Page 28 of Chasing Stripes

TWENTY-FOUR

The Council Chambers of Enchanted Falls looked nothing like Artemis expected. The council chambers occupied the top floor of Enchanted Falls’s oldest building—a stone structure predating the town’s official founding. Nine ornate thrones arranged in a semicircle faced a central speaking area, each seat representing one of the supernatural factions that governed the town.

The vaulted ceilings and ancient wooden beams hummed with centuries of accumulated magic. Enchanted crystals set into wall sconces illuminated elaborate tapestries depicting the town’s founding.

Nine chairs. Nine elders.

Artemis smoothed her skirt with slightly shaking hands as she stepped forward, the box of enchanted pastries in her arms wrapped carefully in a linen cloth stitched with protective runes. Beside her, Bartek moved like a silent storm—calm, poised, but ready to strike if provoked.

She wasn’t looking forward to this “integration meeting,” and she hoped they could talk about her concerns before leaving.

Tygra Fangcross, the tiger elder, sat closest to them, her golden eyes unreadable. Her long braid coiled over one shoulder like a snake at rest. Across from her, Selene Moonlace, the fae representative, offered a serene smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. The remaining council members looked on with varying degrees of curiosity and suspicion.

Ursula Stonepelt of the bears gave Artemis a nod of familiarity. Jinli Leonid, the lion elder, tapped a clawed finger against the table, clearly impatient. Draven Emberwylde, the dragon elder, leaned back in his obsidian chair with a flicker of smoke curling from one nostril, while Alaric Nightbourne, the vampire, looked as bored as only the undead could.

Willow Waters, the witch elder, sat closest to the enchanted pastries.

And Lysander Foxworthy, the fox shifter with a white streak in his auburn hair, offered a wry smile that hinted he already knew more than anyone else in the room.

“Thank you for attending this meeting,” Selene said gently nodding to both Artemis and Bartek. “We had wished to discuss integration matters, but we understand you’ve brought us troubling news, Artemis Honeywell.”

Artemis stepped forward, forcing her voice steady. “Three days ago, my family’s recipe book disappeared from Honeycrisp Bakery. At first, I assumed it had been misplaced during renovations. But I’ve since learned that it may have been intentionally taken by Thaddeus Dartmouth.”

That got their attention. Several council members straightened. Willow’s fingers paused over the box of pastries.

“The Honeywell book,” Selene murmured. “The heirloom your family has guarded for generations?”

“Yes,” Artemis confirmed. “And it’s not just a book of recipes. It contains magical records hidden among its pages—lineages, totem locations, weaknesses tied to bloodlines, maps of ley points, and old pacts. Things that could tip the balance of power in this town.”

Tygra’s gaze sharpened. “And you’re certain Thaddeus has it?”

Bartek spoke, his voice low but firm. “I sensed residual fae magic clinging to him. Artemis and her aunt confirmed it matched the book’s signature. He’s not just holding it—he’s interacting with it.”

Murmurs circled the table. Draven exhaled a puff of smoke. “If this is true, the implications are serious.”

Lysander Foxworthy arched a brow. “And yet... we have no hard evidence. No witness saw him take the book. Only hearsay and magical traces. Subtle things.”

“We have Pandora Hurley’s account,” Artemis countered. “She saw him studying the book and heard him speaking about leveraging it to shift power.”

“A nervous witch with floating spoons,” Alaric said dryly. “Not the most credible source.”

Willow Waters’s eyes narrowed. “Pandora’s abilities may be unstable, but her heart is loyal to the town.”

Selene held up a hand. “Please. We must consider this carefully.”

“Weareconsidering it,” Tygra said, tone clipped. “But charging into accusations without proof could damage more than reputations. Dartmouth is well-connected in the outer enclaves. He funds restoration projects, donates to magical preservation causes. He’s cultivated trust.”

“Trust doesn’t mean innocence,” Bartek growled.

“Nor does suspicion mean guilt,” Selene said gently. “We must maintain the stability of Enchanted Falls. If we confront Thaddeus openly, he’ll disappear before we get answers. If we interrogate him, we risk politicizing the council itself.”

Artemis stepped closer. “He already knows. He visited the bakery. He taunted us. He’s playing a long game. If we wait, it may be too late.”

Willow lifted the lid of the pastry box and took a glowing cinnamon roll, biting delicately. “You’ve outdone yourself, Artemis.”

Bartek exhaled a sharp breath through his nose.

Selene turned back to them, expression soft but firm. “We will begin a discreet investigation. Nothing official. No summons. But we will look into Mr. Dartmouth’s movements and associations.”

---