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My roommate Adria looks up from the book she’s reading. “What?”
“I found it when I was hiking. I mean, I don’t know if a witch actually built it. It could have been a fairy or an old man or who knows what. All I know for sure is that the perfect cottage exists, it seems magical, and I want it. No shade to this beautiful apartment we share.”
Adria grins. Our apartment is cute for what it is, but kinda small for two people,
especially one who longs for a big yard instead of a tiny balcony. “Is it for sale?”
I shrug. “Not that I know of, but it doesn’t look lived-in either. It’s not dilapidated or anything. It just has that air of abandonment to it. But it’s perfect, with wildflowers in the yard and an herb garden on one side. Isolated enough for privacy, but not so far from town as to betotallyinconvenient. I tried looking it up online, but it’s not like it has an address. It’s just plonked in the middle of a clearing in the woods, partway up the mountain.”
“Hmm,” Adria says. “You should talk to Laia Tahiri about it.”
“Who?”
“Laia Tahiri. She’s the best real estate agent in town, over at McCray’s Realty. Remember, she took it over after Dave McCray retired, though I don’t know why she kept the name.” Adria purses her lips thoughtfully. “Anyway, if anyone can find out more about your magic cottage, it would be her.” She plucks a book from the never-ending pile at her side and hands it to me. “By the way, this came into the store today. I thought you’d like it.”
It’s a lovely hardbound coffee table book withHaven’s Hollow: Legends and Loreembossed in gold print. The cover features Lake Eerie and has beautiful sparkling little pixies scattered through the trees. It reminds me ofEnchanted Forest, my favorite board game as a kid.
“Ooh, I can’t wait to dive into this one!” I say. “You are the best, Adria Shah. And good idea on the Laia Tahiri thing. I’ll give her a call and see if she knows anything about it. I don’t know how you research a property that doesn’t have an obvious address, but she probably does.”
Adria sticks a bookmark in her novel. As the owner of The Novel Nook, she’d never be caught dogearing one. “Other than that, any plans for your vacation?”
I have an unexpected week off from Queen of Tarts, thanks to covering for my boss while she was dealing with an emergency. I don’t know all the details—Libra is pretty private—but I do know a guy died and Libra went through some shit. I told her I didn’t need a whole week off, but she insisted, and you know what they say about a gift horse (although—what the hell even is a gift horse?).
“I think I’m going to do a hiking/camping thing on the mountain,” I say.
Adria smirks. “Call it that if you like, but we both know what it is: amateur cryptozoologist at work.”
I shrug. “I am what I am. And besides, it’s not like it’s a field you can go pro in.” I give the book on my lap a thump. “Besides, this is just more evidence that the folk were here once. And maybe still are! I’m gonna find something one of these days.”
“More power to you,” she says. “Me, I’m perfectly content to read about mythical monsters, rather than meeting one.”
I’m not sure what to say to that. Adria doesn’t know about my family’s heritage, and it’s not something I’m eager to bring up. Not that I really think it would cause a rift between us, but…you never know.
As far as I can tell, she’s not keen on the mythical and the magical. Which is why it’s weird she’s chosen to live here, in Haven’s Hollow. The mayor has pointed ears, for heaven’s sake!
Griffin and the rest of the Bishops are human, but somewhere way back when, an elf dabbled in the family gene pool. To this day, they all have super blond hair, wildly blue eyes, and adorably peaked ear tips. Of course, they blame it on some quirk of DNA, which I guess it technically is, but certainly not in the way they’re trying to suggest.
All the same, the Bishops don’t seem to bother Adria in the least, so she might not care about my slightly more-than-human ancestry either. But just to be safe, I keep my mouth shut about it.
“Anyway,” I say. “I’m heading out early in the morning and I plan to be gone for several days. There’s no phone reception up there, so I’ll be incommunicado. But I’ve packed plenty of essentials.”
“Okay. I trust that you know what you’re doing. Just be careful. My weather app is saying we could get some heavy storms for the next week or so.”
I quirk a brow. It’s been sunny and beautiful for the past ten days. “Well, I guess I’ll have to cross my fingers that the app is wrong and the good weather holds out. But if not, I have an umbrella and a poncho. And I can always come home early if I get rained out.”
Adria nods. “Happy monster hunting. I hope you catch a big one.”
* * *
OAKLYN
I’m up before dawn the next day, well before Adria has even begun stirring. I grab coffee and a quick breakfast of avocado toast and berries, then put my pack and my tent in my Jeep. There’s a general parking area at the base of one of the mountains where several trails begin, and lots of people leave their vehicles there.
The signs make it clear that you’re supposed to stick to the marked paths; the trails have varying levels of difficulty, so there’s a little something for everyone.
The postings are funny, saying things likeCaution, up there be dragonsandDanger, watch for falling orcs. Notices and silly puns that play into the town’s monster lore, but are really meant to keep people safe from mudslides or whatever. As always, I ignore them. I’ve never been a rule-follower, and I don’t want to go where there will be a ton of people.
I snag my gear and start with one of the marked paths, just to get me about a quarter of the way up, before I diverge. I’m an experienced hiker, and a few rocks and bushes aren’t enough to slow me down.
