Home > Midlife Mojo (Not Too Late #3)(5)

Midlife Mojo (Not Too Late #3)(5)
Author: Victoria Danann

“Yeah,” I said to her. “Life is full of grownup choices. Time to come back to the real world.”

A scoff forced its way out of my mouth when I replayed what I’d just said. It seemed that it hadn’t taken long for me to think of my fantastical magic world duties as the ‘real world’. Life is strange.

I looked up at the slight knock on my study door. Olivia had brought a painted wood tray with tea. It was a welcome sight.

“Thought you’d like a warmup, Magistrate. Your cheeks are still rosy from stomping around the moors with those beasts.”

Both dogs looked up when hearing themselves called ‘those beasts’.

“That’s so thoughtful of you, Liv.”

Honestly, how bad could things be if somebody else decorated my house for the holidays, started a fire in anticipation of me going to work, and brought me tea without being asked?

“Okay,” she said as she set the tray down next to the pile of briefs. She’d said okay to me so often that she was getting close to the American pronunciation. “Shall I close the door?”

“No. The ‘beasts’ can come and go as they please.”

She glanced their way, nodded, and withdrew without making a sound.

“Oh! Olivia?” She reappeared within seconds. “Are we hosting lunch today?”

“We are.”

“What are we having?”

“Szechuan beef with leeks on brown rice. And carrot cake with almonds for dessert.”

“I love your Szechuan beef.”

She no longer blushed at compliments, but she did look demure. “I know.”

“Who are we having?”

“Maggie, John David Weir, Lily, you, me, and the sephalian.”

I noticed that Olivia never called Keir by his name. She always referred to him as the sephalian.

“Did we get some more of that white ale he likes?”

“Delivered last evening.”

“Super good. Thank you.”

Olivia had long since given up the curtsy that turned into a slight bow. Now she expressed deference and acquiescence by lowering her eyelids for a couple of seconds.

Left alone again, having used my last excuse to put off getting down to business, I switched on the twin library lamps and took a seat. By the time I heard people arriving for lunch, I was deep into the details of a case that had caught my interest.

A surviving Fear Laith, perhaps the only one in existence, had been turning up in local reports in the Scottish Highlands. The Bureau had filed an application for guardianship, suggesting that the increasingly choking encroachment of human population had left the creature nowhere to hide. The Bureau proposed relocating the creature within faerie, where he or she would be safe and pose no threat to the magic world’s carefully guarded secrets.

A fae lord was irritated by a prophet’s prediction that involved his fortunes and sued for recantation.

That was the first file of the maybe stack, meaning that Lochlan would determine if there was time to include it on this court meet’s docket.

 

Lunch was a nice break although I must admit that my thoughts kept drifting back to aspects of some of the briefs I’d scanned. As soon as the last guest departed, I resettled myself at my library table and pulled the next brief from the top of the pile closest to me.

A family member of the Irish fae House of Bayune had been boar hunting in Finland with his older brothers. He stopped to admire the magnificence of the scenery and, while separated from his family, was taken into faerie by a dalliance of snow sprites.

I have gathered that fae are particularly susceptible to falling in love at first sight and, the more I hear about the ramifications of that, the happier I am that it rarely happens to humans.

One of the Finnish snow sprites had seen the boy and told her sisters that she would surely die if she couldn’t have him. Naturally, being fond of their sister and all, they conspired to help with the abduction. Political consequences didn’t figure into their plan.

The kid, whose name was Caesperic, happened to be a nephew of Maeve’s. Maeve sent a respectful, politely worded missive to Queen Ilmr, ruler of the northern tribes, requesting that she intervene and gain Caesperic’s release. Queen Ilmr replied that she magnanimously allowed Irish fae hunting privileges in Finland and had been glad to host them but would not use her office to intercede in matters of love.

When Maeve received and read the reply, the entirety of the Irish faerie mound shook like a Richter Scale level four earthquake. Her brother, the boy’s father, was just as livid, but not powerful enough to cause worlds to tremble.

The pretty parchment caught fire when Maeve threw it up into the air and was burned to ash by the time it floated to the stone floor. In my head I could see the Irish queen stomping out of the room, demanding to know Diarmuid’s whereabouts.

According to the summary in front of me, Maeve entreated Diarmuid to take up a Wild Hunt for the purpose of recovering Caesperic. Diarmuid not only recovered Caesperic, but snatched the lovelorn snow sprite, Eevi, as well.

When Queen Ilmr learned of this, she sent a missive to Maeve demanding Eevi’s return. When Maeve replied that she wouldn’t use her office to intercede in matters of love, it was Ilmr’s turn to pitch a regal fit.

Ilmr replied that it was not the same because her snow sprite would die in Ireland’s mild climate.

Maeve ignored her.

Rather than acting on her impulse to harness up the royal reindeer and go to war with the Irish, Ilmr was persuaded by the curia regina to set a civilized example and employ legal channels first.

Shortly after I’d heard Olivia leave for the day, Keir appeared at my study door.

I looked up. “Have you ever been boar hunting in Finland?”

“Can’t say that I have. I’m afraid my second nature might be overcome with excitment and facilitate the untimely extinction of a species.”

I could feel the lines between my brows. “I didn’t know that losing control of your second nature was a possibility.”

He chuckled. “It’s not. I’m joking. I don’t have time for pissant royal pastimes like boar hunting.” He rolled his eyes for good measure.

“That’s right. There’re far too many sports to be watched.”

With a good-natured laugh, he got me back on topic. “Why did you ask? About boar hunting.”

“It seems your mum is often in the middle of things.”

He sighed, shoved both hands in his pockets, and leaned against the door jamb. “What’s she done now?”

“Threatened to start a war with the Finnish fae.”

“Good gods. What over?”

“Do you know a kid named Caesperic?”

Keir’s eyes cast about for a couple of seconds like he was thinking it over. “Cousin?”

“Nephew.”

Keir nodded. I gave him the Cliff’s Notes version of the abduction and recovery that was coupled with another abduction.

“So, is that case making it to the Yuletide docket?”

My sarcastic snort said it all, but I added words anyway. “Cases that involve staving off wars always make the docket. It’s a rule.” I glanced back at the file. “I guess I should dig into this Wild Hunt thing and learn more about it. References keep coming up. The strange thing is that I get the sense that I’ve read about it, but don’t remember what I read.”

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