is it that the sound of our voices so close isn’t breaking her, um, eardrums?”
Lochlan smiled. “Magic.”
Even more astounding was that I could hear Ivy as well as if she was speaking with the vocal cords of a full-sized person. “Hello again, Rita,” she said.
“A very long time ago, I met Ivy as I was passing through the region on holiday, a detour on the way to see His Majesty’s Courts and Tribunals in London.”
“His Majesty?” I said.
He cleared his throat. “As I said, it was long ago. Anyway, I encountered Ivy and was struck by love surely as if Eros had aimed an arrow at my heart.”
“Awwww,” Ivy said.
“Do not pretend surprise that I’m romantic.” Lochlan smiled at the pixie before turning back to me. “She was tending a flower garden at the inn where I’d taken a room for the night. She was born here in Cumbria, which is known as the Eden District. The ley lines form an Isosceles triangle from here at Hallow Hill, to Derry in Northern Ireland, and Inverness, Scotland. It’s not the only magical place on earth, but it’s known for frequent intersections between the mundane and magical worlds.
“Ivy has strong familial ties. So I moved here.” She zipped up and away and landed on Lochlan’s shoulder. “It’s one thing I’ve never regretted.”
I was dying to ask about the things that he did regret but decided that would be off topic. So, I filed it away for another day. That’s when I realized I’d made a decision to stay. There’d been no formal admission, no sense of crossing a line. It just sort of happened without conscious agreement. Huh.
I pushed my chair out a bit, crossed my right leg over my left and removed my right shoe. Lochlan was eighty-something and Ivy wasn’t there. I put the shoe back on. Young elven-eared Lochlan had taken the place of the older-looking human and Ivy sat on his shoulder, wings moving slowly.
Repeating this twice more, not because I needed further confirmation, but because it was just cool, I said, “This is amazing.”
“And you accept the post?” Lochlan said. “I have papers for you to sign that make it official and give you ownership of the estate.”
My head was shaking no without my conscious direction. I took that as a sign. I remembered a phrase I’d heard watching depictions of courtroom dramas and thought it was appropriate.
“I need to take this under advisement. Let me spend a night, find out what it feels like to wake up here. Walk around the village in the, um, shoes. Am I going to see something different if I do?”
“Hallow Hill is home to a community of magic kind. That’s one of the reasons why we’re off the beaten tourist path. We own land far and wide around so that people don’t see us as their center commerce. We don’t get unwelcome residents because there’re no jobs available for humans. Present company excepted. Of course.”
“Of course,” I repeated drily. “You’re saying that, if I stay, I’ll be the only human.”
Right after Maggie nodded affirmation, I felt my eyes widen. “Oh my God! When you said, ‘I see you met the vampire’, you really meant that he’s an actual…”
“Vampire,” Maggie finished the sentence. Then her own eyes grew wide. “Oh, but there’s no worry. When he needs to feed, he goes to Carlisle where there’re no doubt plenty who’re willin’. He’ll no’ be bitin’ you. Rest assured.”
“Um. That’s good to know.” As I processed this, my mind began to catalog the other people I’d met. “So, if I’m the only human resident, that means the silversmith…”
“Dwarf,” Maggie said.
“You mean like in Lord of the Rings?”
Maggie looked at Lochlan, who nodded. “Just so. Are you a fan?”
“If you mean fan as short for fanatic, then no. But I like the story.”
“You have good taste,” said Lochlan.
“Thank you,” I said. “Thomasin?”
“Goblin.”
I pressed my lips together. “I need to take you more literally, Maggie. You said the bootmaker is a goblin and you said the guy in jodhpurs was a vampire. I just assumed you were being… colorful. As Irish sometimes tend to be.”
She laughed. “Can no’ deny that. Storytellers we are, to be sure. What do they call it?” She looked at Lochlan.
“Hyperbole,” he offered.
“That’s it,” Maggie agreed cheerfully.
“Molly?” I queried.
“Nurture nymph.”
I shook my head. “I’ve never heard of that.”
“Well,” Maggie said, “there are nature nymphs and nurture nymphs. Nurture nymphs are at home takin’ care of things that sustain. Like food and