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“I promise.” Tempest pocketed the note and hugged her friend. She wasn’t going to miss seeing the ABCs, but she was going to miss seeing Priya every day.

“Where do you think you’ll go?” Priya asked.

“I don’t know. East, I guess?” Tempest laughed. She hadn’t thought about it. “There’s a bookshop in Boston that I’ve heard about for years. I’d love to visit.”

“The Mudpuddle!” Priya squealed. “In Primrose Court?”

“Yes, I think that’s what it’s called,” Tempest said. “Dan Wilder mentioned it in his acknowledgements.”

“I think that would be the dreamiest place to work,” Priya mused. “Next to Owl’s, of course.”

“Oh, I’m sure it’s better,” Tempest insisted. “Because the ABCs aren’t there.”

Priya nodded again, as if this answer was enough. Maybe it was. She put her hand on Tempest’s arm and gave a squeeze.

“How about you meet me there for Samhain?” Priya suggested.

“You know that’s my birthday?” Tempest tilted her head at her friend.

“Of course I do. I haven’t forgotten. And nobody should be alone for their birthday. Salem isn’t far from Primrose Court and if we make the plan now, we’ll both have something to look forward to.”

Priya held up a crooked pinky and waited, patiently, until Tempest raised her own pinky and linked it together with her friend’s.

“Pinky plan!” Priya announced. “Now we’re not running away anymore.”

“Not at all.” Tempest was suddenly so grateful to Priya for giving her something to shoot for, a direction, she was practically in tears. “We’re making plans!”

“And executing them.” Priya pulled her hand away and made finger guns, firing two pretend shots and blowing invisible smoke from her index fingers. She gathered Tempest into a tight squeeze of a hug. “Don’t think this means you don’t have to stay in touch while you’re traveling. I’m going to need at least two postcards per week. The weirder, the better. Show me all the weird produce and pop-up crochet museums.” She took a step back to look at Tempest, then gestured at the driver’s seat. “Go on now, git!”

Priya dropped her book into her tote bag and stepped back down into the alley. In the rearview mirror, Tempest could still see Priya standing there and watching. Tempest turned out onto the street and drove the bus off into the night.

Q: What is the difference between an ale and a lager?

A: Whereabouts in the liquid the yeast goes to work, and for how long.

Many are surprised to learn it’s not flavor or color, but biology that separates the two. Ales ferment warm and fast, using yeast that works at the top of the liquid. Lagers ferment cold and slow, using yeast that sinks to the bottom. A stout is an ale. So is an IPA, a porter, and a wheat beer. A pilsner is a lager. Arguments about which is superior have been ongoing since the fifteenth century and show no signs of resolution. The correct answer, for the record, is whichever one is in front of you.

—Dan Wilder, The Most Important Question: Fanciful Trivia by Dandelion Wilder

EIGHT

CONTINGENCY PLANS

Arthur Hart, Maida Westabrook’s fiancé, was already sitting at the table in the cafe’s round reading nook when Dan came downstairs the morning after the fire. The stag shifter had a freshly brewed carafe of strong coffee and a croissant sitting in front of him. His briefcase was laid open on the seat beside him. He set down his fountain pen and refilled his mug. He blew on the hot liquid before taking a tentative sip and reviewing the notes on the yellow legal pad in front of him.

The Mudpuddle Bookshop’s Cafe smelled, as it did most mornings, like coffee and pastries mingling with ink and old paper. There was something so inherently comforting about this combination. When blended in such perfect proportions they worked the charm of convincing folk that no matter how bad it seemed right now, everything would be alright in the end.

Dan hadn’t felt that way when he woke up this morning. But now that he was standing here in the cafe, he could feel small bits of hope creeping in through the cracks.

“You working from home today? Mind if I join you?” Dan carried his coffee to Arthur’s table. He was hoping to ask Arthur for some legal advice. He needed help reviewing his contract with The Lucky Duck Trivia Company. He’d already committed to hosting the final tournament of the trivia season at what was to be his newly completed tavern. Dan was worried there would be penalties if he could no longer host the championship. The company had already paid a deposit for the Samhain event. And Dan had spent that deposit before the fire.

Arthur looked up when Dan sat down. He studied Dan’s face, assessing him before speaking.

“Oh, good. You look like you were able to get some sleep,” Arthur said.

“A bit,” Dan said. He’d catnapped, but most of the night had been spent poring over his situation, again and again, trying to come up with a plan to gather the cash he needed to make the repairs The Wildernest needed, on top of all the other renovation he was going to have to do for the second time, all before the Samhain opening and event he’d committed to.

“Better than nothing!” Arthur checked his T-watch. “I thought I’d work from here today. Will’s mission got pushed back and he had some urgent correspondence from the director that he wanted to bring to me. But of course, Will’s late.”