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“It’s not an altar. It’s a collection of things that I found and that I think are cool.” Were they magical? He doubted it. He had a bit of amber, an Aussie coin from the year he was born, a love letter and a pressed flower that had been tucked inside a vintage book of poetry that he’d ordered online, and a liquor bottle in a funky shape that he’d been using as a candle holder and was now coated in myriad colors of wax and a much smaller Victorian medicine bottle that now held an incense stick. There were a few pieces that he’d bought at auctions—nothing expensive, but things he’d wanted because he liked the vibe. He had a planchette that had once been used in seances, a funeral pocket watch that didn’t work, but he liked the black enamel and engraving on the case and the hidden lover’s eye painting on the inside, and a silver necklace that he wore all the time. There’d been other things that he’d seen and wanted but couldn’t afford.

His mother had called his collections magpie behavior and regularly threw them out when he was growing up. Until he’d learned to hide them in a shoe box under his bed. Living with his aunt was the first time he’d felt safe enough to leave them out, and he loved being able to see the things when he walked into his room.

Nan smiled. “They have meaning for you, and that’s the only magic that matters. Now put your walking shoes on and bring that big backpack of yours.”

“Why? Are we going hiking?”

“If there’s no power at the pub, there’s food we need to bring home.” She opened the freezer door. “I’ll bring the ice packs in case there’s anything to save.”

There was no point in arguing with her, and if there was no power, they couldn’t open. Assuming anyone wanted to drink at a bar right next door to a fairy castle.

CHAPTER8

The walk and then drive to the pub was slow, with both of them keeping watch for cracks or sinkholes while taking in the damage to the houses. Amongst the ruined houses were new but ruined buildings, as well as new buildings that appeared to be pristine. There were also pockets of human areas, which appeared to be undamaged.

There was no pattern to what was saved and what was damaged.

As they approached the town center, they had to stop at the police barricade. Linda spoke to them for at least ten minutes, then they were allowed through because they had a business to check on and food that could be donated to the emergency accommodation that had been set up. They were given a number to call to report the damage. They were warned to stay away from any of the new buildings and to also report any sightings of mythological beings.

Noah glanced at Nan. “What are they going to do to the mythological beings? Like, why do we need to report sightings?”

“I don’t know what they’re going to do. Maybe they are working on the assumption they are all dangerous.”

“So we report, and they arrest? I think we’re going to run out of room in the jail.”

Nan pressed her lips together. “They might treat them like refugees.”

“As I said, we’ll run out of jail room.” How many mythological beings were now in town? Were they confused and frightened of humans? None of this world was familiar to them.

Nan made a noise of agreement. “We don’t have to report. I think it’s more of a friendly request than an order. If we see a mythological in trouble or who needs medical care, then we seek help, but otherwise, we make them a cup of tea and move on with our business.”

“Uh-huh.” It had not sounded like a request from the cops. “You realize it’s only a matter of time before the cops want to knock on the door to the fairy castle.”

“They don’t know there’s a door. And since it’s in my pub, I get to knock first.”

Noah took his gaze off the road for a second. “You’re not actually going to knock on the door?” If she did that and was dragged inside, his uncle was going to kill him. His aunt would kill him.

If Nan went through the door, he had to follow.

“Why not?”

“Oh, I don’t know, a hundred fairytales saying it’s a bad idea? You warning me not to play with things I don’t understand?” It may not be fairies on the other side. He wasn’t sure if that made it better or worse.

Nan lifted her eyebrows. “And who wrote those fairytales?”

It sounded like a trick question, so Noah wasn’t sure how to answer. “We did?”

“And what kind of fairytales do you think they tell about us? How much truth do you think is in those tales? Some of them are hundreds of years old and have been translated and re-translated and edited numerous times…who knows what the truth was?” Her eyes gleamed as though this was the most exciting thing to happen in her lifetime.

His mother had warned him that his grandmother was odd and that the death of her husband had made it worse. His mother had never believed in tales of dragons and mermaids and knockers and elves. They were for children, or they were superstitious nonsense from a time before science.

More like from a time when those beings came to the human world, which begged the question why they stopped.

“Please don’t get kidnapped by fairies. Auntie Mer will kill me.”

Nan patted his knee. “Don’t fret. I’m going to offer them a drink and some of the food before it spoils, that’s all.”

“That doesn’t mean they won’t kidnap you.”