I wouldn’t want to be a winter or spring pixie for anything.
“Those are their parents,” Meg says, speaking of the autumn pixie couple who just walked in. They’re in their mid-to-late fifties, and the room already feels more peaceful. “Hattie and Douglas. They own the toy store.”
“And half a dozen other buildings in town,” Ryder says. “River rents from them. As do Cosette and Tessalie.”
“They’re nearly as well-off as the mayor’s family,” Meg whispers.
I’ll never be able to keep all this straight.
“Oh, and that’s Theodosia.” Meg’s eyes are now on a petite, older woman who just walked in behind the pixie couple.
She’s in a breezy, bohemian, natural-dyed sort of dress, which is tucked in at her waist with a scarf. Her red-and-grayhair is wavy and a little wild, and it falls all the way to her waist. I can’t make out her magic.
“She owns the crystal and divination shop,” Meg whispers.
“The what?” I ask, incredulous.
Meg laughs. “She knows it’s a farce, but the tourists eat it up.” She lowers her voice. “She’s aleprechaun.”
“Ansel and Rosalie are here,” Ryder says as the mage I met in the street a few days ago walks in with a woman who shares his dark hair and sharply beautiful features. “They didn’t come last time.”
“Have you met Rosalie?” Meg asks. “Her brother is distant and often contrary, but she’s nice.”
“I haven’t.”
The woman is probably a few years older than me, and she has a friendly smile. I recognize the siblings’ mage-magic now, especially after seeing so much of it at the college.
“She’s usually at the counter of the rock shop while Ansel is in the back, concocting who-knows-what.”
Meg would likely keep going, but Ash takes his place behind the lectern. “Everyone, find your seats. Many of you arrived late, so we’re already behind schedule.”
“It’s good to see you too, Ash,” Ryder says just loud enough for Meg and me to hear. “Glad to be here—thanks for the warm welcome.”
Meg snorts, and I hide a smile.
Ash looks down at his notes. “Most of what we need to discuss will be directed toward our local business owners. We’ll cover that last so the rest of you may leave early.”
People shift as the stragglers find seats.
“First order of business—fae beasts. There have been numerous sightings. Some of you are getting negligent.” He pauses, his cool gaze landing purposefully on someone in the back. “Because of that, we’ve had to reassess our permits. Thefirst time your beast escapes, you will receive a warning. The second time, we will revoke your fae beast permit.”
“Come on, Ash,” a deep voice says from several rows behind me. “It was an accident.”
“It was an accident the first time, Dorian,” Ash says sharply. “For a multitude of reasons, we cannot have your dragons running loose around town. This is your final warning.”
I glance back, hoping to catch a glimpse of the man who raises dragons, but there are too many people in the way.
“All right, let’s move on to the next order of business,” Ash says. “We have someone interested in building a miniature golf course off Maple Street. We’ve turned down golf courses in the past, but that’s because the people who approached us were human. The council has discussed it, and we believe it will add value to our town, provided the owners agree to our required aesthetic. However, we would like your opinions. If you have any thoughts or concerns, please meet with Anna sometime this week.”
He touches on several more subjects, moving through his list quickly and efficiently.
“The remainder of my notes are for the shopkeepers on Main Street only. The rest of you may leave. Thank you for your time.”
About half the room rises, and people pause to talk.
“Please move your conversations outside so we may continue the meeting,” Ash says, raising his voice to be heard over the chattering.
When the door closes behind the final straggler, he continues, “Everyone, I would like to introduce you to Kathleen Merriweather, Laverna’s niece and the new owner of Moss Hollow’s beloved tea shop. Kathleen, would you please come to the front and greet everyone?”
