Page 5 of Hallow Hill at Halloween: Part One

“I’ll never tell,” I said.

“She’s forty-six.” Evie didn’t hesitate to out me.

I looked at her like she’d gone mad.

“FORTY-SIX!” Esme exclaimed loud enough for half the room to hear. “You don’t mean forty-six in, like, humanyears!”

“I do mean that,” Evie said.

“Well,” Esme said, “you certainly hit the fast forward on maturity. When I was forty-six, I had no interest in anything of a serious nature.”

“I’m not fae,” I said drily.

Keir arrived just in time to save the conversation. “What did I miss?”

“Evie blabbing my age,” I said sourly.

“Why do you care?” Keir asked.

The question was so innocent, so complete it its lack of understanding, that it could only have been voiced by a beautiful immortal whose appearance was frozen in time.

I smiled. There was no point trying to explain. So, I lied. “I don’t. I’m having dessert.”

“Well, I know. You have desserteveryday,” he teased.

“I do not! Take that back.” I pounded the table playfully. “Never mind. Say it all you want. Now that I have magistrate metabolism perks, I’ll say it myself. I eat dessert every day and am proud of it.”

Lochlan piped up. “Well, if it’s dessert we’re interested in, then let us commence with the next stage of the ritual.”

“Ritual?” I asked, suppressing images of human sacrifice.

“He means your birthday,” Keir supplied.

“Oh.”

“Yes,” Lochlan said. “In fact, many of us are quite taken with the idea of celebrating annual revolutions of the sun. It may become a thing.”

“Glad to be of service.” I bowed my head but looked up quickly when the kitchen door flew open.

Jeff was pushing the biggest cake I ever saw on a cart that looked like it had been designed for that very purpose. The cake was a marvel of engineering at five layers and so decoratively stunning that it would win everyGreat British Bake Off. It was mostly green fondant featuring patterns of trailing ivy circling and spiraling. But the piece de resistance, obviously conceived by Lily, were the masses of fresh flowers arranged around each tier. Here and there tiny pillars rose above the flowers supporting birthday candles that were my favorite color of sapphire blue. It was breathtaking in a way that said it could only have been made by magic.

I was awestruck, mouth breathing, and fixated on the wonder before me, thinking it could not get any better, when it did. The little gold crown on top went flying when Ivy, in pixie form, burst upward like a rocket leaving a pixie dust trail. She was dressed exactly like Tinker Bell, from the little blonde bun on top of her head, to the handkerchief hem of her short, green costume, to her tiny elf shoes.

She was the living recreation of a fantasy, and what a sight she was darting here and there lighting candles, almost too quick for the human eye to follow. The torch would’ve had to be magic to remain lit.

As I watched, spellbound, I heard a silly, childish giggle and realized it came from me. Embarrassed, I looked at Keir. The gleam in his eye told me he was enjoying my pleasure immensely.

When all the candles were lit, I heard Diarmuid’s strong baritone voice begin to lead everybody in singing the traditional birthday song. Everyone had abandoned their tables and were crowded around the cake and honoree table.

Oh my!To my credit,I suppressed the urge to sentimental cry, but I think it would have been entirely understandable if I had.

I rose from my chair. “Thanks everybody. Um, so much. This is… Well…”

“Don’t pretend you’re speechless, Mom,” Evie said. “None of us are buying it.”

Evie’s quip got a shared laugh from all the people who know I’m never taxed for something to say.

“Well, okay, then.” I raised my glass of chardonnay and carefully waved it to indicate that I was addressing the room. “To all of you, my friends, family, and beloved community, you’re the best!”

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