“Of course!” Annie said, setting down her drink. “Let’s go.”
Jesse had asked for a dance the minute she said she was going to the ball. The band played a fast, boogie-worthy number and Jesse proved he’d been practicing. Annie was breathless and laughing as the music ended. Within seconds the band segued into a slower pace and Jesse headed off to ask a classmate to dance.
Grinning over the whole exchange, Annie did a little boogie step. Yule was such a blast. She was about to step off the dance floor when Reyn called her name.
“Annie? Can I have this dance?”
Her breath caught so she couldn’t speak, but she managed to nod. Reyn swept her into his arms. They danced through that song, and the next. Her grandfather claimed her for a dance, and gave her a kiss sweetened with peppermint, before leading her Grandmother out onto the dance floor. She got one more dance out of Grandpa Frank before they called it a night. At seventy-nine and seventy-seven, her grandparents claimed they were too old for all the shenanigans of the Yule Ball.
“You enjoy yourself, honey,” Grandpa Frank had said, kissing her cheek. “Your Grandma and I are going home to drink champagne.” He winked. “You never know, I might get lucky!”
She pretended to be shocked, but kissed them both. To her delight, they paused under the mistletoe bundle that had caught her and Reyn, that very morning.
“Isn’t that your grandparents?” Reyn asked as he appeared at her side.
“Yeah.”
“They miss him at the middle school. Never been a principle as good as Mr. Boylston.”
“Oh, that’s nice.”
“Would you like something to eat,” Reyn asked. “Or can I claim you for another dance?”
Annie was only barely aware of the passing of time. She was so mesmerized by the smooth fun of dancing, over and over again, with Reyn. Because she was distracted, she barely saw the robed members of the summer king and queen’s court as they took up positions on the mezzanine.
“Oyez! Oyez! Oyez! All hail the Summer King! All hail the Summer Queen!”
The music came to a crescendo and stopped.
“The Summer King!” everyone called, and there was laughter and cheering. “The Summer Queen! The Summer court!”
Someone whistled and the room broke into applause as the cheerfully robed and crowned group reached into baskets to gather green holly leaves, tied in bundles with mistletoe. The summer king and queen would choose the winter king and queen, and their court. Annie enjoyed the pageantry, but the holidays were so busy for her shop that she really hadn’t paid too much attention to the rituals at the Yule Ball.
The winter king raised his sword and his court tossed the holly leaves upward. Magick sparkled in the air, and charged through the room.
“Here we go,” Reyn said, and, for a wonder, he pulled her closer, rather than stepping away.
The bundles of green flew around the room, swirling in big circles in the air. The greenery would pause for a second over a couple’s head until they kissed, then dash off, like a happy puppy to pause elsewhere.
Annie was laughing too until she looked up and noticed a huge swath of green mistletoe and holly swirling over her head and Reyn’s as well.
“Caught again,” he said, but this time he was smiling. He bent his head to capture her lips. The zing was unmistakable. Heat flooded through her and magick zipped and zapped and whirled around them. Annie had never, ever been kissed like this.
“The Winter King! The Winter Queen!”
Reyn broke off the kiss and looked down, shocked. He’d kissed Annie again. The first time had been unexpectedly great. But this second time had scrambled his brain. Where had that feeling come from? Where had Annie come from?
He didn’t realize that the whole group of Yule Ball revelers were surrounding them.
“Woohooo!” a voice cried in his ear. His best friend, Stan Laughtner grabbed him from behind. “Way to go, Reyn! You’re the Oak King, the King of Winter!”
“Whoa! What? No,” Reyn said. What the hell? “I can’t do that. I can’t be the winter king.” He looked up, noticing that all the greenery had coalesced into a ring above his and Annie’s heads.
Then he looked down. Annie looked stricken.
“What? What is it?”
“You don’t want to be winter king?” she said faintly.
Shit. If she was winter queen, he was as much as saying he didn’t want to be with her.
“That’s not what I meant,” he said as people swooped down on them. Her expression didn’t lighten. He couldn’t leave her thinking he didn’t like her.
“The winter king!” people cried, and someone pushed him into a chair. Before he could get up and follow Annie, the chair was lifted high and he had to worry about staying in it as he was carried around the room.
They let him down after one circuit, but now Annie was in the chair––more of a throne, really––being paraded around. She was smiling, but she was still upset. It showed in her eyes and in the frown lines that creased her brow.
“Come on up here,” Jim Stansfield, the summer king, said, leading him up the stairs. Estelle Hestworth, her son, Pere Hestworth, Lucille Birkland and Winona Aylesworth were waiting at the top of the massive steps. When he stopped, it was next to Winona, and she laughed and pointed upward.
Mistletoe.
“A peck on the cheek will do, young man,” Winona said, presenting her cheek. He kissed her and she kissed his cheek in return. “There now, tradition’s preserved, as is luck. We need all we can get.”
Annie was ushered up the steps as well, and duly kissed by Jim under the mistletoe. Reyn noticed that Annie turned so that her kiss too, was just a peck on the cheek. His mood improved, marginally. He didn’t want anyone to kiss Annie but him.
When had that happened?
Winona, as head of the Yule Ball committee, stepped to the railing. The words she spoke were done with a smile, but even though he had no substantial magick himself, Reyn felt the magickal weight of every syllable.
“The Winter King is found. The Winter Queen has appeared. The year is turning! The Light is reborn. Celebrate one and all!”
“The court!” the crowd chanted.
Winona drew Reyn and Annie forward, along with Jim and his summer queen, sixty-year-old Beryl Chambers. The six members of the summer king’s court climbed the stairs to stand behind them. Young and old, they held baskets filled with big, gilded oak leaves.
Winona motioned the basket-bearers forward. She made three passes over the baskets with her hands, saying, “The Winter Oak King calls his court, the Winter Queen calls her court mark these now by our tradition and by our will!”
She smiled at Annie and Reyn. “Now, you join hands and touch each basket and repeat after me. I am the Oak King, the Winter King, I am the Winter Queen. I call you to be my court.”
Reyn took Annie’s hand. It felt so small in his. And cold. They repeated the words and as they did, the felt like they’d been charged with electricity. The feel of the magick set his nerves a-tingle. He’d always been able to feel it, but his only inherent magick was his affinity for fire. Annie gasped, however, evidently seeing something he didn’t.
“They glow!” she whispered, her eyes alight as Winona took the baskets. Swirling them around three times, Winona moved back to the railing.
“The winter court is called!”
Out poured the leaves, and they swirled through the air. This time, however, they broke into six little whirlwinds and plastered themselves against six disparate people. One was a thirteen-year-old, attending the Yule Ball for the first time. Another was Annie’s friend, Patty Kaylor. There was an elderly gentleman and a tall, gangly teen. The last pair was a couple, who looked thunderstruck to have been chosen.
“The court!” called the crowd, and the designated people were ushered into the company standing on the mezzanine.
“Thank you, witches all! We’ll return, so let the revelry continue!”
T
he band struck up another bright, happy dance tune. Winona turned to beam at Reyn, Annie and the rest of the group. “Okay, everyone, let’s head to the smaller ballroom, next to the coatroom!” Winona somehow managed to make herself heard over the noise that now rose from below.
Reyn scooted through the group to put his hand on Annie’s back. She shot a look at him that made him want to check his own back for daggers.
Shit. He’d messed this one up. He slowed, bringing her to a stop with him.
“I didn’t mean I didn’t want to be with you,” he said, knowing he’d only have a moment to explain before Winona dragged them all into the smaller ballroom. “I just don’t have time to do this. As the fire chief, I never know when I’ll be called out.”
She didn’t look convinced.
“Seriously, Annie. I want to ask you out.”
“What?” She seemed surprised. That wasn’t good.
“Yeah, on a date. I was going to do that when we were dancing. But then this…” he trailed off, gesturing toward the others, to indicate the whole mess of being picked as the king. What the hell did he know about any of this? He barely managed a coven meeting a year, much less being picked king of Yule.
“A date?”
“If you wanted to go, yes.”
Before Annie could answer, Winona poked her head back around the doorframe. Her scowl was fierce. “Don’t dillydally, you two. We have a lot to cover in a short time.” She hustled over, taking them each by the arm and all but frog-marching them to the meeting room.
“Now, let’s get you robed and talk about scheduling.”
“Winona,” Reyn began, knowing he had to put his foot down and put a stop to this right now. “I can’t do this. I have a job to––”
She cut him off with a gesture. “We have provisions for this, son. You don’t think the magick’s chosen busy people before? Important people? It has. We figure it out. Every time. So quit making excuses for not wanting to be in the spotlight, and go get measured for the winter king’s robes.”
“Oh, hell.”
Annie was led across the room to another pair of people who were pulling an impressive robe out of a garment bag.
“Here we are,” said a man at his elbow. “Last year’s king was a good deal shorter, so we made that robe special. This is the older, more usual one.” The vaguely familiar man held out an elaborate robe with oak leaves, ivy and mistletoe embroidered all over it. Around the hem was a procession of images showing the months of the winter king’s reign. Reyn pulled it on as directed, and again felt the distinct tingle of magick.
“Bend down,” Winona ordered as she strode over. When he complied, she put a simple circlet on his head, pressing it down slightly so it rested on his forehead. The crown itself was covered in hand-cast and enameled oak leaves that alternated golden-brown and green, with gems of the same tones in between the leaves.
Until the cloak settled on his shoulders and the crown on his brow, Reyn had been determined to fight it. Once they were on, however, the sense of magick and of rightness were so intense, he knew he didn’t stand a chance of bucking them.
Winona turned him slightly by grasping the edges of the cloak. “There now,” she said, folding back one side so that it was tossed over his shoulder. “You’re left handed, so you need the king’s sword on this side.” She buckled on a belt with a scabbard that held a carved wooden blade.
“Follow me,” Winona said, and gave him a tug.
That’s when he saw Annie. The bronze dress she’d worn to the Ball had looked fabulous on her. She’d glowed. That was the only way he knew to describe it. The glow, paired with the golden-sun-yellow of the winter queen’s cloak, brought her quiet beauty to the fore.
“You two, stand here,” Winona commanded. To him, she hissed, “and no protests out of you. I’ve spoken to the mayor and the council. You’re it and no arguing. They’ve already approved overtime for Assistant Chief Hamm and others to cover for you.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said, knowing when he was beaten. He turned to Annie. “My lady,” he said formally, bowing to her as he figured a king should before his elegant queen. “May I offer you my arm?”
Finally, she smiled. A real one that crinkled her eyes and made his heart beat a little faster. “Why thank you, sir king.”
“Yes, yes, very good,” Winona said, smiling now. She stepped up onto a chair. “Okay, here’s how it goes, people. One by one, you’ll come up and touch the king’s sword, which he’ll have lying across his palms, and which the winter queen will be touching as well. You swear to help protect the town. All through this week, you get to wear these nifty cloaks and join the king and queen in doing stuff. You’ll go throughout town asking people to promise to protect Haven Harbor. Getting those pledges of protection are vital. The power of the people’s pledges are woven into the wards that keep the town safe.”
There was some muttering and Winona rolled her eyes. “Yes, I know it sounds very arcane and witchy. I don’t make the traditions, I just serve them. Go figure, as the kids would say.”
There was a great deal of chuckling over that as the court swore fealty to the king and queen and made the first pledge to protect the town from evil.
“Great. Well done,” Winona said. “Okay, next bit of info. The kings and queens of summer and winter will serve together through Yule Eve when we light the Yule log in the cauldron in the town square. On Christmas Eve, all the power will go to the wards and the winter king, that’s Reyn here, and the winter queen, Annie,” she said pointing to the two of them. “They’ll be invested with the keys to the wards, and will keep asking for the protection pledges until New Year’s Eve.”
Winona turned to Annie and Reyn. “These ten days are really important, but the bulk of what you have to do as king and queen take place between now and Christmas. We have to fuel the wards during the major seasonal transitions. Jim and Beryl will help you until Christmas Eve, as will your courts. Got it?”
“Most of it,” Reyn said, and Annie nodded. “You’ll tell us more?”
“Yep. Tomorrow. For tonight, though, it’s a party.”
“Okay,” Annie said, answering for both of them.
Winona nodded, turning back to the group. “Now, we’ll present you to the Yule revelers,” Winona continued. “You wear the cloaks and crowns and mix and mingle all you want. Just don’t get too hungover because I need all of you at the Main Haven Harbor Coven meeting house tomorrow morning at ten a.m. sharp.”
She clapped her hands. “Let’s go, people! I’m hungry, and I’m sure you are too,” she said, adding, “And I want to dance with my nephew!”
There was general laughter and Winona lined them up. The other couple first, with their court, then Reyn and Annie and their court.
“Annie,” Reyn whispered.
“What?”
“Want to go to dinner tomorrow night?
A YULE TO REMEMBER
CHAPTER THREE
The Yule Ball passed in a blur. For Annie, being the center of so much attention, from congratulations to outright envy, was a totally new experience. Moira and Patty were among the first with congratulations, and offers of help in the store if she needed it.
“Hey, don’t worry,” Patty said. “I’ve got lots of vacation days that I have to use before the end of the year. I’ll help out in the shop when you have to do queen things. Besides, since I’m in the court––and how cool is that, by the way?––I’m obligated to help anyway.”
Annie gaped. “Shit, I have to do queen things. How am I going to manage that and winter market?”
“With help, silly.”
“But…..” Annie’s mind hit overload. She hadn’t paid much attention to the kings, queens, court and all that. She’d always assumed it was a popularity contest, like the prom. She’d never been popular, or won anything.
“What the heck am I supposed to do with my classes much less the winter market?” Annie said, feeling panicky. Now she understood why Reyn had immediat
ely said no way. Maybe it hadn’t been personal.
That thought stopped her. Maybe the kisses hadn’t been personal either. She sighed just as quickly over that realization.
The way he’d kissed her though… That had been a serious Wow! moment for her. But maybe he didn’t mean anything by it. Just a guy kissing a girl. Annie had learned a lot from having a beautiful, talented sister, however. Hot guys didn’t date women like her, not unless they were on the rebound or wanted someone easygoing to just hang out with. Or sleep with.
Then again, he had asked her for a date…
Someone cleared their throat and Annie turned. There he was. Reyn’s oak-crown was askew, but the angle made him look rakish rather than ridiculous. The robe too, seemed more stately and suave than silly. Her own cloak was gorgeous. She hoped she looked as good in hers as he did in his. How did the coven tailors do that?
“My queen, may I have this dance?”
Delight coursed through her. She was the winter queen. Determination rose within her. She was determined to work the whole experience to the fullest. Maybe, just maybe, it would be the start of something interesting. The shooting star heralded change. Maybe this was it.
Offering him a big smile, Annie placed her hand in his. “You may, O king of the winter oaks.” He grinned back and then they were off, dancing around the ballroom in a whirl.
“So did you know about this in advance?” she asked in a quieter moment, as the song changed.
“Me? Hel-heck no. I don’t think anyone does.”
“Really? That’s true then?” She told him what she’d thought, about it being a popularity contest.
He laughed. “Yep, totally random. Like the time Mr. Myerson was king. I don’t think you could find a more sour, dour New England skinflint if you tried. He wouldn’t have been anyone’s popular choice.”
“Then how do they do it? How do they choose?”
“The magick chooses,” a voice said to their left. It was Pere Hestworth, dancing by with his fiancée, Witches Walk director, Mari Beecham. “It always chooses who we need, when we need them.” He stopped briefly by their side as he said it, but the music picked up again, he and Mari danced away.
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