Page 48 of Fixing the Grumpy Pumpkin King
Finally.
Epilogue
December 20th
Thehouselookednormalagain.
No vines growing through the walls. No flowers blooming out of season in every corner. No autumn leaves perpetually drifting through rooms that should have been closed off from the wind. Jack had turned it all back before he left, restoring Seraphina’s home to its usual organized chaos, he had even cleaned and restocked the display shelves in the shop below with crystals and herbs and mysterious things in jars…well he had his familiars do it.
A day before winter’s official start, and Locke stood in his bedroom surrounded by half-packed bags, trying to figure out what exactly you brought when moving to a magical realm to become an immortal god.
“Clothes?” he muttered to himself. “Do I even need clothes? Will I have god clothes? Should I bring my toothbrush?”
“Definitely bring the toothbrush,” Rowan said from the doorway. “Immortal or not, nobody wants god breath.”
Locke threw a sock at him.
Downstairs, Seraphina Shadehaven hummed as she cleaned up her shop from the days customers, two weeks back from her “cruise” that Locke was now ninety percent sure had never actually been a cruise at all. As a matter of fact he had even confronted her about it just yesterday.
“Grandma,” Locke had sat on the step while she was closing up shop. “Did you actually go on a cruise?”
Seraphina appeared near the step, looking entirely too pleased with herself. Her blonde hair was pulled back, her hazel eyes sparkling with mischief that Locke recognized in his own mirror.
“Oh, I went on a cruise, darling. Just not the kind with shuffleboard.” She smiled.
"So it was some kinda witchy cruise? is that something you take your grimoire to?"
“A witch always has more than one, darling. And I needed to leave something here to spark my curious grandson's interest. Though I admit, I wasn’t expecting you to summon a harvest deity specifically. That was a delightful surprise.”
“You PLANNED this?”
“Not all of it. But I certainly nudged you in the right direction. I've always known you've had a great power within you, even if it did skip your mother.” She winked. “And I’m very proud of you. Becoming a god’s consort? That’s my boy.”
Now Locke zipped up his roller luggage, still feeling foolish for bring it but what else was he gonna bring. Rowan flipped through that very grimoire like an arch villain.
Grandma's hand shot out once she entered the living room, snatching it back. “Nice try.”
“Come on! I need it for research! Winter gods don’t just summon themselves!”
Seraphina pulled her grandson into a hug. “You’ll visit?”
“Of course I will. Rowan’s going to summon us back.”
“And if he doesn’t, I most certainly will.” She kissed his forehead. “I didn’t raise you to forget your grandmother.”
Locke held on tight, breathing in the familiar scent of her lavender sachets and incense. “Thank you. For everything. For the grimoire. For...for knowing what I needed even when I didn’t.”
“That’s what grandmothers do, darling.”
Rowan grabbed him next, pulling him into a crushing hug. “You better come back every year, or I’m coming to the Loam to drag your ass home.”
“I will. I promise.” Locke pulled back. "I guess I better go before this winter God shows up, if he shows up. I have no idea what the rules are."
"You will learn." Seraphina assured him. “Oh, the Loam is wonderful this time of year. I spent my early twenties there, you know. Wild times. All those satyrs...” She got a distant, fond look. “And the orgies were—“
“GRANDMA!”
“What? I was young once!”
