It was too big. All of it. The house, the property, the museum, the garden shop...the moon garden.

  I couldn’t just step into Nanna’s life. This was my life. Last week, I thought I knew what I wanted to do with it. Now I wasn’t so sure. Now I was staring into the possibility of changing everything.

  I went back inside. I’d already turned all the lights at the front of the house off. The shadows were thick and weighty. This was my house now, but I couldn’t imagine ever feeling at home here.

  Grisel had told me to read.

  Maybe once I understood more about how this all worked, I’d see my path more clearly. Standing in the doorway of the library, my shadow fell over Nanna’s desk, and I stared at it like it might talk back. There were several drawers, three on each side and a pen drawer in the middle. I still felt strange opening them, intruding in her personal, private space.

  Thomas settled on the chair Sarah had used when she visited and gave an extravagant yawn.

  I turned on a lamp and started at the top right.

  It was time to enter Nanna’s world.

  The back door opened, startling me from a dream of wandering the woods, seeking something, though I could never figure out what. I sat up, brushing my hair out of my eyes.

  Holy crap. I’d fallen asleep on the sofa in the library. I wasn’t sure if I’d finished a single page of the leather-bound volume that lay open on the floor next to me.

  Thomas stretched, ears perked toward the back of the house. Meow. He shot from the room.

  “Naomi?” Dana stood in the doorway. “The cat gave me a fright. Did you sleep down here?”

  “Yeah.” I flexed, stretching a kink out of my left shoulder. “Accidentally. I was trying to read.” I glared down at the book and sighed as I picked it up.

  “Well, I’m making coffee,” she declared. And off she went to the kitchen.

  I hauled myself upstairs and was halfway through my shower when I gasped. The moon garden! I’d meant to go last night when the moon rose, and I’d missed it because I fell asleep.

  I should never have stretched out on that sofa, but it looked so inviting after I’d examined the uninteresting contents of two of Nanna’s desk drawers. In despair, I’d decided to start my assigned reading with the slim, leather-bound book Thomas was so fond of. I’d not only fallen asleep without doing my homework, but I’d also missed talking with Grisel. I hurried through my shower and when I got out, I checked my phone. The moon wasn’t due to set for another hour and a half.

  “Aha! I can still make it!” I dressed in dark cropped jeans and a lime-green t-shirt, then brushed my hair and pulled it up into a quick knot.

  I turned at a click outside my bedroom door. I opened it to find Thomas sitting there, paw raised and tail swishing.

  “Was that supposed to be a knock?” I asked him.

  He tilted his head like he was considering my question, then turned and ran down the hallway to wait at the top of the stairs. I guessed that meant he was going with me.

  I didn’t see Dana on my way through the kitchen, which meant I didn’t have to explain myself. I grabbed my sweatshirt and keys, closing the door quietly behind me as I took a deep breath of fresh morning air. A riot of birds called out the day’s arrival from the woods behind the house, which made me feel like a princess in a fairy tale.

  I brushed the thought away, freaking out at how close to home it hit, as I glanced over my shoulder at Covett House. The first streaks of sunlight creeping through the trees lit up the dew on the grass like hundreds of tiny crystal balls.

  Jeez, I was full of the deep thoughts this morning, wasn’t I?

  I trudged into the forest, the shadowed path closing around me. But I didn’t feel claustrophobic. Instead, my heart lifted as I peered between trees, searching out more of the wood’s secrets. I hadn’t yet seen the moon, but I knew it was nearing the horizon as my feet traced the steps that would take me to the garden’s gate. In another hour it would be gone. If I dallied, I would miss my chance.

  I started to jog, breath deepening as the path rushed by in a blur. Luckily, I didn’t have far to go. I wasn’t sure what I was thinking with the run. A stitch had already developed in my side by the time I reached the pillar. But there was Thomas, still ahead of me and twitching his tail outside the gate.

  “I never said I was a fast runner.” I glared down at him as I took my keys from my pocket and my fingers easily found the key to the gate, as if drawn to it. My breath caught in my throat as fear surged through me. Fear that it wouldn’t work, that the magic had gone and all I’d seen was that one glimpse, that I’d never measure up to all Nanna had done in the world.

  Fear that this fairytale I’d somehow stepped into was really meant for someone else, not boring, budgeting Naomi Monday.

  The key slid home easily and gave its sharp click as I turned it. I opened the gate and forced myself to breathe. Sunlight had just breached the trees, highlighting spiderwebs here and there, tiny drops of dew beckoning like sprinkles of fairy dust. Hundreds of white blossoms turned their faces to the sky, beaded with dew, awaiting another night when they would shine with the moon’s light.

  I blinked, overcome by the magic thrumming through this place.

  And I realized I’d accepted it. Over the course of the last mundane day, I’d accepted that this magic really existed, alongside the world I’d always known. Or maybe...maybe I had always known that true magic lived in the world. Maybe I’d decided those were just childhood dreams and fancies, put them away like I put away toys and dolls, when it was time to grow up.

  Chapter Nine

  I stepped into the garden and gave up my denial. This place was here, it was beautiful, and somehow, I was connected to it in a dance much older than I could fathom.

  A pair of rabbits hopped over and stopped a short distance away, their noses twitching as they considered me with eyes that seemed to know too much.

  “Hello,” I said, not wanting to offend if this was a pair of otherworld bunnies facing me. Did otherworld bunnies exist?

  Thomas flicked his tail and stalked off in the other direction. So apparently the rabbits weren’t prey. A sudden panic filled me. I didn’t want Thomas snacking on any of the creatures in this garden. But he was a cat, and if I wasn’t mistaken, he’d spent much of the last two weeks running wild out here. He must have eaten a mouse or two in that time.

  I scrunched my nose. In the old tales, when someone ate food from the otherworld, they couldn’t leave that place, or their wits were addled, and they couldn’t gather themselves enough to escape. Or they didn’t want to.

  Thomas seemed normal enough. I was probably just making up problems to distract myself from the impossibility of what I was seeing.

  This place was truly amazing at the break of day. If I’d come last night, I wouldn’t have seen this, wouldn’t have felt this rush of wonder. My gaze drifted over the flowers, to the great oak whose roots made large ridges in the earth and limbs dwarfed everything in its shade.

  I gasped, my hand suddenly over my heart like some lovestruck girl in a fifties movie. Tone it down, Naomi.

  But then my eyes found the pond, sparkling in the dawn light. A pair of swans paddled in a slow circle near its far edge. Swans! They were in that storybook pose, necks bent toward each other, heads touching so they made a heart shape between them.

  Good lord, I was lost. How could I not want to protect this place?

  Okay, Naomi. Focus.

  Time was short. Instead of standing here going ga-ga over the garden, I needed to talk to Grisel and learn what was expected of me.

  I took the footbridge over the creek and saw Thomas bounce out of the bushes up ahead, chasing a fly that seemed to always stay one wingspan ahead of him.

  A rustle in the undergrowth drew my eyes and I was suddenly struck dumb. A stag stepped from the woods, backlit by the dawn, points rising in an epic crown. He was a pale cream color, like no deer I’d ever seen in California, and he was much larger than he should have been.

  He moved closer and my heart thundered in my chest. Did I need to be worried? He could really hurt me with those antlers if he wanted to. But his dark eyes seemed kind. They never wavered from me. He stopped a few paces away, just before I decided to retreat, and dipped his head low in an unmistakable bow.

  Tears filled my vision and I blinked wildly, trying to clear them. By the time I could see again the stag had turned to lead the way toward Grisel’s willow.

  I followed the otherworld stag, heart in my throat.

  Thomas walked next to him, tail high, seeming to saunter even more proudly than usual alongside this fey companion.

  I had stepped into a dream. A fantasy. A fairytale.

  I steadied myself as we approached Grisel, and the stag moved to one side, where he snuffled at the dew-coated grass like he might snack while he waited.

  “Naomi. I knew you would come. How do you fare?” Grisel’s words broke a silence that had felt too wondrous to breach. I turned toward her and took in this mysterious being in the early morning light. The form of a woman, embedded in the tree. She had no hands, and no feet, these were stretched toward the roots and crown of the willow, indistinct, as if they’d fully merged with the trunk. Her face, however, was completely clear, and inhumanly beautiful.

  “I saw swans,” I said numbly. Then I laughed, surprising myself.

  “Ah, yes. That pair comes here often. They like to be alone together, and this is a peaceful retreat. Most of the time.”

  Most of the time? That sounded ominous. I shook my head. “I still don’t know what to make of all this.”

  “Well, that’s normal.” Grisel smiled, her eyes bright. “You have all that human conditioning to get over as you realize just what’s possible, Naomi. Don’t worry. Our lives are long. We often find the days dull, I must admit. We’ll be here when you need guidance.”

  I ducked my head. She read me like a book.

  Speaking of…

  “Now, I assume you’ve read your way through your grandmother’s secrets by this time—”

  I cleared my throat. “Um. No. I’m sorry. I’ve been distracted with the estate, getting to know the businesses, and the murder at the museum.”

  Her brows knit together, the tree’s bark moving impossibly in front of my eyes. “There’s been a murder? When?”

  “Oh...it was the day after I arrived, early that morning. At the Museum of the—”

  “I know the place,” the dryad ground out from between clenched teeth. “Why didn’t you say so that night?”

  “I-I didn’t think to mention it.” I waved a hand around wildly. “Finding this place kinda wiped all other thought out of my mind.”

  “Yes, well...nothing to be done about the wasted time now.” Grisel pursed her lips. Her eyes focused on something over my shoulder. I turned and saw the pale stag standing proudly near the dark forest. The rabbits, too, had followed us, and now edged closer, hopping under the shelter of Grisel’s delicate branches. “They’ve all come out to meet you. They show great trust with such a greeting. You should be grateful.”

  Her tone grated on my nerves, but I just nodded. “I am, Grisel. Thank you for your counsel. I have some questions.”

  “There will be time to cover the basics later, after you’ve done your reading. For now, we must speak of a most important matter. It is the reason he is here.” She looked toward the stag again. “Something has come to Crescent Bay. A presence dark enough to alarm the most stalwart among us. A presence that must not come any closer to the garden. This is your task. You must defend—”

  “Whoa, whoa with the commands. I didn’t sign up for a shift at your beck and call.”

  She narrowed her eyes at me, but I was going to get one thing straight, even if it left me purple in the face. “Look – it’s my life, it’s my property, and I’m a woman who can make her own decisions, a woman in the prime of my life.”

  Behind me, someone sniggered, and I whirled around, cheeks reddening. Who else was here?

  A short, rather rotund figure stepped out from the direction of the pond. He wore hose and a tunic in forest green and curly toed shoes on his overlarge feet. His skin, too, had a pale green cast to it. Chestnut colored curls brushed his shoulders, and he had a bow and arrows strung to his back. I was reminded of a mini Robin Hood.

  I hadn’t seen him there before. Had he just come from...that other place? I looked over his shoulder, but the now empty pond didn’t hold any answers.

  “Bramm! Hello, old friend. It is good of you to come on such short notice,” Grisel said from behind me.

  I scooped my chin up off the forest floor and tried to make words. Who was this character?

  He sniggered in my direction again and waddled over to greet the pale stag with a low bow. Then he returned and put one hand fondly on Grisel’s trunk.

  Was it just me, or did she flush becomingly at his attention? She caught me staring and cleared her throat...or...whatever. “Naomi Monday, let me introduce Bramm. He’s agreed to help you diffuse the danger that’s drawn the stag from deep in the wildwood. He’s come a long way.”

  She wanted to see my gratitude again. I wasn’t sure I wanted Bramm’s help. “Thank you, Bramm. I’m not sure what I can do—”

  “Don’t worry about that. Your senses aren’t honed for this sort of work. That’s why I’m here.”

  “What additional senses do you have?” I said, mystified.

  “Wouldn’t you like to know.” He smirked and patted Grisel again. “We’d best be off to see if we can track the presence, as you call it.”

  “Now just you wait a minute. I’m not done with the girl, and we don’t even have an hour to work with. You can wait over there until we’re through.” Grisel shot the small man daggers with her eyes.

  Bramm whistled, but he didn’t snigger at her. And he backed off, going to sit on the bank of the pond.

  “Naomi, there isn’t much time,” Grisel said. “Look – tomorrow night is the full moon. The ritual must be completed when the moon is at its zenith. You must take time to prepare today, to learn the words you must speak. Do you understand me?”

  Something about her tone, something about the storybook character reclining behind me, came home to roost all of a sudden and I couldn’t breathe. What was I doing here? A dangerous presence, and I was supposed to help with that how? A full moon ritual tomorrow that apparently required me and the right words, which I didn’t even know yet?

  Whose life had I stepped into?

  “Naomi!” the dryad exclaimed. “Pay attention, please! Read the book, the old leatherbound one – it should be in her desk.”

  The book I’d retrieved earlier and swiftly fallen asleep to. I yawned just thinking about it. “Sorry, I didn’t have a chance for coffee. Wanted to make it here—”

  “Yes, yes, and I’m glad you did.” She seemed to reign in her impatience and considered me for a long, silent moment. “I know you didn’t ask for any of this, Naomi. Please, be strong, read the words of the women of your line. And for now, please listen to Bramm when he warns of danger. He’s not the most refined person, but he is incredibly adept at detecting—” She broke off.

  “Presences?” I squeaked, fearing whatever description she’d been avoiding.

  “Demons,” Bramm called from near the pond.

  I spared him a glance. He could hear us? And he was hanging on every word. What a jerk.

  Then the word he’d spoken penetrated, and my mouth worked helplessly. “Demons? He has to be kidding.” Like had to be. This was the last straw.

  “I’m afraid not,” Grisel said. “I wanted to avoid such...weighty words. Humanity has odd associations for many underworld beings.”

  I stepped back. What other beings did she mean? My mind startled away from the question and a sound emerged from my throat that was half moan and half rattle.

  I couldn’t take any more surprises. I just couldn’t. It wasn’t even eight in the morning, and I already needed a trauma nap.

  Chapter Ten

  It turned out I couldn’t ditch the small man, though he didn’t walk with me either. Maybe he cared for my attitude about as much as I cared for his.

  Thomas stayed with me, and I was grateful for his company, a tangible thread between the moon garden and the world outside. He’d seen what I’d seen and heard what I’d heard. Not that he could understand what we’d heard. He was a cat. But it proved I wasn’t crazy.

  Grisel was worried about the murder. Could Cherise’s death be linked to the demon Bramm had mentioned? My thoughts went straight to Koray Morris, a distinctly mortal human man who was in no way prepared to handle such a thing.

  And then my thoughts skittered straight off a cliff. What about Nanna? Had she faced demons in her time as guardian of the moon garden? My sweet grandmother, who was a painter, a gardener, a local investor, a business owner. And a demon...confronter? I could not bring myself to say hunter. That’s what Bramm was here for, right?

  As if I’d conjured him with my thoughts, he appeared at the head of the trail.

  I jumped a mile high and came down wrong on my ankle. Dang it!

  “Whoa there. You okay?” he asked gruffly, standing with feet apart and one hand on his generous hip, a stern expression in place.

  If someone were to walk by right now, what would they make of this situation? Would it look like I’d dressed a child up to play a fairytale dwarf in a local production of Snow White? What if Rob happened by?

  Oh! I’d completely forgotten, again, to ask whether Dana and Rob knew about the existence of the moon garden. I groaned and took a tender step on my sore ankle. It held. Lucky me.

  “I’ll live. Not sure how I’ll explain the leprechaun though.”

  His expression soured. “Modern culture’s version of leprechauns is insulting.”

  “Wait… Are you a leprechaun?”

  He set his mouth in a straight line and pinned me with a glare, refusing to answer. Which was as good as an answer. “By all the… A leprechaun?” My voice drifted as I considered the implications. Did he have a—

 

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17