Page 56 of An Accident Waiting to Dragon

Mamie squeezed her tighter. “I promised myself the day Goran died that I would not cave to the urge to see him in death. I think, for me at least, the pain of seeing him again, only to lose him once more, would be too much. He wouldn’t want that for me or your father.”

Goran probably wouldn’t want that for her either.

Mamie loosened her arms, then turned Gwen toward the hovel and gave her a gentle push. “Be brave. Listen to the elder. Do only what she tells you to.”

Right.

Heart banging around in her chest, Gwen knocked on the door, then hesitated as it swung open of its own accord with a rusty creak and scraping over the stone floor.

Stop letting your imagination run off. Just take each step as it comes.

Not wanting to trespass, she leaned forward, looking around. The inside matched the outside. Cozy furniture. A tea pot warming on top of an ancient aga. A table where a meal was halfway eaten, recently as it looked fresh.

But no living creature.

“Elder Spiritwhisper?” she called out tentatively.

She hadn’t even known of the pixie who lived here, despite the elder living close to Gwen’s home flutter. Granted, on the very outskirts of the protected, magically warded borders, and apparently, she kept to herself for centuries at a time. A loner.

Probably for good reason.

“A visitor!” A tiny, shaky voice sounded from beside her. Squeaked really. “How lovely. It’s been ages.”

Gwen whirled around to find her mother gone. In her place stood a pixie maybe half Gwen’s size in height, with long, wispy hair so white it might as well be translucent. The hair made the shock of her eyes—black as pitch but filled with starlight—even more profound.

Those dark eyes went a little hazy as she glanced over Gwen’s right shoulder like she was looking at…something. “Of course it’s lovely. Even kittens get lonely.”

What? Kittens?

“Guests are not the demon’s tools,” the elder said next, clucking her tongue as she continued to address the spot over Gwen’s shoulder.

Gwen turned slightly. Was someone in there she hadn’t seen?

But no. Nothing was behind her. The one room home appeared empty to her.

“Come along, Gwendolyn Moonsoar.”

Gwen leaned back a little. She knows my name?

The elderly pixie flitted past Gwen into her home. Gwen hesitated at the threshold.

“Come or go, but don’t leave the door open,” she was told.

Okay.

Gathering her courage like moonlight, Gwen stepped into the dark interior of the room. The interior was brightened only by small windows, a roaring fire in a massive stone fireplace, and candles everywhere dripping wax onto the tables in gloops and globs.

The elder set down a basket of flowers and herbs on the table. “A stitch in time,” she mumbled, then nodded and hummed to herself as if someone had answered.

Gwen glanced around, the fine hairs on her neck raising. They weren’t alone. She could feel that now. Did the elder see spirits all the time?

“Um…I’m here to request?—”

“Goran’s been waiting for you, m’dear.” The elder sat in one of the three chairs at the table, the one not set before the food, and patted another empty seat to her right. Gwen guessed she was leaving the food for…whatever else was in the room with them? Did spirits eat?

Focus, Gwen. Do everything she says and nothing more.

Taking a shaky seat, Gwen swallowed. “You know my brother?”

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