hating that he can’t talk.
“Now what?” I walk to the office and sink into the chair, dropping my head onto the desktop.
Rowan follows me, landing on his perch by the bookcase.
“This was easier when you had your amulet,” I say. “I can’t believe you went two years without it the first time you changed. That must have been really lonely.”
I blink quickly when my eyes grow misty, determined not to “wash away the town.”
Rowan lets out a soft hoo, fluttering his wings, looking helpless. Or maybe I’m just projecting.
“There’s not much we can do right now.” I sigh, sitting up and then looking down at my shorts and flip-flops. I wish I’d been a little more intentional about my outfit this morning. “I should get to work.”
Rowan hoots again, his vocabulary limited.
“I’m going to head downstairs,” I say reluctantly. “You’d best stay here. I’ll check on you in a few hours.”
This time, Rowan screeches, not liking that.
“Not ‘check on you’ like you can’t take care of yourself. Check in with you. Is that better?”
He lifts his wings in a way that looks like he’s shrugging, which I can only take for a yes. He looks so frustrated.
I study him, my heart breaking. “Just so you know, I don’t love you any less when you’re an owl. And yes, I know it’s the first time I’m saying it directly to you, and no, it’s probably not the best timing. But I feel like you need to know. I love you, Rowan. And we’re going to figure this out.”
He stays silent, watching me.
“Okay, I’m going.”
I could really use a hug, but that’s impossible right now.
What if you can’t fix it this time? the morbid voice of unfounded anxiety whispers in my ear. What if you never get to hug Rowan again?
But no, I’m not going to give in to it. We fixed this once; we can fix it again. Yes, things might be different now that Rowan can access his shifter magic. But surely that can only make things easier?
Pushing the panic back, I walk down the stairs. When I enter the tearoom, I find Ryder at the counter sipping tea and chatting with Nadine, his face solemn and worried.
“Thank you for calling Ash,” I say to the elf when I join them. “I couldn’t have managed that meeting without him.”
“He comes in handy sometimes.”
I look around the shop, my heart pinching when I see the people at their tables, everyone chatting over their tea and enjoying themselves. I’ve come to really love this place, and I don’t want to lose it.
“What happens now?” Nadine asks.
“One more inspector must come in and look at the garden. Ash said he’s going to try to request a relocation. I hope he can manage it.”
“What’s the alternative?” Ryder asks.
“They might demand we close the tea shop.”
The elf’s eyes go wide. “Can they do that?”
“I’m afraid they can.” I sigh. “But it’s a worry for later. For now, I’m going to get to work.”
Ryder smiles as he jerks his chin toward me. “Like that?”
I look down at my outfit again. “It’s bad, isn’t it?”