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CHAPTER TWO

I GOT LUNCH SERVED BY five minutes past noon. I barely noticed what it was. I hurried out into the dining room, where Ghaliya was putting the trays of utensils and napkins on the sideboard. The plates were already stacked on the end.

I pushed the tray filled with mushroom casserole into the steamer and dropped the lid and hurried back to the kitchen for the big bowl of salad, while everyone in the dining room got to their feet and headed for the sideboard.

The locals’ table was three of the square tables pushed together for everyone to sit around. In the last few months it had been moved around the dining room a few times, until it had come to sit in front of the long mullioned windows at the front. The hotel faced south. The sun had been pleasant, during the colder months, and the long table didn’t trip up anyone else.

The remaining tables in the dining room were round, with six chairs at each. Our three guests were at two tables. Two of them were dryads. Their flesh gave them away. It was a coffee-colored brown, with flecks in it, and it looked rough to me, although I had never touched a dryad’s skin before. Not even Wim’s, Haigton’s resident dryad.

The two guests and Wim were the reason I was serving an enormous salad. They preferred raw food. They would eat cooked food if they had to. But never meat.

The solo guest at the other table looked human—a woman in her late thirties. Aurora Caro , she’d written in the guest log. Polite and pleasant but she had put out privacy signals every time I’d spoken to her. I had a feeling that despite her appearance, she wasn’t quite human.

Until Christmas last year, I’d believed dryads, vampires and magic were the realm of fiction. I was still learning about the Otherworld—the world that lived between, around, and beneath the human world, hidden away most of the time. I was waiting to find a good time to ask the locals what species our third guest was. I couldn’t begin to guess.

I brought the big salad out from the kitchen and had to weave between diners to reach the sideboard and place it beside the warming trays.

Then I settled at the long table to wait for the line to diminish, and took a few breaths, trying to make myself relax. I wasn’t remotely hungry, but if I didn’t eat, everyone would be alarmed and want to know what was wrong.

I rose to my feet and served a single spoonful of the casserole on my plate, grabbed a bread roll and headed back to the table.

I don’t know how it had happened, but my customary seat at the table was now at the end, with the window on my right, which let me look out over the crossroads. The chair at the other end of the table often went empty. Everyone sat at my end of the table, and not everyone came to every meal.

The chair was empty again today, which relieved me. I wouldn’t accidentally meet anyone’s eyes.

I tore the roll into breadcrumbs and picked at the casserole, waiting for the meal to be over. My gut was tight and hard, and it felt as though it was tightening even harder, every time I thought about the letter sitting in the kitchen.

The other two tables were closer to the kitchen. Everyone at my table spoke freely, but quietly. The chatter covered the usual subjects. I tuned them out until Broch—who always sat at the table, with a napkin elegantly draped across his lap—said, “Ghaliya, I had a great deal of trouble getting online this morning. Does the router need rebooting?”

Ghaliya burped softly and put her fingers over her wide lips. “Ooops. ‘scuse me. I can have a look at it after lunch for you. I wasn’t having any issues and I’ve been online all morning. Did you reboot your laptop?”

Broch frowned. “Juda used to say that all the time. I don’t understand how rebooting makes such a difference, but it was always the first thing he said.”

I put the last piece of bread back on my plate. With the reminder of Juda, I couldn’t even pretend to eat, now.

Everyone else at the table also paused for a moment.

“Juda…” Ben Marcus said softly. Heavily.

Juda had been a resident of Haigton. He’d built and maintained the internet connection for the whole town—something that stopped everyone from going insane with lockdown fever and also gave us a window upon the rest of the world. We ordered in groceries, household goods and everything else we needed.

And Juda had day-traded online and made everyone in the town wealthy.

Then he had killed himself, right out there in the middle of the crossroads I could see through the window. No one here had understood that the will of Haigton spoke through Juda, and had used him, too. It had harangued him into killing my mother, to bring me to Haigton. When Juda remembered what he had done, his guilt had been so heavy, he had slashed his throat open.

I glanced at Ghaliya. She had been drawn to Juda, but had watched him kill himself. We all had.

She sighed, then bent and ate another spoonful of casserole.

Ghaliya was teaching herself computer coding and server maintenance, and was the only one who could coax along the network that served the whole town.

Broch shifted uncomfortably on his chair. It was one of the few times I’ve ever seen him look awkward or embarrassed. He’d reminded everyone about Juda.

Olivia, Wim’s wife and the unofficial mayor of the town, stirred and said, “It’s nice to see the hotel with a guest or two, Anna. Don’t you think?”

She was changing subjects.

I could almost feel everyone’s relief.

“It’s almost a shock to have paying guests,” I admitted. “There haven’t been any since I arrived.”

“Always a lull after the solstice,” Hirom observed, and tore off nearly half his bread roll and chewed. He was a dwarf. I was still trying to figure out if he was the human kind of dwarf or the kind I’d once read about only in fiction. Despite his size, he could eat more than anyone else at the table. Perhaps he needed the calories because he spent every day serving drinks in the bar, rolling barrels down into the cellar, or carrying them up to the bar.

“But now we’re coming up on Beltane,” Trevalyan said.

Everyone nodded, except Ghaliya.

“What has Beltane to do with it?” I asked.

“Oh, Beltane is a lovely time of year,” Olivia said softly, with a small smile. “Haigton actually feels busy, around Beltane.”

“I know Beltane was one of the Celtic feasts,” I said. “It’s celebrated here, too?”

“It’s celebrated in many places,” Ben Marcus said. “Including here.”

I realized I was looking at him and quickly looked away.

“Folks travel up the Greenway,” Broch said. “Like the pair, yonder.” He didn’t quite nod his head toward the table with the dryads. “You’ll have plenty of guests, come Beltane eve.”

I stared at him, dismayed. I was already slammed to the max running this place with only Frida and Hirom to help me. Our three guests were pushing my limits.

How the hell would I manage if all fourteen rooms were full? Each room had two beds, and two of them had four beds. “We could end up with anywhere from fourteen guests to…” I calculated quickly what the maximum occupancy would be. “Thirty-two guests?”

“Oh, definitely thirty-two guests,” Olivia said brightly. “Folks will share rooms. Even strangers will bunk together so they can stay at the Haigton Hotel.” Her voice held pride.

Broch didn’t smile as he said, “Folks will camp in the trees around the town, too. Those who don’t like to be inside. And those who can’t get rooms here. But they’ll drink in the bar, and they’ll eat in the dining room.”

My horror grew. “Oh my god…” I breathed. “That’s why you’ve been bringing in all the barrels, Hirom?”

I had noticed that the cellar was close to bursting with towers of barrels, when before he’d only kept a few reserve barrels at the back of it. And Hirom had been out in the forest working his still for weeks, now. Those bottles were lined up on the shelves in the cellar, too.

Hirom raised his brow and grinned.

“And this is all for Beltane? I thought one of the solstices would be more…I don’t know. Important?”

“They’re all important,” Trevalyan said. “But spring is renewal and rebirth. It calls to all of us.”

Not to me . I held the retort back. Spring in L.A. had meant dust, allergies and headaches. But then I realized that I hadn’t sneezed once in the last few weeks. And no headaches either.

More of Haigton’s mysterious magic?

“Everyone comes for the bonfire,” Trevalyan said. “We start the bonfire at sunset on Beltane eve, and keep it burning until midnight, when Beltane begins.”

“I thought…isn’t three a.m. the spirit hours?” I asked.

“It is,” Trevalyan confirmed. “But the wild power begins to gather at sunset of the eve of the feast day. It peaks at three a.m. and recedes until dawn.”

“It’s a lovely time, watching the fire burn, having a drink and talking to the folk who stop by just for the feast day,” Olivia added.

I looked around the table, my heart thudding. I need help , I told myself. But Ghaliya couldn’t help any more than she was already. Hirom and Frida already worked their butts off. Frida sat beside Ben as usual, for he had healed her wounds from a bear attack, some years ago. The wounds had left her mute, with a deeply scarred face and with a raging case of agoraphobia. She lived in the hotel and cleaned for me. Now we had guests, she worked harder than ever. She looked as though she was nodding off to sleep right there at the table.

I wasn’t going to ask Ben Marcus for help. Nuh-uh.

Trevalyan helped Ben by making medicinals, guarded the town’s borders, and had an official role with Parks and Recreation as the supervisor of the Finger—the giant lodestone located a mile north of the town. Wim and Olivia grew food in the empty houses beyond the main street and as the whole town benefited from their efforts, I couldn’t take them away from their indoor gardens. Broch just scared people off. Most folk sensed what he was and walked around him carefully.

That left Harper.

I looked at the woman who had seated herself in the last chair along the table to give her a view through the windows. She’d removed her hat to eat, and her long black wavy hair was pushed over her shoulders, which left her clear, sharp jaw and pointed chin visible, along with her fine black eyes.

I didn’t know Harper well at all. She made the private people in this town look like raging extroverts. I had no idea what she did to keep herself occupied during the days. At night, she often sat at the local’s table in the bar, drinking Hirom’s private label whisky, and rarely speaking.

Harper was good at brooding.

“Harper, I could use your help in the hotel for the next couple of weeks, if you can spare the time.”

Harper didn’t look up from her plate. “I can’t.”

I stared at her, astonished. “Not even for a few days? Perhaps just the evenings?” For she was here most evenings anyway.

“No.”

“I’ll be run off my feet. I can pay you—” Although I wasn’t sure how I would manage that. I’d figure it out later. “I’d ask Ghaliya, but…”

Harper looked up. Her black eyes were filled with some emotion I couldn’t quite name, but I suspected it was anger. That was her go-to mood. “I said no.” Her tone was flat.

I stared at her, genuinely speechless.

Movement from the corner of my eye caught my attention. I looked through the windows toward the crossroads.

“Cars…” I said breathlessly.

For two cars were rolling slowly through the intersection. Black, plain sedans. I couldn’t tell what model they were. They were too nondescript.

As everyone turned to look through the windows, the cars came to a halt beside the sidewalk in front of the hotel.

Four people got out of the rear vehicle, and two emerged from the front one. All of them, including the two women, wore conservative suits, blue or white shirts and plain ties.

“ Suits ,” Ghaliya breathed.

The tallest among the people standing on the sidewalk examining the hotel had salt and pepper hair. I put him at mid-forties. Fit, tanned and crewcut. He was frowning at the facade. Then he said something to the others and headed for the front door.

“Suits coming here,” I added, getting to my feet.

I heard the front door open as I moved out of the dining room. I hurried to meet the man as he stepped in. He looked around, sizing up the place. His gaze tracked the stairs and the door to the bar, then he turned to watch me approach.

When I got closer to him, I saw that he was taller than I had guessed. He wasn’t quite frowning as he examined me, but he wasn’t smiling, either.

“And you are…?” he asked.

“Usually, the guest introduces themselves first,” I said.

He paused, and the corner of his jaw flexed. He reached into his jacket pocket and withdrew a wallet, that he flipped open to display the ID inside. “Agent Axel King. FBI. I’m looking for Harper Gibbs. Can you tell me where I can find her?”

I couldn’t help it. I swiveled on my heel and turned to look through the big archway into the dining room. Everyone stood there, including Harper.

Everyone turned to look at Harper, too.

She crossed her arms, one foot thrust out for balance. “I’m Harper. What do you want?” Her usual anger rolled off her.

Agent King put his ID away. He turned to glance through the open door, and gave a short, sharp whistle. Then he looked back at Harper. “I need to ask you a few questions, Ms. Gibbs.”

“What about?” Harper replied.

Just cooperate ! I railed at her silently. We’d got used to her recalcitrant ways, but this agent would misinterpret.

Agent King spread his feet. The other agents stepped inside and ranged behind him, a solid phalanx of official suitdom. “About the murder of Raymond Calloway,” King said. His eyes narrowed. He was watching Harper, measuring her reaction.

Harper’s arms loosened and dropped to her sides. “Who the hell is Raymond Calloway?”