Chapter 19
A Leprechaun in the Cottage
“Mr. Eastwilden,” I say, positive I don’t have the energy for this. “What a surprise.”
“I dropped by the tea shop, and Nadine said you’d gone home,” the leprechaun says sympathetically. “I stopped by because I heard you had a visit from the Fae Preservation Society. I do hope you’re all right.”
How could he possibly know that already?
“Mr. Eastwilden said you’re thinking about selling him the tea shop,” Dad says, concerned. “He said finances have been difficult, and you can’t afford the roof and attic repairs.”
I turn my attention to the leprechaun. He should be glad I’m not a mage with a passion for metamorphosis, because if I were, I would turn him into a slithering salamander. No more hotelier lording over the town. Just an amphibian in a dapper suit.
“Mr. Eastwilden generously made an unsolicited offer,” I say. “But I’m not interested in selling the tea shop. And I have money to fix the roof and attic.”
At least the roof. Maybe.
“It might be worth considering his offer,” my mom says, meeting my eyes, her face full of hope. “You could come home to Washington.”
Oh no.
I look to my dad for backup, but I see the shine in his eyes, too.
Everything could return to normal. I could go home. We could live in the house I grew up in. My mother wouldn’t have to transplant her highly rooted self all the way across the country.
No more Moss Hollow council telling me what to plant in my window boxes or how to decorate my store for holidays. No more business ledger informing me I’m failing. No more gnomes, no more sticky heat, no more greedy leprechauns, and no more…
Visits from new friends. Or pleasant days in the tea shop, chatting with customers about their tea experiences. No more cute cottage.
No more Rowan.
“We’ll talk about it this evening,” I tell her, refusing to dive into an uncomfortable conversation in front of our unwanted guest. Then I gesture to my wet clothes. “I need to change. Thanks for dropping by, Mr. Eastwilden.”
“Wait, Kit,” Dad says urgently. “What happened with the representative from the society?”
“Ash is dealing with it. He’s going to request a relocation.”
I can tell Dad wants to ask if Elias noticed our unofficial, borderline-illegal relocation efforts, but he doesn’t dare ask in front of Mr. Eastwilden.
Thankfully for all of us, Elias didn’t mention it, which hopefully means he didn’t notice that we’ve been tampering with things.
I excuse myself and head to my bedroom, hoping to find Rowan waiting for me on the footboard. But it’s empty.
Outside, the rain continues to fall, miserable and wet.
“He’s fine,” I mutter to myself. “He was an owl for seven years before we met, and it certainly rained here before I came to town. He knows how to deal with it.”
I shower and get ready for the day, choosing my favorite pair of jeans with a white blouse and brown vest, deciding today calls for comfort. Once I’m finished with my hair and makeup, I leave my room, anxious to return to the tea shop.
But when I step into the kitchen, I discover we’ve replaced one visitor for another.
Ash and my dad talk, looking solemn. My mom’s whisking something in a bowl on the counter, listening intently to their conversation.
The councilman looks over when he notices me hovering.
“I’ve spoken with one of my contacts at the Department of Fae Code and Ethics.
He said the society will present the case to the magistrate after the inspections are complete.
We may request a relocation at the hearing.
I was hoping to bypass the inspection nonsense, but apparently, there’s no way to cut through the red tape. ”
“It somewhat worked in our favor,” I point out. “Elias would have gladly shut down the tea shop today if he could have.”
Ash nods, but he doesn’t look happy about it. “You’ll have to go to Boston for the ruling.”
“Boston?” Dad asks. “There’s not an office in Vermont?”
“The court office in Massachusetts oversees the entire New England area,” Ash explains. “I’m afraid you’ll have to close the shop for a few days.”
“Maybe Rowan can watch it when we go?” I suggest, though I’m sure he’ll want to attend the hearing. If we can change him back. They probably won’t let an owl in.
“Rowan is currently a bird,” Ash says, exasperated.
Mom gasps softly. “What?”
“It’s fine,” I say, not wanting to go into it. “We’re figuring it out.”
“Where is he?” Dad asks.
“I don’t know. Exactly. Somewhere.”
A knock sounds at the door, filling me with dread. Now what?
Ash follows me into the living room, preparing to leave.
“When do you think the next inspection will be?” I ask him.
“Within the next few days, probably. From what I understand, the society moves quickly.”
“Great.”
There’s another knock, this one more urgent. I force myself across the room and pull open the door, bracing myself for the worst.
“Ansel?” I ask, startled to see the sorcerer on my front step. “What are you doing here?”
“I have an idea.”
“To change Rowan back?” I ask, my mood brightening.
The mage’s green eyes sparkle, his face lit with pure sorcerer chaos. “To separate your fused magic.”