Page 33

Hannah

“Nooo,” I moan as the fluffy cloud slips away from the sun, allowing it to flood my backyard with brightness. “Come back, little buddy!”

“I thought I was your little buddy.” Finn wiggles on my lap, reminding me I’m supposed to be giving him scratchies.

“You are.” I dig my fingers into the soft fur of his upper chest, and he rewards me with one of his lovely purrs.

I slouch farther down the reclining lawn chair, nursing a ginormous travel mug of coffee. Normally when I’m home, I use cute little ceramic cups handmade by a local potter. But small cups equal extra trips to the kitchen, and that would mean moving .

“Note to self: orc ale is evil.” I take a big gulp of coffee.

“You should have gone hunting with me,” Finn says. “Much more sensible. I had berries and a nice juicy mole, and neither of those gave me a headache.”

“I had fun getting this headache,” I say. “No regrets.” Okay, a few regrets, but mostly that I forgot to drink water and down a couple of aspirin when Severin dropped me off last night.

Still buzzing from that kiss in the bar—and the orc ale—I invited him in. He said no, because I was tipsy, which I hated at the time but find kind of sweet in the harsh light of day. But he did promise to take me on another fake date tonight. I wonder where we’ll go this time.

“Bugs!” A bird chirps. “Bugs and sex!”

“Sex!” another answers.

A surprised laugh sputters out of me, making my head hurt. Oh, god. I so totally need an off switch for my magic.

“What?” Finn nips at my hand, teeth barely touching my skin. “You stopped scratching.”

Digging under his chin, I say, “Just the birds being funny.”

Finn purrs, the aspirin kicks in, and for all its brightness, the warm sun feels good. I set my coffee down on the little wooden side table and relax backward. I might have slept in, but a nap sounds perfect.

“Seeds,” a tiny voice says. “More seeds. More.”

Finn tenses on my lap, and I crack open one eye and follow his keen gaze to where a chipmunk skitters across the edge of the backyard, its little cheeks already bulging. It pauses and stands upright, tiny hands bringing a small bite to its mouth.

Finn rolls slowly onto his stomach, his back feet digging into my thighs, his bushy tail smacking my face .

“Don’t you dare,” I whisper-hiss, pushing his tail aside.

“Danger!” the chipmunk squeaks, darting back into the underbrush of the forest.

“Humph,” Finn grumbles. “I might have chosen you to be my witch, but I’m still a wild animal.”

“That doesn’t mean I need you to go all Animal Planet right in front of me.”

His tail swishes back and forth. “I might be able to suppress my natural instincts for the right inducement.”

“That being?” My lips quirk. Bless his little mercenary heart.

“Peanuts.”

“Sure, bud.” I stroke my hand down his back as he relaxes onto my lap. “You can have a few peanuts.”

His ears perk up. “Now?”

“Do we have to get up right this second?” I whine.

“The chipmunk was now, so my inducement should be as well.”

“Fine.”

Before I can move, my phone rings. “Hi, Mom.”

“Hannah! I’m so glad I caught you. I read the most interesting thing this morning.”

I brace for today’s cringey sex fact, hoping it’s not another lecture on sperm count.

“A little over three-hundred years ago, one of your ancestors on your father’s side claimed she could talk to animals! Can you imagine?”

“Oh! That would be so cool.” I grin and give Finn’s ears a scratch. This magic runs in my family! “What happened to her? ”

“There was talk about her being a witch, but the family was some kind of minor nobility back in England, so it looks like they were able to hush it up. There hasn’t been anything else since.” Mom’s tone goes regretful. “I’m sorry I couldn’t find much.”

“What you found is great, and I appreciate you looking.” It’s good to know this witch power runs in my blood.

Who knows how many women in the years in between would have been able to talk to animals if there’d been magic in the world?

I’m so glad that Naomi reopened the doors of Faerie.

As weird as it’s all been, my magic feels like a part of me.

And it brought me Severin.

Mom uses her mother-telepathy powers and reads my mind from across several –hundred miles. “So, how are things going with your young man? Can I expect any grandbabies yet?”

“Mom, you’ve got to stop asking that!” But I know she won’t.

“I’m sorry! I just want you to have someone in your life. You don’t have to have children yet, but I don’t like the thought of you being alone.”

“I’m not alone. I’m still dating Severin. Things are getting a little serious.” Not a complete lie—marriage is serious, even fake marriage—but I’m not going to mention the M word unless I win this last bride trial. There’s no point in getting her hopes up if things go totally pear shaped.

“Severin! What an interesting name.”

“I think it’s an old family one… from Europe.”

“Even if you’re not having babies yet, the washing machine trick is still great. ”

“Mom!”

“Hey, orgasms are important, and not just his.”

I laugh, shaking my head. She’s not wrong, but this is the kind of convo I want to have with my besties, not my mother.

“I love you,” I say.

“Love you, too. Tell that young man your father and I plan to meet him soon.”

We say our goodbyes, and the second I slip my phone back into my pocket, Finn rolls from my lap to stand, head pointed toward the kitchen door. “I haven’t forgotten the peanuts, you know.”

“I’m on it.”

Right as I get up, leaves rustle as one of the rhododendrons edging the back of the yard shakes.

“Berries?” A porcupine’s head pokes out from behind a cluster of pink flowers.

It waddles forward, its long quills clearing the bush.

Then two more tiny ones follow, little balls of whisker-thin silvery quills propelled forward by tiny black feet.

Awww! It’s the mommy and babies I met a couple of days ago!

The mother’s dark eyes watch me carefully, or maybe she’s watching Finn. “You have berries?”

Rune steps out from behind a tree, his amber eyes flashing gold as he eyes the newcomers. “Everything okay here?”

The mother turns to face him, and the babies burrow into her side, trying to hide.

“Everything’s fine,” I say in a soft voice. “These are friends. ”

“Fine, if you like being poked with quills,” Finn grumps.

“Hush, you,” I say. “Leave them alone, and no quill poking needs to happen.”

“Humph.”

I pull out my phone and do a quick search for what porcupines eat. When I discover they’re herbivores, I make a mental list of everything in the fridge. “I don’t have any berries, but I do have baby carrots.”

The mother moves closer, her babies following close behind. “Try carrots.”

I leave Finn in the kitchen, crunching on a handful of unsalted peanuts.

When I return with their snack, the mother porcupine spins in place a couple of times in excitement.

Then she takes a baby carrot in her front hands and brings it to her mouth.

Whoa. She’s got big teeth like a beaver, and they’re as orange as the carrot!

I didn’t really see her teeth the other day because she was gnawing on a tree while we talked, telling me she likes maples the best.

I fish out the smallest of the carrots and give them to the babies. They all go to work, those big teeth crunching away.

“Good, good,” the babies coo. Happy little num-num noises fill the yard, sounding like little cartoon people talking in nonsense words. It’s so freaking cute I have to hug myself to keep from reaching for them.

Forget being the wacky woman who tromps through the forest with cargo pants full of food. The animals are going to follow me home instead. And I’m so totally okay with that.

“Thank you,” the mother says once she finishes the rest of the carrots .

The babies echo her in tiny squeaking voices, “Tank oo!”

They scamper back into the trees, and I watch the place where they disappear until the swaying fiddleheads fall still.

My magic slips outward, tracking them as they head deeper into the forest. Other little blips fill my awareness, chipmunks and birds.

A grin stretches my cheeks. All of my training has paid off.

I can detect nearby animals and talk to them.

I love my power. I always dreamed of being able to talk to animals, to let them know they can trust me.

But my magic isn’t very physical. I sure as hell can’t do cool things like fly and use shadows like Meloria or tunnel through the ground and throw around rocks like Ruby.

I barely figured out a way to use it for the second trial.

Ferndale Falls’s prosperity and any possible relationship I could have with Severin, fake or not, depends on me winning the last trial.

Will my magic be enough?