Throughout the following days, Calisa and Jack continued to slip through iridescent doors into other realms, using the records book as a guide for where to go and who to talk to. They tried to be careful: only choosing frequently used (and therefore hopefully stable) portals, keeping the visits short, and sticking together. Given that Auntie Zee had gone for supplies, it seemed very likely that one of her regular suppliers would have seen her, and it was just a matter of time before they found the right one. Calisa didn’t think it was her fault that all those regular suppliers happened to live in wondrous new realms. It was just a wonderful bonus.
They visited a seaside village where mermaids flocked to the docks to deliver fish to local fishmongers, a labyrinth made of bones where the skeletal guard at the gate swore to pass the news to those within, a vast forest populated by creatures who resembled mushrooms and lived at the bottom of a tree thatspiraled above them and blocked every hint of the sky. They spoke with a bone-like creature who covered its body in the pelt of a bear and to a family where the parents were made of bark and leaves and the children were twigs with wisps of grass for hair.
And in between their otherworldly visits, they kept fixing up the inn.
Despite worrying about why Auntie Zee hadn’t come back yet and what was going to happen to Jack and the inn and her future and everything she knew she was supposed to be worried about…Calisa was the happiest she’d ever been.
Coming outside just after dawn, she could hear the stream burbling and bubbling, but she couldn’t see it—it was beneath a shroud of brambles. Kendra had talked about picnics in the garden beside it. Even Calisa’s moms had mentioned the charming brook that skipped over rocks and meandered between flowers. Today they were going to set the stream free.
Joining her, Jack handed her one of his shirts, a long-sleeve button-down. “To protect your arms from scratches,” he said. “I’m seeing a lot of thorns.”
It was sweeter and more thoughtful than being handed a bouquet of roses.
Calisa stared at him for a long second and wondered if she should kiss him. He’d taken this new loss—all the uncertainty about Auntie Zee and when she’d return, as well as all the muck it dredged up with his father’s absence—and was still thinking of others, still being kind. It was extraordinary.
He only smiled at her, completely oblivious to that fact thatshe was wondering if he’d be a gentle kisser or one of those kissers who want to swallow you whole. She wondered which she wanted him to be.
“Thanks” was all she said out loud. She pulled on the shirt, and it smelled faintly of him—a little like pine needles, a little like maple syrup.
Jack handed her a pair of clippers and kept one for himself.
They didn’t mention Auntie Zee. Or the future of the inn. Or their future. Side by side, they began clearing the brambles that blocked the streambed. They piled them in a heap beside the greenhouse. Later, they’d ask Melidor if she wanted her beaver friends to haul them off into the forest, for use in their dams or whatever beavers did. Calisa wasn’t entirely clear on the lives of the local forest animals, and she didn’t particularly care—all her focus was the brambles. She didn’t want to think about anything else right now.
As the sun rose higher over the mountains, she began to sweat in the long-sleeved shirt, but she was still grateful for the sleeves. At least half the brambles had thorns that seemed to want to drink her blood.
“Hey, hold on one second,” Jack said.
She quit clipping. Leaning over, he plucked a twig out of her hair. His face was inches from hers.If I were braver, I’d kiss him.Her eyes fixed on his lips. He tossed the twig onto the stack of plant debris.
“There used to be lilies that grew by the stream, until it got overrun,” Jack said. “It was beautiful. I shouldn’t have let it get so bad.”
“You were trying to do everything by yourself,” Calisa said.Breathe, she reminded herself. She shouldn’t be thinking about kissing anyone while she was slicked with sweat. “You’re lucky you didn’t completely burn out. Didn’t Auntie Zee see you had too much on your plate?” She winced inwardly—she hadn’t meant to mention Auntie Zee.
Jack gave a shrug that could have had a million different meanings, none of which were connected to kissing her. “She told me not to do more than I could. But if I didn’t, who would? She couldn’t. Can’t.” He clipped the brambles as if it were their fault that he’d been forced to take on the burden of keeping the bed-and-breakfast running practically by himself—and now exclusively on their shoulders. She was acutely aware that she barely knew anything about running a bed-and-breakfast. Except how to bake a cake. And clean a room. And yank out weeds.
Wings wide, Steve glided over her head and then landed in the middle of the stream. With a sizzle-like sigh, he settled into the water. Burbling around him, it flowed over his belly and legs and tail. He folded his wings across his back and lowered his snout to take a drink, lapping the water like a cat. He let out a pleased chirp.
“One guest approves,” Jack said, amused.
They continued to clear the weeds and brambles from around the stream until you could trace its entire path out of the forest, through the gardens, past the apple tree, and back into the forest. It wasn’t exactly picnic-ready, but it was visible. A vast improvement. And enough for what she wanted: anidyllic view from the windows of the inn. The lizard seemed very appreciative of their work, basking in the water.
Together, Calisa and Jack hauled the debris to the edge of the forest for Melidor to distribute to whatever woodland creatures she chose. When they were finished, Jack put away the shears, clippers, and gloves, while Calisa went inside to shower. He must have done the same, because when they met up again in the kitchen, his hair was wet as well, with strands clinging to his neck. She caught herself staring at the bob of his throat before she dragged her eyes up to his face.
“Either we’ll find her or she’ll come back,” Calisa said.
Jack nodded. “When I’m with you, I think I believe it.”
—
After another visit—this time to a dark, fungal world where inhabitants lived in enormous mushrooms—Calisa returned with Jack to serve cake at teatime: a leftover carrot cake from the day before. Between all the search missions and gardening and innkeeping tasks, she hadn’t had much time to devote to baking. She should have chopped the carrots finer, and she wished she knew how to make fancy icing designs to draw a rabbit on the top, but it had turned out reasonably well. She had settled on spreading the cream cheese icing as smoothly as she could, so it looked as professional as possible. If she were home and not jaunting off to other realms regularly, she would have watched a slew of how-to videos by now, but here she just had her instincts and Jack’s father’s cookbook.
Once tea was set up for the guests and after she’d offeredPortia a bit of tuna fish, which the cat had grudgingly accepted, Calisa went outside to invite Melidor in for a slice. The carrot cake had been her favorite, she’d said. It had both a cream cheese icing and a featured vegetable. She was partial to veggies and cheese.
Near the porch, Melidor was making snow angels in the mulch around the hydrangeas. She squinted at Calisa when she came into view. “Carrot cake?” she said hopefully.
“Yep. That’s what I was coming to tell you.” She was glad there were leftovers to offer the dryad.
“Yay!” She hopped to her feet, and little green sprouts tumbled out of her arms onto the ground. They bounced, and Melidor shrieked, then immediately cooed, “You’re fine, you’re fine, I’m fine, everything’s fine.”
