Lost and Found: A Tale of the Tylwyth Teg

Chapter 8: Silver in the Trees

I called the number 'young' Doctor Tambini had given me and arranged for the Onigawara roof tiles to be installed in two weeks. Two weeks may seem a long time, but considering it's only two years after the pandemic, and the tiles are handmade, it's actually miraculous. I decided to browse more shops along Main Street. It didn't take long for my 'familiar' friend to show up. Eddie was perched atop the sign for Re-Create, a local thrift store.

I tossed him a few grapes that I'd put in a Ziplock snack bag, just in case. There were the usual clothes, used books, and assorted bric-a-brac. Just as I was about to leave, Eddie gave a loud squawk from outside. I was startled, and stepped backwards into a shelf unit, which swayed. Something fell to the floor that must have been concealed on the very top. I picked up the blocky item and offered to purchase whatever it was.

The older woman behind the counter looked for the price tag. Finding none, she laughed. "You must be the new resident that Fay at the bookstore was talking about. I'm Marigold. Welcome to Cambria. There's no price tag. Since it could have stayed up there for years, I'm thinking it fell today because it wanted to be found by you. Think of it as our house-warming gift!" She placed it in a bag and handed it to me with a flourish.

I applauded, and she handed me a flyer for the Cambria Center for the Arts theater production of A Midsummer Night's Dream. We talked for a while, and it turned out the Tambinis were also involved in the show. Our talk turned to fairies, and I mentioned that Anne loved to garden. A while later, I visited Spellbound Gifts & Garden, where I bought several packets of Fairies' Favorites flower seeds.

From there, again on Marigold's recommendation, I ate an Indian lamb curry burrito (you read that correctly) at Robin's Restaurant that was scrumptious and bought an entire two-layer lime pie to take home.

I stopped by Dr. Tambini's to thank Anna Lucia for her herbs. She was gracious, and flattered, and sent me on my way with a recipe book focused on herbal cookery and several pots of herbal cuttings and seedlings that were, in her words, virtually unkillable if left to their own devices. I'd jokingly told her on the last visit that both Anne and I had whatever the opposite of a 'green thumb' was called. She'd suggested 'deadly digits' and we'd both had a good laugh.

I asked after the elder dottore, but he was taking his afternoon nap. I told Frankie to tell his dad that I was looking forward to another game of Gwyddbwyll, and left him wearing a megawatt grin. In truth, last night I'd had dreams about the game...and the game pieces.

Eddie was waiting for me at house, perched on the mailbox. I tossed him the rest of the grapes, which he quickly began devouring. Once inside, I placed the pie in the fridge, the pots and cuttings on the kitchen counter, the package from Re-Create in the drawing room, and went upstairs to present Anne with the seed packets. Her office, however, was empty.

I looked out the door, and saw her, standing on Magritte's Terrace, looking out at the forest. Bertha's comment about their construction being 'a balancing act' was likely what made me imagine that the Terrace was unsteady. To say that I flew down one set of stairs and then up another would be understating my speed. When I saw her lean outwards, I swear I felt the whole staircase tilt, and I tackled her to the Terrace's floor.

"Lils, what are you doing?" she shouted.

"What am I doing? You were about the tilt the tower over, tossing both of us three stories down!"

"To quote our beloved Rachel Maddow, bull pucky!" She was furious, and also scared.

"What are you doing up here?" I demanded.

"I thought I saw someone in the woods."

"What did they look like?" I asked in my I-am-calm-but-don't-push-me voice.

"All I saw was a patch of silver, flashing past the trees..." she uttered, and became very quiet.

Of course, it was silver. She probably thought she had seen Gwyn. I started to think that maybe we could quickly sell this place, because no matter how much we both loved mysteries and sleuthing, having Anne lose her mind was not worth it. Then Eddie flapped silently between us and perched on the rail. Caught in his beak was a clump of molten silver hair. I took it from him, and found a single grape in my pocket, which I fed to him.

"Lils, this is where you're supposed to say something that shows me that I'm borderline crazy. Or that my imagination is getting the better of me. Or that I'm not making any sense. But you're quiet."

"Don't assume that means I'm NOT thinking those things," I said cautiously. "We're out of our depth here. You've said it – this means magic, and magic is more your area as a children's author. Logic and facts are mine, as a journalist. Here," I said, and handed her the package of Fairies' Favorites seeds, "I think we may need these."

She grabbed them, looking them over. "You bought these? Does this mean..."

"...it means that we're going to figure this out, solve the mystery, uncover its secrets, resolve unfinished business and bring happy endings to everyone involved! We've invested too much money and effort into making this a home for ourselves. I like this house. I like this town. You hear that, Gwyn? Gwyneth? Bertha? We're staying!"

Anne laughs. "Isn't it fitting that we'd choose an old house with history and its own issues?"

"Formerly owned by a bisexual single mother of possibly not-fully human twins?" I say, more jovial than I really felt, "When you put it that way, it sounds as if the house chose us, and not the other way around! Look – I really do like Cambria. We've made friends here. But I'm not going to lie – I am thoroughly creeped out. Jeez, we came close to being fried by lightning!"

"Let's get back inside," my warrior-woman wisely counseled. "Dinner needs to be heated up. And you can tell me about this plan you're obviously putting together – or should I say, throwing together?"

The pumpkin and sausage casserole was terrific, and the two-layer lime pie was a perfect tart counterpoint. Anne was ecstatic about the cuttings and the 'unkillable' herbs, and promised that she'd try most – if not all – of the recipes in the cookbook.

"You remember the woman from the bookstore – the one who gave us the diary?" I ask, while washing the dishes.

"You mean Fay Buynite?" Anne answers, thumbing through herbal recipes.

"I think we should invite her to brunch on Sunday. Get to know her a little better. She seemed like the sort of, ah..."

"...person who'd be interested in the arcane, and fairy lore, Welsh board games and all things that go bump in the night?" my oh-so-subtle partner suggested. "You can ask her yourself tomorrow, when I drag you to my first book-signing in San Luis Obispo County. Fay said "Sama Has Two Mommas" was a huge bestseller last year in her store. Of course, she also said it was Emily's favorite book to take her afternoon nap on..."

"I take it she's the store cat." I already like this woman, even more than before. "After Emily Dickinson?"

"The same. When you're done washing, how about we split another piece of that pie? I'll make some mint tea, and then it's your turn to read from Bertha's diary."