by Rue Volley
Most of the buildings were painted white with black trim, or the opposite, giving it a pure esthetic, which I appreciated. Halloween would soon be here, and this town, along with the Academy, were perfect for the most important holiday of the year.
Main Street in Hemlock was buzzing with activity from shop keepers turning open signs in their windows, to sweeping off the sidewalks directly in front of their stores.
My gaze shifted when the ‘Black Cat Bakery’ sign moved ever so slightly in the breeze. It rocked back and forth, making a creaking noise like a rusty hinge. I could smell the fresh baked bread. My stomach growled.
It didn’t matter how much I ate—I could always eat more, and I was proud of it.
I love food. I love everything about it. I think girls should love to eat and not be ashamed of it. So, have that slice of cake, or fudge brownie. Eat like you enjoy it, because you never know what the future holds.
I made my way to the door, only to nearly get whacked in the face when it swung open. Deep, barrel-chested laughter followed. A man immediately noticed he had almost run me over, so he removed his hat with an apologetic grin, and nodded to me. I noticed his teeth were sharpened to fine points.
Plus, the eye.
I mean one.
He only had one of them, that was located in the center of his forehead.
I didn’t want to stare. I had never seen a cyclops before.
“Sorry, lassie.” His thick Irish accent only added to the sparkle in his eye, and jolly lines on his friendly face. He glanced back inside the bakery, and drew his brown paper sack in closer to his chest. I could smell the warm cranberries mingled with bread, and hints of freshly churned sweet butter.
I caught a glimpse of my Mom, who was still fast asleep in the car. I decided to let her rest, while I grabbed something for us to nibble on. She’d appreciate it.
He hurried off, and I stepped inside only to be hit with the most amazing aroma. It was a blend of hot butter, yeast, fresh fruit, and vanilla. I noticed the wood wick candle burning on the weathered countertop. It crackled and popped like a fireplace, sending up a puff of smoke here and there along with a rich vanilla bean scent.
A woman popped up from behind the counter with flour smudged cheeks. She wore a white apron with a small black cat on the front of it. Her fire engine red hair was piled high on the top of her head held together with a wooden chopstick. She looked like she may be my Mom’s age or a bit older. Her unnaturally bright blue eyes locked on me. A genuine smile dragged her lips into the shape of a heart. She placed a small tub on the counter, and brushed her unruly bangs out of her eyes after they shifted.
“Well, hello.” She said with the sweetest voice. She popped the lid, and turned to grab a metal scoop from the shelf on the wall. There was an industrial sized mixer behind her on the floor.
Then her hair slid forward, and I could see that her ear was pointed. I nearly gasped. She’s a fairy—or Fae, as some like to be called. I had read about her kind so many times in books, but never had the pleasure of meeting one. Not until now.
But here she was, half smudged in flour, baking bread. It seemed so—normal.
She tapped her ear, and I blinked. Great. She caught me.
“Yes, I am a bread baking fairy, like my mother before me, and hers before her.” She waved a delicate hand at the door, “And that was my friend, Arnold. He’s the sweetest thing, one eye and all. I think he may have a thing for me.”
I parted my lips, trying to choose my words carefully but this is what fell out.
“I’ve never seen one of you in person.”
She laughed and it filled the space with happiness. The woman made her way around the counter and looked me up and down. My eyes lowered to her feet. She wasn’t wearing any shoes.
“Ten.”
I blinked again. “I’m sorry?”
She wiggled her toes. “Ten—that’s all I have.” She lifted her hands. “And ten of these, too.”
The Fairy placed a hand on her hip. “I can see the human in you, smell it, too, but there’s something more—isn’t there?”
I looked everywhere, but at her. “I’m—I should go.” I suddenly felt embarrassed. I turned to make my escape, and she flew overhead and landed in between me and the door. I stopped dead while she clicked her tongue to the beat of her finger moving back and forth.
She should be mad. She should tell me to leave and never come back again.
“You look like a blueberry muffin type of girl. Am I right?” she asked.
I narrowed my eyes.
She waved her hand toward the counter. I could see a metal pan with muffins exploding from the top of it. The smell of the fresh blueberries finally hit me. I grinned.
“And I make my own butter to boot. I bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you? Come—come.” She flew past me, blowing my hair around my face, and forcing me to take a step back. She parted a white curtain. I leaned in, and could see a cow through her open back door, chewing on some grass. It mooed and I giggled.
She let the curtain go while her feet gently lowered to the floor. Her wings were iridescent in color changing from purple to green, to pink, then blue. They were a kaleidoscope of colors just like her personality.
She approached me with an outstretched hand then lifted it in the air, holding it still while she spoke to me. “My name is Zeti, and you are?”
I reached up and placed my palm against hers, which must be her way of shaking hands. The hum of her wings rushed through her hand to mine. “Rook. I’m Rook Dagger.”
Her face scrunched up, making it shorter in length. “What an intriguing name!” she exclaimed. I appreciated her enthusiasm, but more than that, I appreciated her understanding. I’m not a judgmental person at all. I was just—
“Stunned.” She added, as if she read my mind.
She flew back behind the counter and snatched up a blueberry muffin, then padded it with butter. Zeti held it out like a peace offering.
“Oh!” I struggled to dig through my bag and she shook her head. Her messy hair tilted but never toppled.
“No charge today. Let’s just call it my welcoming package from me to you. For peace.”
“For peace.” I replied.
She gawked at the muffin, so I took a bite. The delicious flavors exploded in my mouth, and I audibly moaned while chewing. Zeti winked at me when the door opened again, and a family piled in. A mother, father, and two small children.
They all had hooves.
Four of them a piece.
Centaurs.
I was flabbergasted. What an amazing sight!
I moved away from the counter to give them room. She waved to me as I exited her store.
Zeti called out, before the door closed. “He’s a nice boy—a bit of trouble in that one, but nice just the same.” She added a nod and a wink.
I gasped as the door shut in my face. I stared at my reflection in the glass.
Chapter Thirteen
I returned to the car and leaned in to see that Mom was still sleeping. I took another bite of the muffin and chewed with a mischievous grin. I tapped the glass and she chopped the air. One more rap with my knuckles and Mom snarled her lip.
It wasn’t the best look for her.
“Rook?” she asked with confusion.
I jiggled the muffin that’s pinched between my middle finger and thumb. She cracked her neck from side to side then got out of the car as I backed up to give her a wide birth. Mom may tumble out, but instead, she closed the door and gave Main Street a once-over.
“It’s Hemlock, Mom—the town.”
She cleared her throat. “Yeah—no—I knew that.”
I held the muffin out to her and she waved it off. “Rook, it’s coffee or death for me.”
I grabbed her hand, pulling her along with me after I spotted the fresh
coffee sign.
The bell went off over my head, a light ringing that reverberated through the small coffee shop.
“Calla, no.” My attention shifted to a young woman and a small girl. The girl looked like she was maybe three or four years old. I’m not always great with guessing ages. The little girl shifted her feet and I noticed the tail sticking out from a small hole in the back of her light blue dress with small daisies on it.
Mom pointed, and I pushed her hand down before anyone noticed.
“Tail.” She whispered.
“I know.” I whispered back. “Why don’t you get a table and I’ll order some coffee, okay?” I asked, hoping to get her settled in. My Mom isn’t rude, she just states the obvious.
I took my place in line, right behind them.
The little girl’s shirt has a square collar, and was homemade, which is charming. My Mom made my clothes when I was little, too. I can still remember the hum of her sewing machine putting me to sleep. Then I looked at her face. She was mouse-like in nature, with big black eyes and large ears. Totally adorable. Her mother looked the same, just mature.
The woman removed a chocolate chip cookie from the girl’s hand, which forced her to whimper. She placed it back on the plate that sat on the wooden countertop.
The little girl tugged on the young woman’s skirt and sniffled. “I’m hungry, Mama.” She whined. The young woman dug through her small satchel, but only produced a stick of gum and a crumpled-up receipt.
“Calla—please.” She whispered. “I only have enough for the coffee beans. Maybe next time, okay?”
The little girl wiped away her tears with the back of her furry hand.
I stepped up and placed a few coins on the countertop. Then I picked up the cookie and handed it to the little girl who grinned from ear to ear. It was such a small thing to do that made her happy.
“Thank you.” Her mother said, right before she realized I was human. Her eyes darted over my face.
I felt obligated to tell her who I am. “I’m a student at Hemlock Academy.”
She nodded. I don’t know if she had ever seen a human, or talked to one before, but I was determined to make sure she didn’t experience some of the bias that exists in the world.
“Here.” I lifted my bag of coins. They could use it more than I could. She tried to refuse, but I placed it in her hand, and smiled. I wouldn’t let her leave without it.
The young woman nearly cried, but then she took the little girl’s hand and left the coffee shop. The bell rang and then a boy appeared, who looked maybe a year or two older than me. He had grayish-white hair and a ring through the middle of his bottom lip. His skin was also grayish in color but it had a shimmer to it when he moved behind the register. His eyes lowered to the coins on the counter.
His light purple eyes probed me. I caught myself staring. He was like a painting, or illustration, in a book. So foreign, yet friendly.
“I’m Selkie,” He announced with pride.
The line between my brows deepened.
He grinned, while leaning in close to me. “Legend has it we turn into seals in the water, but I’ve been swimming since I was young and I’ve never had it happen. But look, I can breathe underwater.” He turned his head, to show me a small slit behind his ear. It moved. I flinched. I didn’t mean, too.
“I’m sorry. Did I upset you?” he asked. “I know you have human blood.”
I shook my head, feeling slightly embarrassed for how I reacted to him.
“I—I’m sorry. I’ve just never—” I fidgeted with my hands.
His purple eyes skirted the length of me, “Nice shoes.” He stated so matter-of-fact.
The sunlight slid across his high cheekbone.
So, this is a mermaid, I thought to myself.
I had grabbed my light blue mary janes with cat whiskers on them as I rushed to leave with my Mom. I didn’t think much about it. I suddenly realized they had whiskers on them and I hoped that the woman wasn’t offended, since she was a human-sized mouse and all.
“Yeah, I like shoes.”
He laughed, exposing his teeth. He had four fangs, double the vampire. Again, I stared. He closed his mouth.
I felt so awful. “I must seem like the most judgmental person in the world, but I promise, I’m not. I’ve just never—”
“Seen something like me? He interjected, “I know—and to be honest, I’ve never been this close to a human before, and I have to say, you don’t stink, as they claim.”
I laughed with the tilt of my head. “Well, some do,” I peered over at my Mom, who was now snoring with her head on the table.
He grinned. “Is that what made you?”
I chuckled. “Yep.”
A voice called out from behind me. “That was a nice thing you did.”
I turned to see another boy, who looked similar to the one behind the counter.
Same white-gray hair, and shimmery skin.
Obviously, they’re related.
I was momentarily confused, so he clarified his observation, “With the girl, and her child.”
I waved a hand. “Oh, it was nothing.”
He stepped closer, throwing the notion of personal space to the wind, forcing me to look up at him. He has a good five inches on me, unlike the boy behind the counter who was maybe only an inch taller than I am.
He placed a balled fist against his chest and lowered his chin. “Soll.”
“I don’t speak—”
He tapped his chest with his fist, “Soll.”
There was an awkward pause until I realized that was his name.
I balled my fist against my chest. “Rook Dagger.” I replied.
“Oh, is that one word?” he asked.
“No, two. My last name is Dagger. First name is Rook.”
“Last names are not customary for us so we only get the title of a first name as reference until we die and return to whence we came.”
“From whence you came?” I asked.
“The sea.” Soll seemed at peace with death.
He eyed the boy behind the counter, and he immediately slammed a tightened fist to his chest.
“Sinn.”
“Hi.” I replied.
Sinn’s purple eyes brightened.
“So, what brings you to Hemlock?” Soll asked. He seemed to be the more aggressive of the two boys, older—wiser.
I squared my shoulders, “I’m a student at the Academy. A Necromancer.”
He appeared confused. “A human girl?”
“I have human parents, but I also have the power of resurrection. I’ve been able to bring back quite a few things—mostly insects, but my biggest success, if you want to call it that, is my cat, Bitter Bat—but I don’t know if she’d agree.”
“Well, good for you,” He walked away without saying goodbye. And I guess that was it. Our conversation had ended. Maybe it was customary for the Selkie.
Sinn tapped the countertop with an open hand. “Do you like coffee?” he asked.
I narrowed my eyes. “Do you like water?”
He laughed while grabbing a canister and unscrewing the top. Sinn pulled out a small white cup with fresh beans falling from the side.
“How much?” I reached in my bag and he shook his head no.
“You’re act of kindness earned you at least one free cup of coffee today, well two. I think your caretaker needs one, too.”
I glanced at my Mom who was starting to wake up. “My mother?”
“Oh, is that what you call them?”
I nodded with a grin.
“We get hatched by caretakers.”
“That must be lonely?”
“Why?”
I watched him move. It was fluid, like he was swimming underwater. “I mean, having no Mom.” I retorted.
He shrugged a shoulder, “There were a hundred of us who hatched together. I would’ve killed for a moment alone.”
“So, Soll’s a brother?” I asked.
“The only one I have left.”
“Out of hundreds?”
He paused, letting his thoughts wander. “There was a time that we were hunted by man—but that time has come and passed.”
“I’m sorry.”
He focused in on me. “No need. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Yes, but sometimes, the people who are left behind, need to say it, because it still needs to be done.”
He straightened his shoulders. “I think you will do just fine at the Academy.”
“Thank you,” I cleared my throat. “and could you—I mean if it’s no problem—put some milk in that?” He grinned while pouring the beans into the grinder.
I lifted a finger. “And creamer.”
He glanced over at me.
“And ice.” I added.
He laughed. “So, you like coffee flavored milk?”
“I guess so,” Twisting a piece of hair between my fingertips.
“I’m not judging you, Rook of the Dagger.”
It amused me that he had chosen to give me a title, “It’s just Rook,” The edge of my lip curled. “and I’m glad, because I promise, I’ll never judge you, either.”
He finished grinding the beans and poured the powdery mixture over a cup and grabbed some hot water, promptly letting it dribble over the top. The smell intensified.
I picked it up, taking a deep breath, allowing for the rich smell to linger in my lungs. He was patiently waiting to see my reaction, so I took a drink. My face lit up. It was the best iced coffee I had ever tasted in my life.
“So good!” I exclaimed.
“Excellent! I usually don’t make those. The kids from the Academy prefer black coffee, like their souls.”
I nearly choked. He waved a hand. “I guess I shouldn’t be so harsh on them. We really have no choice what life we’re given, right? Just what we choose to do with it.”
“No, we don’t.”
I returned to the table. Mom jumped up, and stared at me, with her sunglasses sliding down her nose. A chunk of her hair was sticking out from the side of her head.