I plop on the stool behind the counter. That’s one way to put it. It would be rude not to reply, and I can’t avoid him forever. Immediately, I receive two more texts back-to-back.
Seamus: Would you consider giving me an opportunity to make amends?
Seamus: I value our friendship and I will take whatever steps I can to repair the damage.
This isn’t like what happened with Nick. He’s not an evil fairy trying to fulfill a prophecy. To be fair, I took advantage of his friendship and affection. I’d be lying to myself if I didn’t acknowledge that fact.
Me: Thank you for reaching out. I’m willing to talk. When would you like to meet?
Seamus: A time that is agreeable to you in a public setting of your choice.
Me: Isn’t a public place risky for our topic of conversation?
Seamus: Yes, but I wanted you to feel safe.
He certainly is trying, despite how uncomfortable this is for him.
Me: I trust you. Why don’t I stop by your house? Wednesday lunchtime?
Seamus: That is most agreeable.
When I glance up from my cell, Alys is waiting at the counter with a few Yule decorations, clenching her jaw. I slide my phone underneath.
“Sorry. I didn’t notice you standing there. I’ll ring these up.”
“Thank you. I visited the shelter this morning. Elijah Jackson was bubbling over with news about your red-headed friend having a baby girl. What did she name her?”
“Ronnie named her Luna. That comes to twenty-five dollars and sixteen cents.”
“What a charming name,” she says, pushing her credit card into the terminal. “I bet she has a head covered in her mother’s red hair.”
“Actually, it’s mostly blond. Has a reddish tint to it. She said Luna has her mom’s coloring.”
Alys grins as she lifts her bag. “What a surprise. Will you attend the council meeting tomorrow evening?”
“I plan to. Elijah said you want to keep the curfew in place. Why not lift the ordinance if the threat of kidnappings has ended?”
“To protect the children of the town, of course.”
“I don’t think most of the residents will approve. The council should vote to remove the ordinance.”
“That remains to be seen.” She heads toward the exit. “Have a wonderful day.”
“You, too. And thank you for shopping at Mystic Sage.”
Alys leaves and the bamboo chimes clank when the door shuts. I admire her for her devotion to the town’s youth, but I don’t think the townies will agree with her. Many of them want freedom for their older children.
As I gaze out the window, my gut pinches. My intuition tells me freedom may come at a cost.
I tap on Ashley’s apartment door. She opens it right away, already dressed in a wool pea coat.
“Hi, Gwyn. I have to dash out. Aidan went down for his nap late, and I’m behind on my lecture for today.”
“That’s fine,” I say, removing my puffer jacket. “You should take an umbrella. It’s pouring out.”
“Oh, right. With the gloomy weather, he may sleep longer, too. It should be a peaceful afternoon for you.” She grabs her umbrella.
“You know I don’t mind playing with him. But I brought a book with me to read in case he wanted to play by himself. He does that more these days.”
She smiles. “Yes, thanks to you. Gotta rush. I’ll be back around four.”
I shut the door, lock it, and drop my umbrella on the entry tile. In case Aidan wakes up, I go to the bathroom to relieve myself. I use the last of the toilet paper. When I’m finished washing my hands, I search the vanity under the sink for a replacement roll. Being the klutz I am, I knock a small plastic bottle onto the floor. When I pick it up, I discover dark-brown hair color for touching up roots. Does Ashley color her hair? I place the hair dye back and replace the TP on the holder.
Since I have the time, I plop on the sofa and pull out the tome on Welsh fairies Leslie gave me. As I flip through the pages, I’m intrigued by the exquisite artwork of the Tylwyth Teg. Some possess golden locks with fragile transparent wings while others have hair so light it’s nearly white. They have green wings like that of butterflies. Even more have moss-colored faces and pointed ears.
I imagine they exist in the Otherworld like the Scottish and Irish fairies we’ve come across. Even if the Tylwyth Teg were to cross over, they don’t appear to be malevolent. We have more pressing issues in Bearsden than benign Welsh fairies. We must close the portal before Nuada’s Tuatha Dé Danann family crosses over along with the gray-skinned, monstrous giant.
The first story covers what Ashley mentioned—their mischievous behavior. A second one tells of the local people setting out milk bowls for the Tylwyth Teg to keep them from causing trouble when the fairies ride on horses in processions to the homes. A third describes the same lore I came across in Ashley’s special book her husband gave her, regarding the Tylwyth Teg’s fondness of mortals with golden hair and their desire to marry them. But the next tale discusses a malicious side. The fairies steal a tiny child, and the mother has to figure out how to get him back. I sit up on the edge of the sofa, my insides tightening and my heart thumping to beat the band, but I read on.
To prevent mortals missing their offspring, Tylwyth Teg fairies replaced the stolen children with clones called changelings.
“Miss Gwyn.”
“Agh!” I yelp, discovering Aidan staring at me.
He pouts. “I’m sorry, Miss Gwyn.”
