Blood Moon (Silver Moon, #3) - By Rebecca A. Rogers Page 0,7
me as her personal baby doll when I was, like, five or six. Once I had a mind of my own, I was dead-set on being the neighborhood tomboy.
“That should do,” Fiona says, as she finishes with Ben. “Candra, ye can stay here and I shall show ye the inventory. Benjamin, the broom is in the front of the shop, alongside the entrance.”
“Thank you for doing this. You didn’t have to,” I tell her.
Her cheeks actually flush a rosy red. “’Tis the least I could do since ye are destitute travelers. I will say, I am envious ye are able to traverse different countries. It has always been my dream.”
“Well, maybe one day you’ll see your dream come true,” I say. “And maybe somebody out there in the world will be as kindhearted to you as you have been to us. You know, good karma and all that.”
Fiona’s eyebrows crumple together. “Karma?”
Ben pipes up. “It’s the universe making sure people get what they deserve, which means you’ll have something nice happen to you for helping the two of us.”
Fiona considers this for a moment, then smiles. “That sounds lovely.”
Counting inventory and sweeping the entire boutique doesn’t take long for Ben and me. As a matter of fact, we complete our jobs and then some before the day is finished. In the meantime, Fiona and her helpers labor intensively in the back room over our new clothing, certain they will have the project finished by tomorrow.
As the sun sets on another day, I realize Ben and I haven’t made much progress toward our ultimate goal—finding Alaric, Ulric, and Daciana, and stopping the curse. Should we encounter another witchy werewolf in the near future, though, I’m not entirely sure I want to find our ancestors. Not only is it creepy, it’s just downright bizarre. Since when does a person go from transforming into a werewolf to transforming into birds? If I had a power like that, I’d definitely screw it up, possibly turning myself into a flock of geese rather than sinister crows.
And if what Ben said is true, if the abilities used are far greater than anything his family conjured back in Hartford, we’re royally screwed. We can’t even begin to comprehend magic this dark, let alone try to stop it from ever happening. There’s only one option to take at this point: blend in with the rest of Colchester and see if we can find anything abnormal. Maybe we can locate Alaric and the others, follow them to wherever they live, unearth whoever is using the magic, and then figure out a way to stop them from ever causing this curse.
Before we end their practices, though, Ben and I need to figure out a way to get back home. I’m afraid they’re powerful enough to revoke our magical capabilities, and if they do, they’ll revoke all access to the past, present, and future. Which means Ben and I are stuck in the sixteenth century until we’re dead, and that’s undeniably not something I wish to think about.
Fiona’s employees have left for the evening, and Ben and I join Fiona as she locks up her shop. She turns around to face us, seemingly happy with the day’s work.
“Ye toiled with many chores today, and ye went beyond what I asked,” says Fiona. “Gratitude for thy help.”
“We’ll be back tomorrow,” Ben says. “If you need anything repaired, or need anything else cleaned, let us know.”
Fiona smiles and nods, but then her features shift into serious mode. “I do not mean to trouble ye, but where are ye staying? A room at Murdock’s, perhaps?”
Ben and I exchange glances. This isn’t something we discussed, should we be asked.
“Um,” I begin, deciding that, since I gave a lecture about karma, it’s best to speak the truth, “we’re sleeping in a barn near the forest.” I point toward the horizon, where the countryside meets the densely-wooded area.
Fiona gasps, but collects herself, holding one hand atop her heart. “Nobody goes into the dark forest.”
Talk about theatrics! This lady can pass as an actress.
“And why not?” I try not to smirk, but this melodramatic performance is making it very hard not to be amused.
Expressionless, she says, “Because nobody comes out alive.”
Okay, seriously? If I hadn’t experienced the crazy witch-wolf last night, I wouldn’t believe her. This reminds me of those creepy movies where everybody tells the newcomers not to enter a specific vicinity, and then they do it anyway, only to discover they should’ve listened. Except, in mine