Previous: Elder Night, Part One

“Hazel?” Holly whispered, but there was no reply. When had it gotten so dark? She had been so shocked over that creepy tea-bearing bat-thing, and then the next thing she knew the room had turned dark and cold.

She put out a hand a summoned a little ball of flame. It was always more difficult like that—calling the fire from nothing. But she didn’t have a choice. She was just glad it worked, even though the darkness that had been pushed back seemed like nothing at all. It was still so dark, and all Holly could see in the corner of her eye were shadowed silhouettes that seemed to vanish as soon as she looked at them.

Previous: Fasting Friendship

Hazel glanced at the others in the carriage as it rattled down the dusty road. Somehow, the mood inside seemed less heavy than it had the previous day. It was a wonder, given everything that had happened. But Hawthorn and Holly no longer seemed so miserable and uncomfortable around each other. And Hemlock seemed, well, like Hemlock. It was both comforting as well as puzzling. She didn’t entirely trust him or his motives, and yet she was glad he was there.

Tum sat outside with the driver, and every now and then snippets of his voice would carry over the horses and carriage.

“Strawberries!” Tum shouted. “I smell like strawberries!”

Previous: Haunted Heart

“Lover’s spat, eh?” Tum said as Holly packed the dresses that he had strewn about her room.

“Hazel’s an idiot,” Holly said. “If Hawthorn ever held my hand or said anything like that to me, I… I don’t know what I’d do. Probably die. But in a good way.”

Tum nodded. “Death By Lover is the best way to go. It’s how Uncle Shem went–had a big old smile on his face, too.”

“Well, I… I don’t think I meant it like that.”

So, where did January go? It feels like I blinked, and then suddenly it’s February. Add in the fact that the Swedish weather lately has been behaving more like April, I’m left feeling slightly perplexed as to what time of year it actually is.

Lots of things on the proverbial burners, some of which I already discussed in my last blog post, but also new things. Like me actually enjoying spending time on social media. Which, if you know me, is pretty much a revelation, kind of like me no longer dreading marketing.

Previous: Homeward Heart

Hazel stood near the fire in the common room. The hour was late, and she suspected everyone else slept, except for that creepy innkeeper, of course. Every now and then he would appear, fluff the pillows on the armchairs near the fire, all while grinning at her and not saying a word. It was unsettling and Hazel would glower at him, but the man seemed unconcerned with her displeasure.

She walked to the bookshelf and perused the odd selection.What kinds of books were these? Pressed Woodsprites that Impress; Seasonal Beverages for the Lunar Touched, and, her favorite, From Melting Faces to Melting Cheese: How to Turn Your Culinary Mishaps into Appetizers that Dazzle. Against her better judgment, she pulled that last title from the shelf. She cracked open the book to a page with a wood etching of a cook brandishing a club at a cornered rat.