“She’s a single mom. It has to be difficult. At least I’m able to help.”

“I appreciate it, Gwyn. Call me if you need me. I’ll get these Halloween slippers tagged and bring a load of them to the front.” He ambles through the doorway.

For the rest of the afternoon, I meander around the store, dusting and straightening up the shelves, stopping once to add black bat and gray shark slippers to the display shelf. Between the occasional customer, Jeff and I stock the shelves and finish up for the evening. My socks and sneakers are still damp by closing time, but I can’t walk home wearing the walking dead on my feet. At six sharp, he locks up, and we leave. I pull on the hood of my raincoat, pop open my umbrella, and make my way to Mitchell Hall.

The rain has lightened to a steady drizzle, but my damp feet are still chilly. I want to sneak into the Celestial Gardens to chat with the Seelie Fae and get home to my warm flannel sheets. As I approach the mansion, I see a woman standing there, statue-like, the rain dripping from the canopy of her umbrella. The wind blows her long, blond hair all over. She’ll be combing the knots out of it all night. As I move closer, I realize she hasn’t moved an inch. How will I slip past her?

When I reach the front of Mitchell Hall, I recognize her face under the filtered light of the lamppost. It’s the new council member, Alys Morgan, who was chatting with the Mayor Devine the other day. If I strike up a conversation, maybe it will prompt her to leave.

“Hello,” I say. “The weather is so nasty, isn’t it?”

She turns her head toward me, a blank, emotionless expression on her face. “Yes. It’s dismal.”

“Aren’t you Alys Morgan, one of the new council members?”

No response. She stares blankly at the yellow tape blocking the entrance to the Celestial Gardens.

“My name is Gwynedd Crowther. I work part time at Mystic sage. You’ve been standing here for quite a while, Ms. Morgan. Are you OK?”

She hesitates, but answers finally. “Yes…and yes.” She continues to fixate on the iron gate. “I sympathize with the mother whose child was abducted last night. I don’t have children of my own, but I imagine she’s hurting. As a member of the city council, I think it’s my responsibility to ensure this doesn’t happen again in Bearsden.”

“I’m glad to hear you want to address this, but isn’t it best if the Bearsden PD handles the situation?”

“Pfft. As if they could ever solve any crime in this town.”

Way to support the men in blue, lady. But I said the same thing about Jack Schmidt. Alys takes a deep breath and looks away briefly, returning a steely gaze to me. Well, excuse me for having an opinion.

“I better get home,” she says. “It was a pleasure to meet a constituent of the town. I hope you’ll attend the council meetings.”

“Yes, I go sometimes. This is my last year of grad school, so I’ve been too busy.”

“Enjoy the remainder of your evening.” Alys walks briskly toward the Raven Pub. I wait until she turns north at the corner.

She’s an odd one. What made her want to be the savior of our town if she has no kids? Did she lose a child to kidnapping or murder? Or was she unable to have children of her own? But it's hard to argue with a councilwoman with such conviction regarding our precious ones. Even if she disses our local police.

I check the surrounding area before darting to the gate and pushing under the crime scene tape. The ground is like a sponge from the rainfall, and I sink into the grass as I tiptoe to the mound.

“Shailagh? Aonghas? Come out. I need to talk to you.”

The rainfall taps on my umbrella’s canopy while I wait for them to appear. The portal lights up, and the Seelie Fae emerge. Their mint-green eyes sparkle through the drizzle as their golden-blond strands skip on a flurry of air.

“Aunt Gwyn, you came on a rainy day. Did you come to splash in the puddles with us?”

I bend down to chat with them. “No. I can’t stay. Something bad happened last night. A mother was in here with her baby, and he disappeared. You didn’t take the little human from the stroller to play, did you? I won’t be mad. But you need to bring him back.”

Shailagh and Aonghas trade glances. “No, Aunt Gwyn. Why would we take a human baby? He can’t play.”

I scan the ground near the fence. The heavy rain has removed any evidence of footprints. I hope the forensic team found them last night. Then I remember. I walked there, too.

“Did either of you see the human who took the baby?”

“No,” Shailagh says. “We didn’t cross over last night because humans were playing in here with big lights.”

“Right. But they weren’t playing. They were investigating—looking for clues. I’m wet from the rain and need to go home and change my clothes. I’ll come back to play when the weather improves.”

“Bye, Aunt Gwyn.” They cross through the portal.

As I stand, an aura overcomes me, and I feel a tug in my abdomen in the same spot as before. If this is my witch’s intuition trying to send me signals again, it’s failing miserably, because it’s only giving me gas.

I tiptoe out of the gardens and head for home, thinking about Dr. Ashley Lewis and her toddler. It’s been a long time since I babysat such a small child. The inexperienced grad student must have exaggerated. How bad could Aidan be?

Chapter sixA Coven’s Pledge

Mr. Yeats purrs in the corner chair of Leslie’s magic room. I set the photo of my parents, Rhys and Lowri, on the table. Tyler throws his car fob in the air, catching it as it falls. After repeating this annoying activity several times, I snatch the key midway through one of its tumbles.

“Hey,” he says. “Why did you do that?”

“You’re making me nervous.” I hand it back to him, admiring his coloring—the mirror image of me. “Are you scared to talk with Nain and Taid? You never asked before. I figured you were uncomfortable with it.”

“I was.” My son shoves the fob into his pocket. “I mean, they’re dead.”

I laugh while I prepare to burn the mugwort and star anise—double the power for divination. “They are, but your grandparents won’t present as ghosts as you’d expect from books and TV shows. You’ll see. It’s purely magical.” I motion for him to stand next to me. “Are you ready?”

Tyler nods. “Let’s go for it.”

The odor of smoldering mugwort and star anise fills the room. I raise my hand, chanting, and amber magic seeps from my fingertips. When I summon my parents, the outlines of their faces turn golden and protrude from the photo.

Tyler’s eyes widen. “Whoa. That’s lit.”

“You ain’t seen nothing yet,” I say, intensifying my witch energy.

Their images expand until they’re full sized, glittering inches from Tyler’s face. He gulps, shocked into silence as he stares at them. Rhys and Lowri Crowther beam at their grandson. A golden tear rolls down my mother’s shimmering cheek.

“My grandson is a grown man,” she says. “I’m so happy you’re here, Tyler.”

“Nain, don’t cry. I’m ecstatic we’re able to talk. I wish I’d done it sooner.”

My dad’s dazzling smile appears. “It is a glorious day to meet with you again. How are you doing, grandson?”

Tyler grins. “I’m good, Taid. And you? Wait. That was a dumb question.”

We all crack up and continue to chat as if they’ve never been gone, despite the whole golden head presentation. They ask their grandson about his girlfriend, Zoe Wu, and he becomes loquacious regarding his love. I lean against the table and listen while he catches them up on his work, magic skill level, and personal life. My parents deserve the uninterrupted time with him. Mr. Yeats remains in his chimera cat presentation, his tail swaying back and forth. When there is a lull in the conversation, I interject.

“This was great. We should do another family conference soon.”

Tyler glances at his cell phone. “I have to get back to work, but I’m down for another meetup.”

“Wonderful,” Mom says. “We look forward to talking to you again. It’s time for your mother to teach you how to conference with your ancestors. Then we could meet without her.”