Page 1 of The Lone Wolf Café
Chapter One
I’d done it.
I’d actually done it.
I had been on the ferry for thirty minutes, and the remnants of my island – my whole life – had disappeared behind us, slowly consumed by the horizon until I was surrounded by nothing but ocean. This boat, and the dark, churning water surrounding it, was my first glimpse into life beyond the remote island I called home. The real world.
The ferry was vastly different from my family’s lobster fishing boats. It had two decks, was painted a dull shade of cream, and showed its age with chipped paint and gritty bits of rust. It had a motor – something I had only seen from a distance while visiting the human islands. It was a strange contraption: a loud, whirring metal beast that roared like a bear, gliding us across the water faster than any rowboat. The ferry’s frothy white wake sprawled out behind us, almost as far as I could see.
I stood on the open-air top deck, clutching the rusted metal railing as I tilted my head back and gulped lungfuls of air. I was accustomed to Maine’s climate – the briny heat of sea salt mixed with the earthy chill of autumn and pine creating a sharp yet comforting scent. It was what I grew up with. It was home.
But now, the salt and cold air seeping down my throat had never been so refreshing. I felt rejuvenated. I feltalive. My new world teemed with endless paths to take – endless possibilities to explore. I escaped, and I was free.
It was invigorating.
But also terrifying.
I hadn’t let myself process that second part yet.
Life on my home island, Hollenboro, had been easy but quiet. My mother passed away when I was six – though I was too youngto remember her fully – and my father ensured my sisters and I had all we could ever want. We climbed pine trees, scoured the forest for blueberries and rabbits, then came home to whole, steaming lobsters which we shelled with our bare hands. We were wild. Free.
Or so I thought.
As a child, Hollenboro seemed like paradise. My father told us stories of the mainland human kids, how they spent all day crammed inside a building studying for tests, just to spend their entire lives indoors chained to a desk.We have the island,he would say.The forest. The sea. We’re the fortunate ones in the world, Nettie. Not them.
When I was young, I believed it. But as I matured, so did my curiosity. It gnawed at my stomach like a ravenous wolf, threatening to consume me whole if I didn’t act on it.
I finally snapped when I was fifteen. I slipped out of our humble three-room cottage, stole our spare rowboat, and paddled to a neighboring human-populated island. Once inside the closed-down schoolhouse, I saw the map which proved just how small Hollenboro was in the grand scheme of the world, and I realized everything I’d been taught was a lie.
My life had been one insignificant dot on an entire planet. There was a wholeworldout there. Not only were there humans, with their advanced technology and complex societies, there was also a plethora of other magical creatures living under the humans’ noses like we did. Faeries. Witches. Vampires. Other types of shifters from foxes to dragons. The more I explored, digging through the contents of neighboring islands, the more I learned.
And the more I ached to see it all.
But now, on my twenty-first birthday, after years of secret day trips to nearby islands, I received news that changed everything. The final nail in the coffin – the one that truly sealed my fate.I knew I couldn’t stay in Hollenboro. So, I packed what meager belongings I could, snuck onto a ferry headed for the mainland, and prayed my father wouldn’t come searching for me.
Or at least, he wouldn’tfindme.
Thinking about my life and what brought me to this point made thosefreedom-is-terrifyingthoughts return. I clenched my abnormally-sharp canine teeth, shoved my memories deep into my subconscious and forced myself to admire the water with a peacefully empty mind.
I loved the ocean. It was deep, dark, and alive, as it swirled and churned and lapped against the boat. A primal beast, a vast and endless force, reminding me no matter how strong or fierce we magical beings were, nature held the most powerful magic of all.
I craned my head over my shoulder, surveying the other passengers. A few were also admiring the water, but most were gazing empty-eyed into small rectangular devices. It was so disconcerting, I wondered if I should tap them on the shoulder and ask if they were okay. I shrugged it off, assuming it was some odd human behavior I was not yet accustomed to.
But I could feel it – their disinterest, their boredom, their general indifference to the majesty surrounding them. It was perplexing, though I was familiar with detecting emotions I couldn’t quite understand. I’d always had that skill – picking up on feelings of others, sensing them like they were my own. My father claimed it was because I was an “old soul”. My sisters simply called me a weirdo.
“Attention all passengers!”
I jolted. The voice was tinny and garbled, nothing like I’d heard from a living being. Once I recovered from the fright, I realized it was coming from a cone-shaped device bolted to the side of the ship.Another newfangled human invention. Interesting.
“At the bow of the ship, you’ll see Bar Harbor coming up on our right. We will arrive at our destination in approximatelyten minutes. Please ensure you have all your belongings and be ready to depart.”
I made my way to the bow, weaving through the few humans who also showed an interest in seeing the mainland, and hung my forearms over the metal paint-chipped railing. The land was small at first; a thin, indistinguishable line over the horizon. But as we got closer, and the land mass grew larger, the feeling of being an incredibly small person in a vast, wondrous world bloomed in my heart again.
The mainland.
I’d made it.
Of course, I had no idea what to do next. All I packed were a few sentimental trinkets, a bag of pastries I’d made that morning, and a half-empty flask of water. Plus the clothes I was wearing: a soft, maple syrup-colored dress over a long-sleeved white shirt and a pair of brown lace-up boots. Since it was October, the air was crisp but comfortable, so for now, my clothing choice was fine. But I knew it wouldn’t be that way in a few months once winter hit.
