CHAPTER ONEA Year on the Bench
Haunting dreams and bless-ed things
Magic life and lions with wings
Trackers, strays, and birthday rings
Let us see what Samhain brings.
I loved fall and always welcomed the extended shadows, occasional surprise breezes, and cooler days and nights. But this year those changes heralded more than the onset of nature showing off breathtaking color.
It was also the first anniversary of my life in Hallow Hill.
I’d almost said “rebirth”, but decided that might seem hyperbolic. The difference in life before and after arrival in the tiny English village felt like a reincarnation. It was fitting because the ancient Gaelic festival of Samhain was the pagan new year. Fate has a way of weaving complicated connections together and making the result appear to be accidental.
In some ways it felt unbelievable that a year had passed since I, a mild-mannered, jilted insurance adjuster without a clue that there was more to reality than the KPAC evening news, arrived with nothing but a passport and a car worth a kingdom. In other ways, however, it seemed like this strange turn of fate had been my life for much, much longer.
The milestone was punctuated by Lochlan’s announcement on our morning walk.
“By the way,” he said, “my office has received a request to interview you.”
I laughed, assuming he was joking. When that elicited no response of any kind, I said, “Youarekidding me, right? Who would want to interview me?” After half a heart beat, I added, “And why?”
“That right there. Your lack of self-importance is, among other things, a curiosity in certain circles that follow court doings. You’re a person of interest, one might say.”
I huffed. “Person of interest! You mean I’m being watched because I’m suspected of being involved in a crime.”
With an exasperated scoff, Lochlan said, “No. No. No. I mean you’re, well, sort of a celebrity.”
I stared at him without looking where I was walking. Always a dumb thing to do in the hills. When I caught myself after threatening to trip on a stone that had probably been left untouched for two and a half billion years, I broke my gaze.
Lochlan caught me by the elbow. “Rita, do please try to stay upright. You’re alarming the hounds.” I looked over to where the four hounds streaked about in oblivious games of nip and dash. I was the last thing on their minds. “Are you in need of medical attention?”
I withdrew my elbow a little too quickly to be thought friendly. “I’m perfectly fine.”
“I’m not an authority on the physical needs of a mostly human person.”
“Thank you for being considerate, but I’m good. Really. I rarely need a fuss made over me.” Starting off again, I said, “Lochlan, I’m not sure that we mean the same thing by ‘celebrity’ any more than we mean the same thing by ‘person of interest’. Of course, magic folk know I’m sitting as the current magistrate. I don’t think that gives rise to the idea of celebrity though.”
“Hmm. Well. You have your followers.”
“Followers?”
“Notice I stopped short of saying ‘fans’ for the sake of the dignity of magic kind. But people are more interested in you than in magistrates past for a variety of reasons.”
“Such as?”
“Must we?”
I paused, trying to understand why Lochlan would hesitate to name the reasons. “I’m not fishing for compliments, if that’s what you’re thinking. I’m honestly mystified and have no clue.”
Following a deep sigh, intended to communicate that he was a creature of extraordinary forbearance and patience, he said, “People are interested in you because of your unique approach to your post, meaning that your rulings and supporting speeches are, um, unpredictable.”
I opened my mouth to protest, but he held up a hand as if to say, “You insisted that we go there, so now we’re going all the way and you will stay shut until I’m done.”
I closed my mouth.
“There’s also the fact that you’ve married a sephalion, are mother of the Irish queen and, I’m told, are somewhat attractive. For a human.”