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“Those aren’t mine.” I paused. “Well, not really. They sort of followed me from a crime scene. Not sure what to do with them.”
The motes pulsed around him like curious fireflies, and Beau’s frown deepened, but his focus returned to me. “A shelter for lost things. Interesting.”
Rude. But not inaccurate. “What are you? Fae? Reaper? Some sort of demigod?”
“None of the above.”
“Really?” I shifted, nudging Ivan behind me with a subtle press of my shoulder.
Beau snorted, a short, indignant burst of air. “My grandmother would char you, let the birds pick your bones clean, and string what’s left up as a windchime for that kind of insult.”
I put my hands up in front of me, “Sorry?” I said though not certain which accusation had been the insult. “Should I know your grandmother? Or be grateful she’s not here?” I glanced around the room. “Ah, she’s not here, right?”
Beau took a seat beside the raccoon.
Ivan tugged at my sleeve. I didn’t budge. The pastries on that tray might as well have been glowing with neon warning signs. Ivan huffed at me and retook his seat, opposite Beau. I hovered behind my brother like a shadow, wondering if I could pick him up and escape with him. Since I’d been mostly dead for a while, I hadn’t exactly maintained my weight training schedule, and Ivan was almost my size.
“She’s not, and yes to the prior,” Beau agreed.
“You can’t have my brother,” I said flatly.
Beau blinked at me, genuine confusion flickering across his features. “Huh?” He looked from me to Ivan and back again. “He came to me.”
“I did,” Ivan admitted, voice small.
That did not make anything better. Fae trap, changeling lure, demon snack bar, the possibilities were endless and none of them ended well.
“I’m not sure what this place is,” I said, keeping my tone level despite the panic clawing at my throat. “But we’ll just be going now.”
“We can’t.” Ivan’s words added weight to the rapidly growing lead in my gut.
“What? Why?” I scanned the room frantically, looking for a cage, a spell, a trap door, anything that explained why my brother was casually negotiating with a supernatural being in a fog-filled forest across the Veil.
“He’s my mentor.” Ivan waved his hands at Beau. “Gwen said the right teacher appears when the student is ready.” Ivan picked up another pastry, adding it to his plate. “Jude, meet Beau. Beau, meet my brother Jude. Don’t mind him,” Ivan apologized to Beau on my behalf. “He’s been grumpy since he died. I think it’s the lack of intimate time with his boyfriend.”
“Ivan.”
“Am I wrong?” He made a face. “Gross, but still. Am I wrong?”
I ignored him and focused on Beau. “Explain. From the beginning.”
Beau set down his teacup and folded his hands on the table. The raccoon mirrored the gesture, tiny paws clasped in front of him like a furry little butler. “Ivan found me through Gwen. She recognized his ability, the seeing, the thread of fate he carries, and knew he needed a teacher who understood root magic, not just weave magic.”
“Root magic,” I repeated.
“The magic of growing things. Of earth and bone and memory.” Beau gestured at the cottage around us. “This place exists between worlds. A sanctuary, if you will. Time moves differently here. And the tree protects those within it.”
I stared at him. “And you just... agreed to teach him?”
“I’ve been waiting for an apprentice for a long time.” Beau’s gaze slid to Ivan, something almost fond flickering there. “Gran made me promise to take one when the right student found me. I didn’t expect it to be a teenage shifter with more power than sense.” A pause. “But the universe has a sense of humor.”
“So you’re...” I trailed off, not sure how to finish the sentence.
“Root-keeper. Hedge witch. Grandson of Baba Yaga, legendary woman who eats children and fences her house with their bones.” Beau shrugged. “My title depends on who you ask. You can just call me Beau.”
“I’m not eating anyone,” Ivan added helpfully. “Beau says the bones part isn’t true. It was just a way for the patriarchy to villainize her.”
I opened my mouth. Closed it. Opened it again.
