“Well,” Lochlan said, “every magistrate makes their own way. You’ll do the same.”
“Execution is out.”
Lochlan shrugged. “Up to you. You’re the magistrate.”
“Not until I accept the job,” I protested. Lochlan splayed his hands as if to indicate that goes without saying. “Did you say Merle the, um…?”
“Mathemagician.”
“Did you say he is a genius? Not he was a genius?”
“Aye. Sharp as a razor’s edge,” Maggie said.
“And you also said he came up with this idea?”
“Aye.” Maggie nodded.
“So, you’re saying he’s eight hundred years old?”
Lochlan cleared his throat. “We may’ve not got around to mentioning that many of us are long-lived, compared to humans. But while we’re on the subject, magistrates tend to live longer than most humans.”
“Maybe somethin’ about bein’ ‘round magic,” Maggie guessed. “Seeps into the essence, it does.”
Ivy nodded. “Maybe.”
“One last question. Then I’m going.” My announcement sounded final enough this time that I’d feel like a dweeb if I didn’t follow through. “Has there ever been a magistrate who, um, quit?”
The three looked at each other with mutual shaking of heads.
“No,” Lochlan voiced the consensus. “Guess what I’m going to say next.”
“The Powers That Be are never wrong.” I stood then turned back. “Okay. This really is the last one, or two, questions. I have a daughter. In college. She’s grown. Or almost grown.” Since no one took that as a cue, I went on. “If I stay, she might visit sometime.”
“And welcome she would be,” Lochlan said.
“Indeed,” Maggie added. “So long as she does no’ stay.” I looked to Maggie for clarification of what sounded like an unfriendly thing to say to a person’s mother. “’Twould be very hard to keep up appearances permanently, you understand. With a human in our midst.”
“Right. Well, she’s not the sort who’d want to live here. Quiet life is not her thing.”
“What’s the other question?” Lochlan asked.
“I’m going to be involved in a divorce proceeding.”
“We have people to handle that. You’ll not be troubled with such annoyances. We’ve also taken care of permanent work visas and such. When you’re ready to give your final answer, tomorrow or the next day, I’ll have you sign papers for ownership and bank accounts, and give you the code to the safe.”
That was interesting. “What will I find in the safe?”
“Hmmm. Mostly journals of magistrates who’ve gone before. Some kept written records of the more interesting cases. Might be enlightening reading. But there’s also the magistrate’s seal. It’s a big deal.”
“You’re a poet and didn’t know it.”
Without hesitating, he said, “You made a rhyme. You’ll see your fellow before bedtime.”
We both laughed. It would be hard to not like Lochlan.
Certainly, I was intrigued by the idea of journals and halfway wished I could take one or two to bed with me that very night.
“Reading some first-person magistrate history could help me with my decision. And my continuing education. If I stay.”
CHAPTER FOUR Jutting and Jaunty
I went back to the townhouse expecting that detached, slightly uncomfortable feeling you get when sleeping in a strange place. Particularly with it being an entire house all to myself. I withdrew a sleep shirt from my bag, not wanting to make a commitment beyond the night. But gradually I succumbed to the vibe of the house, which was as soothing as a loving hug.
Lochlan was right. I enjoyed the best night’s sleep in memory and woke without a single indication of advancing age. No creaks. No aches. No grogginess. Just joie de vivre. I wasn’t even feeling lingering effects from the time change.
I made coffee in the French press, noting that someone had taken the trouble to note my taste and stock my favorites, pulled the wool throw from the sofa around my shoulders, and took it out into the garden. The beautiful blood orange tree was gone. In its place was a pink tulip tree in full bloom. I reached up to rub a leaf between thumb and fingers, confirming that it was real. It was.
Twenty-four hours earlier such an experience would have had me running for the hills. But that was before I saw an eighty-year-old man become a thirty-year-old elf. Not to mention Ivy and her pixie dust.
After congratulating myself on taking all of this like a champ, I made toast, sat down at the desk, and opened my laptop to check email. I’d left it charging when I went to bed, right after texting my daughter to let her know that I was enjoying my vacation to England. She’d taken