by Tish Thawer
Driscoll stumbled backwards. He reached out, as if he couldn’t see what was in front of him. With the trinity in place, the world was snatched from the Unseelie fae. At least for a time.
Charlotte charged. Betsy held the sword up to her, and Charlotte grabbed it near the hilt. It was a dangerous move, it would cut deep into her palm, but the shortened blade made her strike faster than it would otherwise be. It slid cleanly up through Driscoll’s jaw, only stopping when it hit the top of his skull. Charlotte screamed as she bowled into him.
Cathal struggled to his feet, shouting, “Where are you! What have you done!”
The harmonica pistol boomed once, twice, and as the warded projectiles passed through the wall that the aether had created, they turned into something more akin to a flaming cannonball. There were few creatures that could survive an eight-inch hole torn through their chest. There were fewer still that could survive two. I fired two more into Cathal, until his body caught fire and he collapsed on the ground.
I looked over to Charlotte, to my wife, as she wrapped her hand in a length of cloth torn from Driscoll’s shirt. I stared at Driscoll for a time, the dagger-like blade gleaming in the cavern of his mouth, embedded in the skull.
“Theodore,” Betsy said. “Stay awake. Are you okay?”
“Oh yeah,” Theodore said. “Our plan went so smoothly, I hardly got a scratch. Except for all these broken ribs.”
He started to laugh, and the sound changed to a groan of pain.
“Is he coughing up blood?” I asked.
“Not that I can tell,” Betsy said.
“Good. He’ll be fine.”
“What about them?” Theodore asked.
“We bury them,” I said. “Bury them under the conservatory. With this.” I held up the aether gun.
“Are you sure?” Charlotte asked. “That was awfully effective.”
“It’s too dangerous. We won’t need it now that the wards are active.”
“You could destroy it,” Betsy said. “But I wouldn’t. You might have friends that are fae, but you also have enemies of all sorts.”
I glanced at Charlotte and met her eyes.
She smiled and said, “Don’t we always.”
Epilogue
Surprised to find the front door locked, I tucked the wooden crate I was carrying under my arm so I could reach the keys in my leather vest. It had been three months since our encounter with Driscoll, and while I wouldn’t say things had returned to normal, exactly, they had certainly calmed down. But Charlotte and I had both taken to locking the doors more than we used to.
The repairs on the conservatory were completed without much trouble, and what trouble there was Theodore had handled with a brilliant bit of brass work. We’d needed the payment, and Mihail hadn’t let us down.
Perhaps most surprising, Roman Bishop had kept his word. Our slightly strange whiskey was now a staple at the local bar, and Bishop was confident he could find more buyers than I could make moonshine for. It was a challenge I was ready to take on.
The door swung open, and I blinked at the feet on the ladder beside my head.
“I was going to fix that this weekend,” I said, carefully edging my way into the shop where the gentle tones of a repaired chime greeted me.
“Of course you were,” Charlotte said, brushing off her hands as she climbed down from the ladder. She slapped a small tool belt against my chest, and I fumbled to catch it.
“Sounds great.” I moved to set the tools onto the workbench before setting the crate beside them. “Mihail said the amulets worked great.”
“How did he test them?” Charlotte asked, sitting down behind her workbench.
I shrugged. “Don’t know. Don’t know if I want to know.”
Charlotte leaned forward as I took a crowbar to the wooden crate.
“Are those the bottles?” she asked.
I nodded, levered the length of metal, and pried the top off the crate with a squeal and a pop. The individual bottles weren’t so heavy as I pulled one out, and I suspected the crate itself had made up a good deal of the weight.
Charlotte stood up and joined me, sliding her own bottle of smoked glass out and running her finger across the golden lettering etched into the side. She read the words aloud: “Warded Whiskey, The Tinkers’ Drink.”
I shook my head. “Nice craftsmanship on the bottles. Not a huge fan of the name.”
Charlotte blew out a puff of air. “It already paid off a quarter of our debt. Bishop can call it whatever the hell he wants if that keeps up.”
“Why don’t we have Theodore and Betsy over tonight to celebrate?” I said with a smile.
“Okay,” Charlotte said. “Just make sure they come through the front door.”
I glanced back at the chimes Charlotte had fixed, and laughed.
We hope you enjoyed these stories in the Legends of Havenwood Falls series featuring a variety of supernatural creatures. The series is a collaborative effort by multiple authors.
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Books in the historical Legends of Havenwood Falls series:
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Lost in Time by Tish Thawer
Dawn of the Witch Hunters by Morgan Wylie
Redemption’s End by Eric R. Asher
Trapped Within a Wish by Brynn Myers
Blood and Damnation by Belinda Boring
Fated Beginnings by E.J. Fechenda (September 2018)
Emeline by Katie M. John (October 2018)
Released From a Curse by Brynn Myers (November 2018)
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More books releasing on a monthly basis
Also try the signature New Adult/Adult series, Havenwood Falls, and the YA series, Havenwood Falls High
Stay up to date at www.HavenwoodFalls.com
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About the Author
Eric is a former bookseller, cellist, and comic seller currently living in Saint Louis, Missouri. A lifelong enthusiast of books, music, toys, and games, he discovered a love for the written word after being dragged to the library by his parents at a young age. When he is not writing, you can usually find him reading, gaming, or buried beneath a small avalanche of Transformers. Find him at http://www.ericrasher.com/.
Trapped Within a Wish (A Legends of Havenwood Falls Novella) by Brynn Myers
For eighteen years, Nathan Wade has searched for answers regarding his father’s disappearance. Now, in 1920, he receives a letter from Calla Lily Mircea saying she’s in possession of some of his father’s belongings in a town called Havenwood Falls. Nathan wonders how a field camera lost on an archeological dig in Egypt could end up in a small town in Colorado, but something draws him in. Nathan takes the leap of faith, only to have his world turned upside down when he finds not only the camera, but a hidden treasure within.
Amani lost everything the day she came of age and her true nature was revealed. Now, having been trapped for eighteen years, her only hope is that someone will save her from the hell she’s had to endure. When a handsome stranger inadvertently releases her, the wait is over, and the truth of her imprisonment comes to light.
Nathan and Amani are now bound to one another and determined to piece together the past. Someone wanted her gone, and she and Nathan race to solve the mystery that connects them both before it’s too late.
Trapped Within a Wish
An Excerpt
The hallway of New York University bustled with students roaming around—some were on their way to exams, while others were chatting about the upcoming summer break.
In his office on campus, Nathan Wade rifled through term papers, trying to find a student’s dissertation on the 42 Laws of Ma’at when the door to his office opened, startling him.
“Is this what you’ve been waiting for?” Lillian asked as she entered the room.
“I don’t know, Ms. Hartman. What is it?” Nathan replied as he continued to shuffle through the stack of papers in his hands.
“Enough with that formal business, young man. There are no students around,” Lillian scoffed as she wagged the paper she held in the air. “This came in about an hour and a half ago, but you were teaching, and I didn’t think it was important enough to interrupt the class to give it to you,” she replied with a sly grin. “And why is he sending telegraphs anyway? Has he forgotten we’re in the twentieth century? It is 1920, after all.”
Nathan shook his head and chuckled under his breath. “What did Edgar have to say with his antiquated form of communication?”
Lillian reached for the silver chain holding her cheaters and pulled them on to see the words clearer. She read the two words and clicked her tongue in frustration. “Nothing yet.”
“Nothing yet, what?”
“That’s it. That’s all it says.” Lillian walked over to her desk and sat down. “I do not know why you continue to pay him to look for your father’s satchel—it and the camera are long gone.” She shook her head slowly. “I’m sorry. I know that is not what you want to hear, but it’s true. It’s been eighteen years, son. You have to move past this.” Her tone shifted from judgmental to soft as she took off her glasses and let them hang around her neck.
“I can’t stop searching and you know why,” Nathan said as he stared into the eyes of the woman who’d cared for him after his father’s disappearance.
Lillian Hartman was widowed, like his father had been. Before Nathan was born, Lillian and her husband, Charles, had been neighbors and close friends with his parents. When Nathan’s mother died of consumption, Lillian became Nathan’s surrogate mother. Then, after his father disappeared, she and Charles raised Nathan—gave him a life in lieu of his loss.
When Charles passed away a few years ago, Lillian was in need of a hobby to keep her mind busy. All that unused energy was going to waste, and Nathan was in need of an office assistant, now that he was an associate professor at the university. Lillian was the perfect assistant and the most qualified candidate to manage all of Nathan’s pastimes.
“Nathan,” Lillian soothed, “the clue to where your father disappeared to is not in that camera. Edgar can search the world over and still conclude what we already know. Sam and the camera are gone.”
“I want to know what happened, Lillian. Not knowing is what binds me to this quest.”
“But some mysteries will never be unraveled. You simply have to move on.”
Nathan bowed his head and whispered, “I know.”
“You’re better suited spending your energy uncovering the mysteries found in those Egyptian tombs you love so much.” She grinned and then threw her hands in the air. “That reminds me. I received notification from Howard Carter’s office about an expedition opportunity. I’m not certain how that will work with your current class schedule, though.”
Nathan glanced up. “They requested me?”
“Yes,” she said, handing him the letter. “Here, read it. It’s very complimentary.”
“Wow, I didn’t expect that,” Nathan said as he put on his glasses to read the letter. When he read the last line, he grinned appreciatively. “It is indeed very complimentary, but sadly, I’m going to have to pass on this offer and use my time here to study linguistics in my off time.” He sighed. “Maybe they’ll ask again, for another dig. I can’t imagine there won’t be more to come.”
“Always wanting to learn more. You always were such a curious boy.”
“I received word that new funerary texts have arrived at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. They’ll need to be translated, and as you have pointed out, it may do me some good to dive into a distraction.”
Lillian picked up a stack of mail from the inbox on the corner of her desk and started to flip through it. As she did, she pulled her glasses back on and examined one envelope with an odd symbol pressed into a wax seal.
“Who uses letter seals anymore?” she mumbled under her breath. “Well, I guess whoever this is from,” Lillian said to herself as she reached for her letter opener.
Lillian pulled out the neatly folded letter and read the words, disbelief and shock contorting her face with each word she read.
Dear Mr. Wade,
I’m writing this letter to inform you I am in possession of a camera I believe belongs to you. Inside the top flap of the tattered brown leather case is a tag with this New York address. The inscription reads, Samuel N. Wade. I do hope I’ve not contacted the wrong person in error and that this field camera indeed belongs to you. When you receive this, please reply to the address listed on the envelope.
Sincerely,
Calla Lily Mircea
“What’s wrong, Lillian?” Nathan asked.
“Someone in,” she paused to flip over the envelope, “Havenwood Falls has found your father’s camera. They even have the bag,” Lillian muttered. “I can’t believe it.”
“Where is Havenwood Falls?”
“According to the postage mark, it’s someplace in Colorado.”
“Colorado?” Nathan exclaimed. “How in the hell did the camera get there? It has to be a mistake. Egypt to some random place in the middle of nowhere is a bit of a stretch, don’t you think?”
Lillian nodded, still trying to comprehend the words she’d just read. Sam’s camera had been missing for as long as he had been, and no one, besides Nathan, thought they’d ever see it again. She eyed him over her glasses. “Nathan, I don’t want you to get your hopes up.”
Nathan took the letter from Lillian and stared at the words on the page for a moment before responding. “It may be nothing, but this is the first lead we’ve had. I will have to contact this Calla Lily and find out for myself.”
“No, you can send Edgar. That is why you hired him, is it not?”
Nathan sighed. “It is, but there is something odd about this letter—this woman’s writing. I feel like this is it. This,” Nathan paused, “this is my father’s camera, Lillian. I have to do this.”
“Oh, Nathan,” she replied gently.
“Look, it won’t hurt anyone. Only another week and classes will be out for summer break. I can go then, and that way nothing will be affected here.”
Lillian laid her hand on Nathan’s. “This could indeed be a mistake, but I understand what you’re saying. I will cover you here. I want you to have peace of mind, and I need you to find closure and put your father’s death behind you.”
“What if it is his? What if he is alive and has been living in Colorado all this time?”
She pulled him into a hug. “Then I guess that is all the more reason for you to go,” she said as she stepped back. “Either way, you’ll have an answer.”
Nathan nodded. “I don’t know, Lillian. I have a feeling I can’t shake.”
“Well, then let me respond to this Miss Mircea and make the arrangements for you to stay a few days,” she said, before she kissed him on the forehead and walked over to her desk.
“This had better not be another dead end,” Nathan mumbled under his breath as the gentle clicks of the typewriter sounded in the background.
The week passed by quickly, and Nathan was almost ready to go. Lillian had made all the arrangements with Calla Lily for Nathan to stay at Whisper Falls Inn upon his arrival. She also made sure Nathan’s colleagues were aware he’d only be gone a short period of time on a fact-finding mission and would be back before summer’s end at the latest.
Lillian thought back to when Samuel disappeared. He’d been working at the excavation site for Hatshepsut’s tomb in the Valley of the Kings. Everything was going as expected according to his correspondence, and then one day they received a telegraph stating he’d gone missing—simply vanished, no trace of him found by the other Egyptologists on the dig. The only evidence they had was from a worker who reported seeing him taking a photograph of two young women near the excavation site.
Nathan had convinced himself that his father’s satchel was the key to finding out what happened. He’d go on and on about photos, or maybe something Samuel found, and how it could s
how not only inside information about the tomb, but could also provide clues as to what happened on that day. Either way, Lillian worried about how all of this would affect Nathan in the end. Not knowing left him sad, but hungry for information––a conclusion could leave him broken.
Lillian hoped this trip to Havenwood Falls would confirm the final piece of the puzzle and finally let Nathan accept the truth––Sam met with foul play that fateful day, and the camera and any other belongings were long gone from this world. She typed up the last page for the itinerary and slipped it out of the typewriter wheel with a zing, placing it neatly on her desk. As soon as Nathan returned from afternoon class, she’d let him know the whos, whats, and whens for his departure tomorrow.
The door opened with a click and startled Lillian.
“Finished,” Nathan called out as he entered the office. “The only thing left to do is mark the grades and submit them, then it’s off to Colorado.”
“I’ve made the final arrangements,” she said as she stood. “You’ll be taking the train into Montrose, Colorado, and Miss Mircea will meet you there. Apparently, they don’t have direct access other than a bus to take you into the town itself, so she’s offered to be your means of transportation.”
Nathan gave her an odd look.
“Yes, my thoughts exactly, but considering your insistence that you yourself flesh this one out, you will have to abide by the rules set forth by the woman who has the satchel,” Lillian said with a slight grin.
“Then I shall take it all at face value,” Nathan replied, returning her smile. “Did she say where to meet her?”