Page 56 of Beyond the Cottage

Patently false, but there was little point in arguing it. “Will you be okay? I fear I’m leaving you in the lurch.”

“Don’t worry about me, I mostly dabbled in dust to help you.”

“I, ah…might be gone for a while after this. I don’t know when we’ll see each other again.”

“And where are you off to?”

“Gretta says she knows an investor for the repellent, and she’s asked me to join her in the capital. More likely, a prison sentence awaits me when we reach Antrelle.”

Isobel’s eyes flared. “Are you going with her?”

“To Antrelle? Yes.”

“What about the capital?”

He couldn’t bring himself to believe that was an actual possibility. Best to take each moment as it came. “I don’t know. Probably not.”

“It’s a good thing I’ve got plenty of hope for you.”

Disregarding her misplaced optimism, he said, “There’s something else—Gretta was sent here by her employer specifically to find you. He’s a senator named Nathaniel Grey.”

Isobel’s brow arched. “Indeed?”

“Yes. I don’t want you to lie to Gretta, but be cautious. I get the impression he’s a powerful man, and I have no idea what he wants with you.”

“My,” she preened. “A powerful man with questionable intentions wants me? Maybe I shall go looking forhim.”

“I’m sure you’d have him eating out of your hand within an hour. Still, be careful.”

She winked. “I always am.”

Ansel slid the hammer through his belt loop and started unbuttoning his shirt. “You better go back inside. Please, Izz, be patient with her. Give her breathing room.”

“Of course.”

“And for godssake, do not meddle in mine and Gretta’s personal affairs.”

She fluffed her wayward curls. “Ansel, do you know me at all?”

“Yes. I do.”

She saucily blew him a kiss and traipsed to the house.

Chapter 21

Cabin: Austere. Utilitarian furnishings, no personal effects. Small cache of magic contraband, large cache of unidentified gold currency. Possible international spell dealer?

Gretta nibbled her pencil and continued writing.

No body parts/corpses upon cursory survey, could be buried in yard. Bring Brand to smell for deceased.

Lacking anything else to report, Gretta closed her notepad. She’d searched every room and, except for the highly suspect gold, hadn’t found much.

A shelf in the bedroom held a few enchanted objects and potions—no doubt Isobel was Ansel’s contact in the black market. But otherwise, the cabin was completely ordinary. Conspicuously uninteresting. Like the overly-correct speech of someone pretending they weren’t sloshed.

She didn’t buy the kindly grandma act for a second. Isobel was hiding something.

Gretta made one positive discovery, at least. The stockpile of magic items included two beauty talismans. Inconclusive butpromising. She just hoped she hadn’t finally tracked down an illusion witch only to find her magic was too weak to help Nat.

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