Page 85 of Wishing for a Werewolf
“I don’t know. Babybelle does fine with it.”
“Babybelle’s special because she’s your familiar.”
“She’s going to love that you said that.” I shoot him a grin. “But you’re right. Let’s play it safe and leave the goats in the pasture for now.”
I show Rune how to slice a bar of PSL soap into sample sizes and start wrapping the ones he makes with the pretty orange ribbon and tags. In no time at all, we have a sample platter filled.
Before we head back, he picks up a small dish and sweeps up all the little chunks that fall off the soap when you cut it. When I shoot him a questioning glance, he gives me a littlesmirk. “You’ll see.”
And I do. We reach the prize tables right as the pixies exit the maze. They swarm over the little chunks of soap, oohing at the scent. Before I know it, all the tiny pieces have disappeared, stashed away in their little blue-leaf clothing.
“Thank you,” I lean over to Rune and whisper. “It was a great idea to have something for them too.”
His pleased smile warms my chest.
The wood nymphs emerge and head straight for the candy corn, ripping open the packets and pouring the entire contents into their mouths in one go. Note to self: wood nymphs totally have a thing for sugar.
As do the gnomes! They front flip from the exit and gobble down the orange candy before diving into the ground, leaving little grass clumps behind.
The shadow fae come last, arrowing in on the soap table to smell each type.
Severin and the others talk among themselves with all the solemnity of wine enthusiasts discussing a new vintage. Excitement skitters along my nerves when they all choose my homemade PSL soap.
“See, Rune, I knew you could do it,” Hannah says. “Your soap is a hit.”
“What?” I gape at my bestie.
A huge hand grips my shoulder in a comforting squeeze. “The wish swap spell.”
“I know, it’s just… startling coming from her,” I whisper. She’s listened to me talk about making soap for effingyears. Hell, last fall, I talked Hannah and Skye’s ears off when I kept tinkering with the pumpkin spice latte recipe trying toget it just right.
The sound of the first hayride arriving snaps us into motion. I give Hannah a hug goodbye and hear her also thank Rune for the hay maze instead of me. I know none of it’s on purpose, but I’m so effing ready to break the spell! Operation Wish Swap needs to hurry up and finish!
Later that evening, the last group of people exits the maze, and I want to bounce around like Babybelle. This is it! We’ve done it! We put on one of the best hay mazes in yearsandgot everyone in town interested in the farm again.
A family of three brings up the rear, the parents grabbing PSL soap samples, while the little boy chooses candy corn. Then he races over to the petting zoo, chubby arms shoved through the fence as Babybelle basks in his attention.
When his father tries to pull him away, he screams, “No!” It’s so piercingly high, Rune gives a visible wince.
The mother joins in. “Tommy, dear, don’t you want to take the fun hayride back to town? There will be horsies.”
“I don’t want horsies.” He stomps a tiny foot and makes grabby hands toward Babybelle. “I want a baby goat.”
“We can’t have a baby goat, honey. We don’t live on a farm.”
“I want one! I want one!”
Oh, boy, we’re headed straight for toddler meltdown territory.
When his mother tries to tug him away from the fence, the little boy yells the very thing I’ve been dreading for days: “I wish the baby goat was mine!”
Oh, god,no!
Magic sizzles through me like I stuck my finger in a light socket. Eyes clamped shut, I strain with everything I have, slowing the wish, drawing out its completion.
Not Babybelle! Even if the boy could take care of a goat—and the mother made it clear they so totally can’t—I can’t lose my familiar! I love her.
“No!” Babybelle yells. “I don’t want to leave you, Autumn! No!”
