Page 13 of Mated to the Monster Under my Bed

"Maybe. I don’t know." I took a deep breath. “But we can’t just stand here all day—let’s try your charm.”

Harmony held up the charm.

"Okay—ready?"

I took a step back and nodded.

Harmony closed her eyes and chanted softly:

"Power bound and purpose true,

Tell us what we need to do.

Harm or no harm, now reveal,

What intent this room conceals."

The charm stone in her hand flickered to life. The plain gray surface began to glow and change colors. First, we saw a soft green glow.

"Oh," Harmony breathed, relieved. "That’s good. No harm intended. See?"

But just as the words left her mouth, the green shimmer deepened—rippled—and slowly shifted into a new color.

It was a deep, regal purple—it pulsed like a heartbeat in the palm of Harmony’s hand.

Her eyes went wide.

"Wow. That…is new."

I swallowed hard.

"If red means harm, green means good, and yellow means neutral, what does purple mean?"

"I have no idea," she admitted. "I've never seen it turn that color before. We definitely need to talk to Madam Healer. She’ll know. Come on—let’s go see her."

I nodded and looked down at myself with a sigh.

"Okay. I just wish I wasn’t wearing a bathrobe for this."

Then it occurred to me that the cottage had provided me with food and had even drawn a bath for me earlier. At least, I assumed those things were for my benefit. I wondered if maybe it might have provided some clothes as well.

It was probably just wishful thinking, but I crossed the room anyway and opened the closet. There was a long string hanging down and I pulled it to turn on the light, more than half expecting it to be empty.

Instead, it was full. And not just full of any old clothing—these were my clothes from back home!

“Oh, perfect!” I breathed as I rifled through the many clothes hanging in the closet.

My sweaters…my scarves…all the warm things I’d knitted for myself over the years. All of them were hanging neatly in a row.

And beneath them, folded neatly on top of the small dresser which occupied the bottom half of the closet, I found a pair of my favorite yoga pants.

I stared in wonder.

“All my clothes—all my Fall clothes, anyway! Who brought them here? Was it the cottage?”

“It might be.” Harmony nodded thoughtfully. “Houses often have a kind of magical sentience here in Hidden Hollow. Since this is your grandmother’s cottage, it may be looking out for you the way she would have when you were little.”

She came over to run her fingers along the edge of a moss-green cardigan I had made for a trip Craig and I had taken to New England years ago.