The Curious Curse of Faerywood Falls Read online

  The Curious Curse of Faerywood Falls

  Blythe Baker

  Copyright © 2019 by Blythe Baker

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Description

  Newsletter Invitation

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Excerpt

  About the Author

  In Faerywood Falls, being Gifted is a curse ...

  After finishing a recent murder investigation, Marianne hopes she’s bought a little time to delve into secrets closer to home. But that possibility is shattered the night she finds herself witness to a terrible crime.

  Now, Marianne must go up against a powerful spell weaver – while mastering a new ability to communicate with the dead. To make matters worse, a vengeful ghost dredges up the past, and an attractive vampire makes a reappearance.

  With a certain werewolf seeming determined to conceal the truth, Marianne will have to dig deep if she wants to outwit everyone who’s trying to bury the past.

  Want to receive free mystery ebooks and other goodies? CLICK HERE and join Blythe Baker’s newsletter for readers!

  1

  The air was growing warmer as the days passed. Spring was slowly giving way to summer. The days were longer, and the heat lingered longer in the air. The grass was thick on the ground, and the leaves were brilliant shades of brightest green.

  I’d been in Faerywood Falls for some weeks now. Almost six, if my calendar was right. I was settled into my cabin. I knew I was settled because my sink was often filled with dishes and a layer of dust was starting to accumulate on my picture frames and the top of the small bookshelf I’d brought home from the antique shop one afternoon. It was a good reminder to get back on a cleaning routine.

  I found myself longing to sit out on the tiny front porch of the lakeside cabin I’d taken residence in. I never thought I’d like living in such a small space, but the reality was it was perfect for one person. And since I spent a lot of time working at the antique shop or hanging out up at the lodge with my aunt and cousin, I didn’t need a ton of space.

  My fox companion. Athena, on the other hand, would beg to differ. What she wanted more than anything were more windows to let the sunlight in. On my days off, she’d stretch out, making herself as long as she could, exposing her belly to the warm light. I’d asked if she wanted me to get her a bed that was just her size to sleep in, but she refused. She’d much rather curl up at the foot of my bed with me. She said it was because human beds were more comfortable, and I would just smile, knowing that what she really liked was being near me and sharing in some body heat.

  She was good at staying out of sight. People might question why I kept a fox as a pet, especially those who had no idea about the magical gifts that gave me the ability to actually speak with her. The gift wasn’t mine, originally. I’d accidentally stolen it from some kind-faced woman working at a gas station on the outskirts of town. That was what I could do as a faery: borrow the powers of others.

  It was another thing not a lot of people knew about me. Until I moved to Faerywood Falls, I’d had no idea, either. I was the first faery born in these parts in a long, long time. Those who were Gifted, or possessed some kind of magical or mystical powers, would likely vie for my support if they were to find out. That, or they’d try to take advantage of my abilities, most of which I hardly understood how to use yet. In a lot of ways, I was still trying to come to terms with the truth of my existence. All I knew was that my adopted mother found me just outside the forest when I was an infant. Nothing was known about me or my biological family aside from a letter left with me in my basket; it warned anyone who found me not to take me away from Faerywood Falls, or a curse would befall me.

  And it had. Until I had finally returned to this place again, where the magic in my blood called me.

  There were a lot of people who didn’t know that magic even existed in Faerywood Falls. People like Abe Cromwell, the man I worked for. His little antique shop was of great interest to many Gifted in the area, as sometimes magical items would pass through without his detection. The longer I worked there, the more I became convinced that they were the sole reason why his business hadn’t gone under. Those customers paid handsomely, telling old Abe that the pieces they sought were incredibly valuable. He never questioned it, and lived blissfully unaware of the magical abilities of those who passed in and out of his shop.

  Dr. Valerio was one such patron. As handsome as he was mysterious, he would come to the shop looking for various items twice a week, at least. His golden eyes were hard to look away from, and I couldn’t tell if it was because of my subtle attraction to him, or the fact that I knew he was, in fact, a werewolf, and the leader of all the lycanthropes in Faerywood Falls.

  Another frequent shopper was Cain Blackburn. He’d only ever been able to come on days when the shop was open past dark. The town believed the Blackburns to be a very wealthy family, whose riches were passed from one generation to the next. The truth was, however, that Cain Blackburn and the rest of his “family” were vampires and had been living in the same castle since arriving in the valley several centuries before.

  Faerywood Falls never failed to enchant me, and the more I learned about it, the more I’d grown to love it.

  It was one evening in early June that Dr. Valerio came in for yet another visit that week. He’d purchased a set of crystal decanters from Mr. Cromwell, three of them, and was waiting on a delivery of a fourth. He’d told me in private that they were almost four hundred years old and had been made with liquid moonlight. I wasn’t sure if he was being completely honest with me, but after everything I’d seen in my short time there, I wouldn’t have been surprised.

  After he was gone, the last two customers of the day also left the store, carrying their bags of very non-magical wooden bookends. They waved to me as the little bell over the door chimed at their departure.

  “Another day done, eh, Marianne?”

  I turned and saw Mr. Cromwell standing in the doorway up to his apartment above the store. He smiled at me, the wrinkles near his eyes prominent in the golden light of the setting sun.

  I returned his smile easily as I wiped down the back counter. “Yes, it is,” I said. “You’ll be pleased to hear that the Robinson’s came and purchased that 19th century table.”

  “They decided they wanted it after all?” Mr. Cromwell asked, hobbling into the store. It hurt my heart to see his limp getting worse. Aunt Candace had offered to take him to the doctor, but he refused every time. He knew it was age, and there was nothing to be done about that.

  Not for the first time, I wondered if the magical book that Silvia Griffin had stolen would have a spell in it to help him. If only I knew where the book actually was…

  “They also purchased the chairs with it, and that nice credenza we put out yesterday,” I said, checking the cash register.

  “Very good,” he said. “Are they coming by tomorrow to pick it up?”

  “That’s the plan,” I said.
<
br />   “I feel terrible that Dr. Valerio’s decanter hasn’t come in yet,” Mr. Cromwell said.

  “He said he understood and that he’d just swing by tomorrow after work to check again.”

  “He’s such a patient man,” Mr. Cromwell said. “We’re fortunate to have men like him and Mr. Blackburn residing in our small town.”

  “I think you’re right,” I said.

  Some of the hairs on my arms stood on end, but all in all, I did agree with him. They were interesting men, both in the human world and in the magical one. They had great influence. And while they didn’t always get along, I wanted to believe that they both had the best interests at heart for Faerywood Falls as a whole.

  “Well, you’ve been here a long time today,” Mr. Cromwell said. “I appreciate you coming in early to help me take inventory. With the summer upon us, we should expect more customers, and I just want to make sure we’re ready for them.”

  “Oh, don’t worry, we will be,” I said.

  “Very good,” he said with a smile. “Now, off you go. I’m sure you want to enjoy what little of today you have left.”

  “And you should get some rest, too, Mr. Cromwell,” I said. “Like you said, summer’s coming, and you should give yourself time to enjoy all that warm sun.”

  He grinned. “I do enjoy a good lie down in the sun…”

  I bid him goodbye from the back of my bike as I headed off into the darkening street. The sun had just dipped below the horizon and the sky above was painted in bright pinks and oranges and grays. I wanted to look up at the clouds more than the road ahead of me, but I promised myself a nice cup of tea while I sat on my porch, hoping that I’d get a chance to catch the last of the light as the day gave way to the starry night.

  My backpack rustled on my back, and as soon as we were out of sight of the shop, Athena appeared, shaking her tiny, copper head, her black nose sniffing the air frantically. Her lips parted and she began to pant in the warm evening air.

  I think we need to invest in a mesh backpack, she informed me. It’s starting to get a little warm in here.

  “I bet it is,” I said. “Alright, I’ll see if I can find anything online tonight. But we’ve gotta be smart. I don’t want Mr. Cromwell finding you.”

  Don’t worry so much, she said. I always hear him coming before he’s anywhere near us.

  We rode along for a while, cars passing by us on the road, their headlights banishing the shadows in their paths. The streetlights were flickering to life, their warm glow preparing for night’s long embrace.

  Downtown was quiet, which wasn’t a huge surprise in the middle of the week. The shops had all closed up for the night already and the only place that still had their lights on was the restaurant on the corner.

  “I think Mr. Cromwell’s right,” I said. “There are definitely more people around now.”

  Tourist season has begun, Athena said.

  We crested a hill, about two miles from the lake where our cabin was. A long stretch of fields ran alongside the road to our left. Beside us, a long wrought iron fence appeared behind a thick cluster of trees.

  We passed by it every day. The Faerywood Falls cemetery. It rested on a beautiful stretch of land, with rolling hills and large, full trees scattered throughout. Even from a distance, it was easy to see that many of the tombstones were old, especially those closest to the entrance. Some days, Athena and I liked to see what names we could glimpse through the fence.

  Not for the first time, I wondered if poor Burt Cassidy was buried in there. It hadn’t been all that long since I’d found out the truth about his murder, and yet, it felt like it happened ages ago. Life in Faerywood Falls had kind of gone back to some sense of normal…as normal as it ever was, most likely.

  So, what are we having for dinner tonight –

  Athena’s words were pushed from my mind when a scream, high pitched and terrified, echoed through the cemetery beside us.

  My hands yanked on the brakes, the tires skidding to a halt on the graveled sidewalk.

  “What was that?” I asked, my heart pounding in my ears.

  I don’t know, Athena said. Her front paws were perched on my shoulder, and her nose was pointed up into the air, sniffing madly.

  “Did it come from in there?” I asked, pointing through the wrought iron bars of the fence into the cemetery.

  I think it did.

  I swallowed hard, my throat tight. I spun my bike around and pointed it back toward the main entrance, which we’d passed a few moments before. “We should go see. Someone might need our help.”

  Shouldn’t we call someone for help instead? Athena asked. You don’t know what we could be walking into.

  But I ignored her as I put my feet on the pedals and made my way toward the gate.

  My ears strained as I turned my bike onto the dirt drive leading into the cemetery. Where had the scream come from?

  “Whoever it was, they sounded terrified,” I said as I pushed myself further and further into the darkening cemetery. There weren’t nearly as many lights in here, and all of the headstones cast long, eerie shadows across the patches of grass.

  Which is why I was warning you against coming in here in the first place, Athena said. We have no idea what could have frightened them so much.

  Her words made sense, but my legs kept pumping and my eyes kept scanning. I had no idea what sort of disconnect was happening in my brain, as I was terrified of what I might find, yet curiosity and determination kept pushing me onward. I had no idea where the courage came from, but I knew I couldn’t turn back now.

  We made a hard right turn. I was starting to lose faith that we’d ever find the screamer. It was getting darker by the minute, and the cemetery was huge. She could’ve been anywhere.

  “Maybe I should call Dr. Valerio…” I said. “He’d be able to get his wolves in here, right? They wouldn’t be afraid of the dark.”

  Dr. Valerio might have some sort of interest in you, but I don’t think he’d drop everything to come at your beck and call, Athena said.

  I sighed, squinting into the darkness. She was probably right, though I liked the idea of being able to pass something like this off to someone with a lot more power than I had.

  Then again, I supposed the police were only a phone call away, if necessary…

  There, Athena said. Something’s different on the air.

  I turned my bike in the direction her nose pointed, and headed between a row of tombstones.

  My tires bounced along on the uneven dirt, and I grimaced as I realized exactly what I was doing.

  “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” I said as we passed over grave after grave. I couldn’t imagine this was a good way to earn myself any friends in Faerywood Falls, especially among those who were able to talk to the ghosts.

  It was so dark that I stopped the bike, pulled out my phone, and turned on its flashlight. I continued on, following the narrow beam of light and Athena’s nose, bumping along through the dark.

  It’s close, Athena said. Slow down –

  But I’d already stopped the bike. Just at the end of the flashlight from my phone, the body of a young woman lay sprawled across the grass, her glassy, lifeless eyes staring right at me.

  2

  Flashing red and blue lights bounced off the headstones, creating a strange, pulsating effect across the cemetery.

  The thin, orange blanket they’d wrapped around my shoulder was called a shock blanket, and while I wasn’t exactly cold, it was nice to have something secure around me to hold onto.

  Athena had ducked back down inside my backpack and had been lying perfectly still as the sheriff’s car had pulled up, with an ambulance following closely after it. After I’d discovered the body and pulled myself together enough, I’d called for help and waited for the police and ambulance to arrive. Standing next to a dead body for that long had been unnerving, but I reminded myself that it wasn’t the first time.

  I wasn’t sure that was something I should be gratef
ul for, all things considered.

  I watched from off to the side as EMT’s lifted a stretcher into the air, carrying it carefully through the headstones. They’d covered the body atop the stretcher with a dark tarp.

  The dead woman’s arm hung limply over the side of the stretcher, bouncing slightly as they walked it toward the waiting ambulance.

  My stomach, twisted in knots, clenched even more at the thought of someone as young as I was dying out here alone in the dark like she had.

  Sheriff Joe Garland appeared around the side of the police car, his hands on his hips. I watched as he started toward me, removing his hat and rubbing the back of his neck, his balding head visible in the glow from his headlights.

  He sighed as he stopped in front of me. I could see sadness in his kind eyes. “You’re a very nice woman, Miss Huffler, but we really should stop meeting like this.” He gave me a sad smile as he pulled a tablet out from under his arm. “I’d much rather run into you at the grocery store, or at one of your aunt’s picnics.”

  “I know the feeling, Sheriff,” I said.

  He scratched his chin as he scanned his notes. “Alright. The name of the woman you found is Olivia Foster. She lived here in Faerywood Falls. Didn’t even have to look through the database; one of our EMT’s recognized her. Met her once or twice, apparently.”

  “She couldn’t have been much older than I am…” I said.

  “A few years, maybe,” he said with another heavy sigh. “Strange thing is that there were no signs of an outward injury, yet you said that you heard a scream?”