Page 65 of The Pumpkin Bride

“Acquaintance. As for what he is . . . first and foremost, I’d call him a guardian. I don’t know its exact territory, but it’s several hectares of the forest to the east of the orchard. He knows every plant and creature in his domain and is protective of them. He’s also a shapeshifter.”

“Which explains how he looked like Rowan.”

Thunder rolled above them, but her busy hands and the conversation gave her ample reason to ignore it and the lightning that preceded it.

“As well as why your minimancy didn’t persist. Your magic against his is like putting shackles on a strongman—you can do it, but it’ll hold them for only so long.”

In the small space they were well choreographed, anticipating where the other would move and avoiding collisions. So different from the first time they’d cooked together, when she’d needed his instruction on how frequently to stir the pottage.

“But how did he know to look like Rowan, or even what Rowan looked like?” Patiently, she stirred the loops of onion through the sweating stage in the rich melted butter in the pan. “Is he a mind reader?”

“No—that’s what he and I were discussing. The Leshy and I met when I first moved here, and we’ve developed a mutual agreement to ignore each other. I told him you were with me. He apologized for nearly kidnapping you, by the way.”

She shivered. “I’ll thank him the next time I see him, which I hope is never.”

Jask snort-laughed. “He told me Crispin has been meeting with magical creatures across the hinterlands, showing them your family portrait, and offering rewards to anyone who found and returned you to him. The Leshy guessed your brothers would be most likely to appear in the forest and liked Rowan’s face better.”

“Well, he was spot on.” The onions softened and turned golden. “I wish Crispin wasn’t so cozy with magical folk around here.”

Jask chopped goldcaps. “He’s not cozy with them, but he’s respectful. And he’s won their favor by rejecting any movements to outlaw magic.”

“That may be his one good quality.” The onions in her pan shrank into a deep jammy amber. “But they know it’s so he can get something out of them, right?”

Jask threw in thyme with the sautéed goldcaps. “Yes, but it’s symbiotic. From him, they get safe quarter.”

She turned that over in her mind. Much like Jask gave her safe quarter, she could grudgingly respect Crispin for welcoming magic in Harvest Hollow. This might be an area where Thornwick could learn from its western neighbor.

“If Crispin has spoken to the magical creatures around here, then that’s even more reason for me to stay put on your farm. Are there others I should know about?”

Jask palmed his neck. “I’ve heard rumors of a phoenix that guards Kindlewood. With my own eyes, I’ve seen fairies flit about Coldpress Lake and a kelpie who inhabits it.”

“Is that why you won’t let me go there?” After transferring the onions to the baking dish Jask prepared with oil, she whipped eggs with the cream he’d skimmed from this morning’s milking.

“That and wayfarers like to fish there.”

“You’re too cautious. I’d love to see fairies and kelpies.” She poured the egg mixture over the onion and mushrooms, then sprinkled the top with rosemary. “Haven’t I proven I can handle myself with both magical and mundane creatures?”

“You have. I’m well-impressed that you stalled the Leshy long enough that I could catch up to you. But I still worry—your scream made my heart lurch.”

As Jask slid it into the open wood-fired oven, Marigold flipped the sandglass.

“Yet you stopped from crossing into the Leshy’s territory.”

“I didn’t stop—I was stopped. There’s a difference.”

She wrinkled her brow. “But what stopped you? I crossed into his forest, so there was no magical barrier.”

“Not on his territory, no.”

“So, there’s one on yours,” she said. “But people cross the border of Grimroot Farm all the time. You said so yourself.”

“I did,” he said, crossing his luscious forearms yet again.

She pursed her lips. This was like Master Alaric’s lessons. He favored the Socratic method, believing his job was to guide his students as they pulled knowledge from within themselves. She told him her education would go faster if he gave her the answers.

Today she saw the wisdom in his tactics.

“If there’s a barrier on Grimroot Farm but it doesn’t keep people out . . .” She covered her mouth as the realization dawned. “It keeps you in. That’s why you don’t go into Harvest Hollow proper. Why? Are you a criminal?”