Maybe that was why we worked together so well. Well, at least when I didn’t oversleep.
Thea slammed the cookie door behind her, and I winced as a piece of white royal icing cracked and fell to the hardwood floor.
I had to get around to fixing that.
I reached over to turn off the alarm before the snooze ran out and pulled the quilt up to my pillow, careful not to disturb Nutmeg, my dilute orange tabby. She’d be up when she was ready, but like every good cat mom, I didn’t dare disturb her.
I padded to the kitchen, yawning the whole way. I was tired, but excitement bubbled in my chest. Ever since I’d quit my day job last month, I got to wake up and do my favorite thing every day: bake.
And even though my forehead still throbbed where Thea had smacked me, I was grateful to the hob. I had a bunch of orders to fill today. My online reviews said I was doing well, but I couldn’t afford to lose any business. Especially not with my first major payment on the cottage due next week.
Just thinking about it made anxiety streak my hair with strands of gray. It was a family trait, passed down through the magic in our blood. A curse, usually. Though, my dad loved that he didn’t need to guess at my mom’s mood and more than once came home with flowers or chocolate when her hair was dark blue sadness or bright red anger.
The coffee maker was already brewing a fresh pot on the counter, so I pulled my favorite mug (a gorgeous pumpkin orange affair with Basic Witch emblazoned across the front, in purple, of course) down from the rack and took pumpkin spice creamer from the fridge.
As I prepared my first cup of coffee for the day, I flipped open my day planner.
Cookie’s Café: three apple cranberry crumble with bliss
Witch’s Brew Coffee: two apple bourbon with energy
Leonardo’s: five gingersnap pumpkin with the comfort of home
That made ten pies for the day. But Cookie at the café and Jeremy from the coffee shop would want theirs by seven-thirty, which meant the delivery boy would be by to pick them up by seven.
I glanced at the clock on the wall. It was just now 5:32. Less than an hour and a half. I’d have to wait to shower. And dress. And brush my hair.
I set my coffee aside and threw my long blonde hair up in a messy bun. It was still streaked with gray, but the best way to make that go away was to get the orders for the day filled.
I flipped the planner closed, and a bright-yellow paper fluttered to the ground, its gold letters shining in the fluorescent light of the kitchen. Maple, my half-Fae friend from high school, had brought it by just yesterday. The mayor had announced the annual harvest festival, and this year I had a special opportunity. A chance to really put Pie-Jinks on the map.
And a chance to earn enough money that I wouldn’t have to worry about next week’s bill. I was still a thousand dollars short of the balance, and without this prize... Well, I needed this.
I picked up the flier and tilted it, reading the shimmering gold words again.
208th Annual Harvest Festival Dessert Competition
Special Judge: Prince Forrest Autumnleaf
Grand Prize: A contract to be the exclusive baker for the Autumn Court Harvest Ball
I’d been so confused when Maple had shown up at my door, ringing the doorbell incessantly like she always did. The girl had way too much energy. One of these days, she’d make Thea storm out or go on a rampage, and that would be bad for me. Hobs were great helpers around the house, but if you angered or offended one...let’s just say don’t.
But I had to hope Thea and I had a good enough relationship by now that it wouldn’t come to that. Besides, the danger was worth Maple’s news. The contest. All for a special ball hosted by the Autumn Court, visiting from Great Britain, the first Fae to visit our small town. And they were inviting all of Cider Hollow. It was an opportunity for a new, lasting, positive relationship between the Fae and the town. After all, it wasn’t like they were going anywhere any time soon. If the rumors were true, they were building an autumn vacation home in the woods.
I set the flier aside, still dreaming of the desserts I could present and planning when I’d take the entry form to some guy named Emmett at city hall. Then, I began preparing the ingredients for today’s pies. I mixed and rolled the dough for all three crusts with fresh butter from the market. With the butter, the crusts would be flaky and savory. Just like my grandmother’s had been.
Before long, flour dusted the air like fog, and the scent of ginger mingled with my coffee. As soon as my crusts were in the oven, I grabbed my fillings from the refrigerator. I had prepared them last night, since oversleeping was becoming a trend.
Then, all that was left was to add my special touch.
I took down my vials of bliss, energy, and the comfort of home one at a time. Bliss was a little old, but I wouldn’t have time to make more until that afternoon.
I uncorked it and sniffed. Yup, definitely old. It had a tinge of simple joy under the bliss, but I’d have to use it anyway.
I held a teaspoon over the bowl of filling and poured it in. Any more, and the customers eating the pies would be so blissed-out that they wouldn’t go to their jobs.
“A clean home, the laugh of a child,” I recited, feeling magic tickle my skin and gather in the air around me. “A lover’s embrace, a friend’s true smile.”
The words didn’t really do anything, but I liked to remember where each of the potions came from. To share in the memories.
Magic trickled down my fingers to where they grasped the edges of the ceramic mixing bowl. I watched as lemon-yellow light left my fingertips and mingled with the spiced apples and macerated cranberries until it was fully absorbed, just a little extra kick to supplement the potion, then turned the spoon through the filling a few times for good measure.
The timer dinged, and I hurried over to my crusts in the oven.
“Can you keep it down?” came Thea’s voice from my bedroom. “I work all night, you know!”
“Sorry!” I called. I pulled the crusts from the oven.
I added my spells to the other two fillings, filled my shells—and an extra tart-sized shell for Thea—and shoved the pies into the oven. Then I hurried across the cold wood planks, sliding in my striped wool socks, and made my way upstairs to the cottage’s only shower.
I was finished by the time the oven timer dinged, and I grabbed my potholders, the pumpkin-shaped ones I took out of storage every fall, and slid the pies from the oven racks. Then I set them on the counter to cool and flipped open my laptop to kill the remaining time, checking new orders and my reviews. I knew reading reviews wasn’t the best idea, but it had been ages since I’d had a bad one, so the risk seemed low. And the worst reviews had been spam from my ex before I’d even quit my day job to open Pie-Jinks.
My email distracted me from the website before I really got into the reviews. A link from my mother (again) from a dating site for magical beings like me. Magical Connections.
The woman was relentless. She didn’t care that I wasn’t ready for yet another risk. The business had been enough, and the split with my ex last year? Less than amicable. I wasn’t ready.
The door chimed, and Thea screamed something unintelligible, probably in Faerie-speak. I winced and hurried to answer it. Luke, my part-time delivery boy, stood on the threshold. He was a bright high schooler just looking for something to put on a resumé and a little extra cash in his pocket.
Maybe I should start having him text me instead of ringing the bell. Less chance of waking Thea.
I led him to the kitchen where he patiently waited while I put the finishing touches on my creations (whipped cream in perfect, swirly peaks, and just a dusting of cinnamon), praying the pies were cool enough that the cream wouldn’t melt. I packed them into boxes and handed him the stack.
“You know where to go?” I said.
“Sure do, Reese,” he said. I could barely see his head over the stacked pies. “I got your list last night.”
I smiled at him.
“Great, thank you, Luke. Your paycheck is in the mail.”
One I could barely afford. But it was worth the cost, and hopefully he’d be indispensable before long. How was I supposed to bake if I was constantly running deliveries?
Luke smiled back, and I led the way to the door, opening it wide so he wouldn’t trip or drop any of the pies. As he made his way back to the sidewalk and toward Cider Hollow’s small downtown, I thought I saw movement in the bushes by my white fence. But when I focused on it, it was still again.
Shrugging, I went back to the kitchen and garnished the tart-sized pie. Then I padded back into the bedroom, left the pie on Thea’s doorstep, and hoped it would appease her irritation.
Interlude I
“That’s it!” I yelled. “I’ve had it with them!”
Tree branches and dried plants cracked and rustled as I pushed myself to my feet, out of the detritus of the destroyed makeshift throne. The few subjects who had followed me to New England had just finished putting it together, and now it was nothing but a pile of rubbish. Light filtered down through the treetops above, falling on the flagstone underfoot as if spotlighting the mess. The sunlight quickly faded into the trees built up thickly around this small clearing, a bit of Fae magic meant to protect us until the human-style cottage was completed closer to town.
“Then why did you allow them to come along, Sire?” said the short hob next to me, wringing her hands nervously. Hannah only came halfway up to my knee, but she knew more about the state of the kingdom—and our visit—than any Fae I knew.
She was also the only servant here whose opinion I trusted.
“Because Mother and Father insisted. They’re close with the sprites’ parents, and they thought it would be a good opportunity for us all to get in some sightseeing.” I dropped a broken stick to the ground.
“Then shouldn’t you be making the best of it? If you really do intend to begin your own court here eventually, you will need your parents’ support.”
I brushed dirt from my hunter-green and burnt-orange tunic, my anger softening. “I’m sorry, Hannah. This was supposed to be fun for all of us. See the States, bask in the coming of Autumn, throw a party to make friends with the nearby humans.”
“And perhaps find a future Queen?” Hannah said, eyes hopeful. “You can’t be King of a new Court if you don’t have a Queen. It would be even better if she was from this continent.”
I could feel the heat of embarrassment flooding my face. “Perhaps. If only to appease Mother and Father. But you know how picky they are.”
Especially about a human. They were an unusual choice in mate, and they would certainly have to be exceptional to put up with the tricksters and magic in any Fae Court. If I did find a human Queen, she would truly have to be something special.
Otherwise, Mother and Father would be sure to bring Gertrude when they came to check in on us at the Ball. Irritating, over-attached Gertrude.
I shuddered at the mere thought.
I glanced down at the two sprites, both of them identical autumn Fae of the sort that usually lived in acorns and could be found worldwide. They stood unrepentant before me, already picking on each other again. Sprites were notorious for causing mischief. It was in their nature, especially at their age, but they were more loyal than any Fae I’d ever met. Despite the trouble, I knew they’d always have my best interest at heart.
And they made delectable sweets.
But I still needed to remind them that I was in charge.
I narrowed my eyes at them. “Some of us need to learn how to respect their Prince!”
Hannah turned to the two sprites. “So what do you propose we do? Your parents would not agree with sending them back to Underhill. It wouldn’t give them a good impression of your ability, Sire.”
I sighed, scratching at my smooth chin. What to do with them, indeed?
I could...I could give them a job? If they were too busy, maybe they couldn’t keep causing trouble.
A smile must have twisted my face, because the sprites’ gazes were fixed on me, and they shrank back. I grabbed the collars of their nut-brown shirts before they could bolt and began hefting them toward the hidden Court’s entrance.
“Sire?” Hannah said.
“We will put them to work,” I tossed over my shoulder.
“Sire, don’t you think you ought to consider this a little more? Are you sure—”
“They’ll be fine, Hannah.”
The sprites were small and light, but they struggled against my hold. It wasn’t enough to free them, though, as I carried them through the tunnel of twisting vines and branches of the hidden domain, out into the cool wind and bright sun of a New England Autumn. The wind chased yellow, brown, orange, and red leaves across the forest floor, and crows called in the distance, reveling in the seasonal changes.
Much as I would prefer to do.
I stopped at the edge of the trees and peered down the hill at Cider Hollow, a quaint little town full of quaint little people. People I’d love to meet. People I wanted to share Autumn with. I’d already purchased the plot for the cottage from them, and I just wanted a peaceful, friendly relationship. One that would be fun for all of us. Especially after the acorn incident. That had been a mistake.
I could disguise myself. Visit the humans and find vendors for the party. I certainly couldn’t feed them Fae food. Not unless I wanted an entire town full of new subjects to care for.
I could barely handle the two sprites!
I dropped them to their feet in the dark loam. “Go cause trouble somewhere else for a while. But not too much!”
The female sprite sniffed. “But, Sire, when can we come back? Can we go to the party?”
I relaxed, looking at them with what I hoped was compassion and understanding. They were, after all, only sprites doing what sprites did. “Of course you can. But I can’t have you causing trouble up here. Not while we’re preparing for the party.”
“But the party’s so far away!” the girl whined.
“What if we do something special for you?” the boy said. “Something to show you how valuable we are. Prove that you weren’t wrong to bring us along.” He thought for a moment, then snapped his fingers. “What if we find you a good chef? Then will you let us come back?”
I thought for a moment. If it would keep them out of trouble, and out of my hair, who was I to stand in the way of Fae who were trying?
“Very well,” I said. “If you figure something out, we can talk. But until then, stay out of the woods!”
“Yes, Sire!” They snapped to attention, speaking as one.
Then they scurried down the hill, rolling in the wildflowers and waving grasses.
I sighed. Was this a mistake? Hopefully I hadn’t just doomed all of Cider Hollow.
I turned back to the Fae domain deep in the woods and took a step. Something crunched underfoot, and I bent to examine whatever I had crushed.
A cracked, shining acorn.
A whole trail of them led the way back to the domain. The frost-cursed sprites had left a trail!
I bent again and began gathering up the trail of acorns. It wouldn’t do to have a curious human follow it straight to the hollow, not until the party was ready. And I couldn’t let the sprites find it again, either. They were too distracting. And if they got back in without anyone noticing, that would be bad for all of us.
I collected the acorns all the way back to the keep, cursing the sprites, my parents, and the coming winter all at once.
Two
Grandma’s Summer Blueberry
The next day, I was halfway through lathering up my hair, streaked with sky-blue serenity, when the doorbell chimed. I froze, fingers tangled in my soapy locks. Pies were in the oven, but I should still have another fifteen minutes.
Luke must have been early. Spoiled spells!
I rushed through de-soaping myself, toweling off, and throwing on just enough to be decent, but he rang the bell five more times in the time it took me to th
row on striped leggings and a burgundy sweater. Thea was standing at her door yelling as I rushed past her, my gray-streaked hair dripping behind me, glasses fogged with condensation.
“Coming, coming!” I yelled, my wet feet slipping along the floor as I slid to a stop just inside the door.
I threw the door wide and opened my mouth to remind the delivery boy what our agreed-upon meeting time was but froze in place when I was greeted by two small children instead. We stared at each other, examining, evaluating. They were definitely twins, even dressed alike in forest-green overalls, and maybe eight years old. The girl had two long red plaits and a smattering of freckles across her nose, and the boy had short brunette hair with a matching set of freckles.
But there was something in their eyes, something in the shimmering air around them, that spoke of not-quite-normal. This early in the morning, though, with only one cup of coffee in my veins, I couldn’t quite put my finger on it.
“Um,” I stammered instead. “Can I help you?”
The children giggled in unison. Definitely some kind of creepy Fae.
“We hear you make the best pies in Cider Hollow,” the girl said.
I blushed at the compliment. I did have 4.5 stars in my online reviews. “Thanks. What can I do for you?”
“We want to buy a pie,” the boy said. “For our friend.”
“I see,” I said. I glanced over my shoulder at the kitchen timer. It was going to beep soon. “You can just place orders online, you know. Through the website? Pie-Jinks.”
The two children just stared at me, unblinking. Not even a chuckle for my punny bakery name.
“But we wanted to meet you,” the girl responded.
I would have been flattered if they didn’t creep me out so much. “Well, I don’t really have time right now...”
“But we want a pie,” the boy said. “We’ve tried the other bakers in town, but they weren’t what we were looking for.”
Seasons of Magic Volume 1 Page 7