Chapter 21 #2
Anna stacks paper bowls on one of the counters. They’re red, white, and blue, festive for the kickoff of the town’s week-long Independence Day celebration. “The last time we saw him, he was off to argue with Perry.”
“Uh oh,” I say, glad it’s him and not me. Ryder’s adoptive father, the brownie who owns the cafe, has a reputation for being easily offended and fond of drama. “What happened?”
“He’s trying to sell gelato,” Gideon says, “even though we reminded everyone that we’d be in charge of the ice cream for the event.”
“Can’t he give you the gelato to distribute?”
“He can, and it would be great marketing for the cafe. But he doesn’t want to give it away, and we announced that all of today’s ice cream will be free. We don’t want people showing up, only making it as far as Perry’s stand, and leaving thinking we lied in our advertising.”
“Oh, look.” Anna’s attention moves behind me. “Ash is on his way back.”
The councilman joins us a few moments later. To Gideon, he says, “Perry tried to tell me gelato isn’t ice cream and is therefore outside the boundary of the rules we established.”
“Please tell me you didn’t let him get away with that,” Gideon groans.
“I did not. He’s carting the gelato back to the cafe and threatening to move to Miami.”
“What’s in Miami?” Anna laughs.
“Who knows?” Ash says, and then he turns to me. “Hello, Kit. Is your stand ready? We open the gates to the public in fifteen minutes.”
“We’re ready. But I need to talk to you. Do you have a minute?”
He glances toward the rest of the stands. “As long as it won’t take long.”
“It shouldn’t.”
Nodding, he leads me to a quiet corner by the rose garden, away from the main tent. “All right. What can I help you with?”
I tell him about the strange conversation with Theodosia, and then I shrug. “What do you think?”
He frowns, thoughtful. “I haven’t heard of the town having any other gnome issues.”
“The Eastwildens have been around a lot longer than we have,” I say. “Rowan said Mr. Eastwilden is over a hundred years old.”
Looking across the fairgrounds, Ash strokes his chin. “He is, yes.”
“Do you think there’s a chance he’s involved in all this?” I ask hesitantly, not wanting to jump to conclusions.
“I’m not sure. I would like to believe he’s above such behavior, but I wouldn’t put it past him.”
The thought of it makes me a little sick. The idea of someone purposely trying to get rid of me… Well, it doesn’t feel good.
“What do we do?”
“I’ll look into it, but for now…” He jerks his chin toward my stand.
“Right. Get to work.”
“Correct.”
And with that, we part ways. Ash goes back to the ice cream tent, and I return to our tea stand.
At exactly two o’clock, cheerful, festival-style instrumental music begins playing through the carefully hidden speakers, and tourists enter the fairgrounds.
“Here we go,” Nadine says, thriving on the joyful chaos. She adjusts the family of hedgehogs she plans to give away and puts on a welcoming smile.
I would normally love this as well, but a dozen other things take up space in my head.
With a sigh, I parrot, “Here we go.”
A huge, sparkling firework blooms over the nearby trees, eliciting happy squeals from the tourists.
Rowan and I stand near the front of the fairgrounds, close to the entrance, watching Ansel’s display.
“It’s amazing he doesn’t light the forest on fire,” I say. “They’re so close.”
“I’m sure he cast wards that prevent it,” Rowan says, not as impressed as the human spectators. I guess if you see them every week, they probably lose a little of their magic.
I don’t usually stay in town for the Saturday night fireworks, but we decided to keep the tea shop open late since it’s a festival day, so we were here anyway. We closed fifteen minutes ago, and I’m exhausted.
The ice cream social was a success, and Nadine received so many compliments on her matcha ice cream that she’s glowing. Not literally this time, for which I’m sure she’s relieved.
She wandered off after we closed the shop, informing me she’s going to catch a ride home with Jax.
Being back here reminds me of the Firefly Festival. That was the night Rowan and I realized we were bonded. The night that changed everything.
Now here we are, back again, on the cusp of something that could change our lives all over again.
I glance at Rowan, taking in his profile in the sporadic bloom of the fireworks, loving him so much it hurts.
“We need to break the bond,” I find myself saying. “Tonight, we need to do it.”
Even though my words are barely more than an agonized whisper, Rowan hears me. He jerks his head, turning to face me, his expression startled. “Tonight?”
“The longer we wait, the more it’s going to hurt.”
“Are you sure?”
No, but I nod anyway.
“Okay.” He exhales heavily. “We’ll find Ansel after the fireworks are over.”
He turns back toward the display. I stand next to him, sick. A moment later, his hand finds mine. I grasp it, clinging to him. The fireworks are loud and bright, but I barely notice them.
My mind is on Rowan and this thing I can’t believe I said we should do.
I hate it.
But I know it’s right. We can’t move forward with our relationship when it’s built on an unstable foundation.
The night sky is a riot of deafening explosions as we reach the finale. And then, right at the end, fireworks shaped exactly like three ice cream cones light up the sky. They dissolve into sparkling butterflies and flutter to the edges of the night.
People gasp and squeal, wondering how such perfect, detailed and animated shapes could be possible.
“If Ansel did all that for the ice cream social, imagine what he has planned for the fourth,” I say.
“Ash is going to kill him,” Rowan says with a wicked laugh.
“Then we’d best find the sorcerer before he does.”
It’s dark now—too dark to see. But I can feel Rowan’s gaze as he turns to look at me.
“Does your shifter side help you see in the dark?” I ask absently, wanting to talk about anything other than what we’re about to do.
“Possibly.”
“Did you notice it before you worked the first metamorphosis?”
“No. My vision improved when I became an owl, but I didn’t notice a drastic decline when I changed back to myself.”
“That’s handy,” I murmur.
He makes a noise of agreement, sounding a little lost. Just like me.
I turn to leave. “Let’s find Ansel so we can get this over with.”