Page 6

Hannah

Dammit! I’m so screwed. There’s a huge problem with this plan. Massive! Me—I’m the problem. How the hell am I supposed to win a magical competition if I don’t even know what kind of magic I have, let alone how to use it?

My phone’s working again, so I shoot a text to my witch bestie Naomi. Are you still on Earth?

There’s no reply, but I didn’t really expect one, since it’s already past six in the evening.

Naomi’s got the farthest commute of anyone anywhere.

She works in her Ferndale Falls bookshop by day and goes home to her gorgeous orc husband in Faerie each night.

Her witchy teleportation powers make it faster than any drive, but it sure puts her phone out of range.

Text me as soon as you get to town in the morning.

I need help with magic and fae stuff , I type.

I’m using the bookstore this evening for a meeting.

Hope it’s okay! I wince. Naomi might have given me a key, but this is the first time I’ve used the shop in this way.

Still, it’s also the place that feels right, since it’s where I learned about magic and Faerie.

That meeting I mentioned? It’s more important than ever , I text to Skye. As town librarian, she’s got everyone’s contact info. Get all the women who could see magic to meet at I Touch My Shelf tonight at 8.

Already on it.

Tell them it’s to talk about magic , I reply. But if they need to tell other people something, we can say we’re starting a book club.

Yes!!! A series of exuberant emojis follow. Autumn says she’s bringing drinks.

Perfect! See you then! A grin stretches my cheeks as I slide my phone into my back pocket. If there’s one thing I can always count on, it’s my friends.

A chipmunk skitters across the forest path several feet in front of me, and a tiny voice says, “Bigs! Bigs are coming!”

“Who said that?” I ask, but get no response.

Walking on, I kick up a clump of dried pine needles, making them shower over a fern in a cloud of orange confetti. I immediately feel bad and lean over to brush it off, setting the fiddleheads swaying.

“Rude,” a male voice says—the same one I heard in the palace garden. “What did that poor plant ever do to you?”

“Okay, enough!” I yell, hands on hips. “I’m tired of hearing voices! Whoever you are, come out now or piss off!”

Movement makes the waxy leaves of a nearby rhododendron shiver, and a flash of orange appears through the gaps, in colorful contrast to the heavy white flowers.

“I saw that!”

“I meant for you to.” A red fox pads out from behind the bush and sits down, wrapping his floofy, white-tipped tail around his front feet like a cat.

Most of his fur is a rich orange that makes me think of autumn leaves, pumpkin spice lattes, and snuggling into my favorite sweater.

He’s also got dark brown legs and a white chest and throat that extend upward to the bottom of his face so that his dark whiskers clearly show.

He’s smaller than I expected, less than two-feet tall, so only a little bigger than a house cat, and a third of him seems to be tail.

“Trust me. You’re not going to see me unless I want you to. ”

Shock zips through me. It’s really him speaking! “You… you… you’re a fox!”

“How astute,” he says dryly. “Are all humans this observant, or did I get lucky and get one of the smarter witches?”

“Are you fae werefox?” I’ve met several fae shifters: dragons, werewolves, and werepanthers. “Do you shift into a human form?”

“No!” He sounds horrified, his tail lashing. “Why would I ever want to do that? I’m amazing.”

“But you’re talking.” I spread my hands, palms up.

He lets out a long-suffering sigh. “I’m your familiar. Or more accurately, you’re my witch.”

“My familiar! That’s amazing!” I’ve read a little about how familiars can aid their witches. “Did you show up now to help me win the bride trials?”

“I showed up now because I was ready to do so.” He gives me a fox grin. “Although, of course, you’ll have a much better chance of winning with me around.”

“I’m sure I will.” I crouch down and extend a hand. “Do you like ear scratchies?”

“Let’s find out.” He saunters forward, his amber eyes watching me carefully.

I keep my touch light at first, skimming my fingertips over the silky fur of his forehead, then curve around the back of one of his ears, letting my nails dig into the crease. The fox doesn’t smell exactly like a dog—his scent’s musky with a floral note that I like.

His eyes slowly close to halfway, and he starts to purr! It’s a rumbling growl on each exhale instead of a continuous sound like a cat, but it’s a purr, and it’s too freaking cute!

I switch to the other ear and repeat my attentions, marveling at how soft his fur is.

When I finally pull my hand away, his eyes open and he snaps at me, his mouth closing around the meat of my hand with only the lightest brush of fangs.

“Dwhph shwphe,” he says.

“I can’t understand you.”

The fox drops his grip on my hand. “I didn’t say you could stop.”

“Like it, do you?” I chuckle and give him more scratchies. “I’m Hannah. What’s your name?”

“Hmmm,” he hums, leaning against my knee. “I doubt you can say it.” He gives a deep chuff of a bark followed by a few yips.

I repeat it as best I can.

He laughs, the high ha-ha-has sounding almost human. “ Your accent is atrocious. We’ll stick to your language. Foxish is clearly too complicated for you.”

I grin, amused by how sassy he is. “Clearly.”

Magic tingles around us for several seconds. Then he says, “I have picked a human name. You may call me Finn.”

“Finn the fox.”

He snorts. “I rather think the fox part is apparent, so just Finn.”

“It’s nice to meet you, just Finn.” I push to standing. “I’ve got to get back to town.”

“Humans. You’re always dashing around, but none of it looks like hunting.”

“You’re right. A trip to the grocery store is way down on my list of priorities.

” I continue along the path to the waterfall.

“My life’s more complicated than that. Especially lately.

” Oh, god. Am I really telling an animal I just met all of my problems?

When people say they have a therapy pet, I don’t think this is what they mean.

Or maybe it is. I remember whispering preteen angst into the fur of Benji’s neck as he let me hug him after a long day of school. The mixed-breed rescue was part golden retriever, part something else, and the best boy, always greeting me with doggie kisses and a wagging tail.

I haven’t had a pet since I went away to college, because I couldn’t have one in my dorm room. When I moved back to Ferndale Falls and into my own cottage, I kept telling myself I didn’t have the time to give a pet the attention they deserve, but maybe I should have made time.

“What are you thinking?” Finn says from right beside me .

I startle. He’s so silent that the sound of the waterfall kept me from realizing he’s been slipping through the woods to my right. “You’re still here.”

“Where else would I be?” His ears tip forward in what looks like a fox frown. “Didn’t you hear me earlier? I’m your familiar, which means you’re my witch. We’re bonded.”

“Bonded.” I grin. “I like that.”

He snorts again, but his ears are high, his bushy tail lifted like a perky flag, the white tip waving higher than the fiddleheads.

The trees open up on the waterfall, the continuous rush of splashing water soothing, but I don’t have any time to linger, so I circle the pond to take the trail to town.

A blur of bright blue darts past the corner of my eye, and I whip around to peer into the trees. “Did you see that?”

“Yes.”

“Thank god! I thought I was seeing things as well as hearing them.” I shove my hair off my face. “Do you know what it is?”

“No, and I don’t like it.” Finn gives an irritated bark. “I should know what everything is—this forest is my home.”

“It’s probably a fae,” I say.

“It was glowing .” Finn sounds affronted.

“It was magic.” A thrill thrums through me. Talking to Finn proves it once and for all. I really am a witch!

I just need to figure out my powers, so I can win this bride thingy, marry Severin, and save Ferndale Falls before the protection spell wears off in two weeks. How hard can it be?