2. Evangeline
Evangeline
Evangeline could not say how long she and Jacks had been living at the Hollow.
After the battle at the Tree of Souls, Evangeline and Jacks hadn’t been sure where to go. They’d talked about how the whole world was theirs, imagined all the wondrous places they would visit. And all the while, their steps had taken them here. To the Hollow: Inn for Travelers and Adventurers.
The Hollow’s rounded front door was already open for them when they arrived. Robin’s-egg-blue and daffodil-yellow birds were flitting in and out, chirping and singing and making Evangeline feel as if it might be a while before she and Jacks went on any faraway excursions.
Now that the mirth stone was gone, the Hollow was no longer immune to all curses, and (for the most part) it treated time the same way as the rest of the world did.
But the clock still worked its peculiar magic, the faucets still poured scented water, and the candles and fireplaces still lit themselves, making the Hollow feel like the coziest, homiest place Evangeline had ever been.
A part of her wondered if anywhere with Jacks would feel like home. But she particularly loved this home. After taking the mirth stone from the clock, Evangeline had feared the Hollow’s enchantment was forever gone, but some of it had returned.
“It never really needed the stone’s magic for everything,” Jacks had murmured one morning. “This old place had just come to rely on it.”
The Hollow had huffed at that. Or done what Eva imagined was the equivalent of a huff, rattling its windows open and shut with a loud, synchronized thwack!
“I don’t think it liked that,” she had whispered.
Jacks had merely shrugged. “You’ll get used to her moods.”
Today, the Hollow’s mood was impatient.
The clock in the hall moved much faster than usual.
While time here now behaved like it did in the rest of the world, there were still occasions when it acted more like a cat, stretching out slowly or darting forward with surprising quickness.
This afternoon, time was definitely darting forward. It seemed that every few minutes, the clock would chime and a new dish or drink would arrive:
Poof! Mystery Stew.
Poof! Berry Porridge.
Poof! Hot Chocolate.
The clock was acting as if eager guests had already arrived.
And Evangeline really hoped they would arrive. She looked out the window nervously toward her sign:
WELCOME TO THE HOLLOW:
INN FOR TRAVELERS AND ADVENTURERS
PLEASE RETURN FOR THE
GRAND REOPENING
AND THE FIRST ANNUAL
HAPPY
HOLLOWFEST
HOLIDAY!
The date of the official grand reopening (which was finally tomorrow!) was painted below. Every time Evangeline looked at the sign, she hoped to see a queue of passersby so eager for the opening they’d already formed a line down the lane. Which was ridiculous, she knew.
But Evangeline often believed in the ridiculous. And she wanted everything to be perfect, or if not perfect, close enough to it that guests and visitors would imagine it was.
She wanted to see the inn full of smiling people sharing food and stories.
She wanted to see children running between legs and chasing baby dragons while bards told tales near the fire.
And at the end of the night, when everyone else had gone to bed, she wanted to sit with a piece of pie and hold hands with Jacks and talk about all the wonders of their day.
There could be no poisonings, no evil princes or bloodthirsty vampires, no curses or stolen memories, no Wanted posters with her or Jacks’s pictures. There was no room for those things in a happily ever after.
Evangeline turned back to her cherry-berry-almond pie, lifting it from the counter before any of the nearby dragons could start nibbling. She added it to her cupboard of pies.
There were now six dozen.
“That should do,” she whispered. And yet for some reason it still didn’t feel like enough. Did she need more lattice pies? More rock sugar crusts? Did she need to bake some cakes?
What was she missing? What did she need? What if this thing that wasn’t there wasn’t even a dessert?
For so long, Evangeline had used her mother’s stories to guide her.
Those fairytales had always ended with promises of happily ever after.
But they never actually showed the ever afters.
And her gentle mother had never told her what to do after falling in love.
Maybe that was the part that was missing.
Maybe Evangeline just wanted one more piece of advice from her mother or her father, telling her what she was supposed to do now.
Carefully, she wiped her hands on her little lace apron before opening up the closest thing she had in their place.
THE HAPPY INNKEEPER’S GUIDE TO ALL THINGS WONDERFUL
Preface: Taking from Traditions of Old
Chapter 1. You Can Never Have Too Many Pies
Chapter 2. A Little Magic Goes a Long Way—and Sometimes It Can Go the Wrong Way
Chapter 3. Making Dreams Come True!
Chapter 4. The Competition
Chapter 5. A Checklist of What to Do and What Not to Do
Chapter 6. Inviting Old Friends
Chapter 7. Dealing with Complications
Chapter 8. Mistakes
Chapter 9. Unfortunate Choices
Chapter 10. When Everything Goes Wrong
Chapter 11. Adjusting to Your New Life
“I still don’t know if you’ve made enough pies,” drawled Jacks.
She twirled around to find him done with painting and leaning against the arched doorway to the tavern, as he slowly looked over her wall of pies.
Evangeline mock-frowned at him. Jacks was only joking, but the part of her that kept obsessively checking The Happy Innkeeper’s Guide to All Things Wonderful wondered if perhaps he was actually right.
The book did say You Can Never Have Too Many Pies.
“I suppose I could make a chocolate pumpkin pie. Or another chess—”
“I was only kidding,” Jacks interrupted gently, as he shoved off the doorway and sauntered closer. “You have enough pies for all of Merrywood Village.” He reached out and pried her hands away from the guide.
“But what if no one comes?” she blurted.
“People will be here.” Jacks’s perfect mouth tipped up at one corner in an overconfident smile.
Evangeline narrowed her eyes.
When Jacks and Evangeline had first moved to the Hollow, she had been so happy that she hadn’t noticed the whispers every time she went into the closest town, Merrywood Village. When she had eventually become aware of the things people said, she’d thought they would stop in time.
Evangeline couldn’t really blame the townsfolk for whispering about her. Yes, she was the same Evangeline whom Prince Apollo had married after Nocte Neverending, which had then set off a scandalous string of events that had ended with Prince Apollo disappearing and a new king taking the throne.
But she really hoped that sooner rather than later, she would go from being known as Evangeline from the scandal sheets to Evangeline who-helped-run-the-Magnificent-North’s-coziest-inn or who-made-really-good-pies.
And she didn’t want this to happen because Jacks was controlling the emotions of every person she met.
“I don’t want anyone here because you used your magic on them,” she said now.
Jacks flashed one of his dimples, attempting to look innocent. Others might have been fooled—even Evangeline was tempted, but she knew him far too well.
“Don’t tell me you wouldn’t do that,” she said.
“Oh, I would absolutely love to do that.” His grin turned wicked. “But as much as I enjoy ruining the lives of people who deserve it, no one is going to be here because of me.”
Jacks once again used the strings of her apron to pull Evangeline closer to the window, where a delight of little dragons was nibbling on crumbs left from pies that she’d cooled on the sill.
She really needed to clean up.
“Stop worrying about the pies,” Jacks ordered.
Then his hand was on her chin. He tilted it up until she was looking above the dragons, out toward the Hollow’s whimsical garden where she and Jacks had set up all sorts of booths and stands and cheerful bunting.
A number of booths were for local vendors selling traditional Northern treats like glass-blown pumpkins, dragon-roasted apples, and miniature ships in bottles.
But some of the stands were entirely for Evangeline’s creations, like the Tree of Treasure Hunts, which children could climb to retrieve a map that would lead to actual treasure hidden throughout the grounds.
There was also a Tent of Curiosities, inspired by Evangeline’s father’s shop.
Although her parents weren’t there to give her advice, she had tried to imagine what they would have done.
Right now, the tent was quite small, and it still needed a few more things, but one day she hoped it would grow into a proper curiosity shop, just like her father’s.
“This is why people will be here,” Jacks said, his voice soft. “This is all your magic, Little Fox.”
He pressed a kiss to her neck and a shiver danced down her spine. Then he pressed another one on the corner of her jaw. She closed her eyes and—
A gust of wind blew in through the open window, knocking it hard against the wall. Glass rattled. Pies shook. Kissing stopped. The wind sounded like whispering thunder, loud and quiet all at once, as it whooshed and whirled, forming a cylinder in the center of the tavern.
Dragons squeaked out little sparks of fire that were quickly caught in the circling wind. Evangeline had never seen anything like it. It looked almost like a dance, if wind and fire could choose to dance.
Jacks quickly pulled Evangeline away from the window as the wind continued to move through the tavern.
She tried to grab The Happy Innkeeper’s Guide to All Things Wonderful, afraid it would be swept up in the gale.
The book’s pages were flipping wildly, but Jacks wouldn’t let Evangeline go near it.
He wouldn’t let her go. He often held her tight, but something about this felt different.
And then, suddenly, the whirlwind stopped, as abruptly as it had started.
The tavern was still. All the dragons had vanished, but leaves and flowers and twigs were scattered everywhere—on the floor, on the bar, on the tables. And …
Jacks’s arms were no longer around her. He was still standing near the bar, but Evangeline was alone in the center of the room.
Gooseflesh covered her arms as she stood there, holding a fistful of brilliant, bright red berries, so fresh their deep red juice dripped down her hands onto the wooden tavern floor.