by Cate Dean
He liked it there, but this felt like home. Maybe someday—
“Woolgathering, sport?” Spence smiled at him when he lifted his head, and realized they stood in front of the house. “Let’s head inside. I’ve got some leftover chicken stew. Aunt Irene’s recipe,” he said, smiling at Mum.
“With dumplings?”
“How else would I make it?”
She laughed, and took Kit’s hand as they walked up to the porch. Once they stepped inside, she stopped and studied him, her blue eyes serious.
“I want you to promise me you won’t go hunting for mysteries to solve.”
His heart skipped. “Mum—”
“I’m not talking about archaeological mysteries. I mean the kind that come with living, breathing villains.” She let out a shaky breath and pulled him into a fast, tight hug. “I can’t go through what happened today again. Do you understand, Kit? I was terrified—and I can’t feel that way again.”
“Okay, Mum. I promise,” he said, when she raised her eyebrows.
“Good. Go wash your hands, and we’ll eat.”
She left him in the entry, and he turned to the downstairs bathroom, skidding to a halt when Anthea appeared in front of him, her hands clasped at her waist.
“Welcome home, young master.”
“Anthea.” She had never spoken to him before—had she? “Um—how are you?”
A smile crossed her face. “I am well, now that you and Mistress Maggie are home.”
“We’re not—I mean—”
“Not staying?” She tilted her head, studying him. “The time has not come for you to return home, young master. You will know when you are needed here. When your skill for solving puzzles becomes vital to saving the life of one you love.”
She disappeared before Kit could recover enough to ask what she meant.
He headed to the bathroom, his thoughts spinning.
As much as he wanted to keep his promise to Mum, he had a feeling he would be pulled into a situation where that may not be possible.
“Kit!”
He shouted over the running water. “Coming!”
For now, he planned to eat enough chicken stew to satisfy him until his next visit, and talk Mum into staying a little longer, so he could thoroughly explore Spencer’s new office. On the way home, he would convince her to tell the story of the silver cup Spencer had given him.
Smiling, his goals set, he ran out of the bathroom and down the long hall to the kitchen.
He had some creative arguments to make.
~ * ~
Thank you for joining Kit on his first adventure! He returns in The Witch’s Cup, his first full-fledged mystery. Want to know when my next book will be out? Sign up to be on my list:
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I’ll leave you with an excerpt from The Witch’s Cup. Enjoy!
Excerpt from The Witch’s Cup
After Kit devoured his shepherd’s pie, he sat back and tried not to look impatient as he waited for Spencer to finish.
“Anxious, sport?” Spencer grinned over his sandwich—the first half of his sandwich. He still had another half, and his chips. “I’ll have them wrap up the rest, then you can help me with an idea I have for another exhibit.”
“You want me—I—yes. Yes, yes, yes!” He hunched in his chair when he realized he had shouted the last yes, and everyone in the café was staring at him. “Sorry.” Heat flushed his cheeks, embarrassing him more. “Sorry, Spencer.”
“I’m as excited as you, Kit.” He leaned in. “I wouldn’t be able to get away with that enthusiasm in public. Too old.” He winked, and Kit laughed, some of his embarrassment fading.
“Thanks, Spencer.”
“Let me get this for takeaway, and we’ll head back.” Spencer stood and picked up his plate, heading over to the counter.
Kit wiped his mouth, then his hands, doing his best not to draw more attention. His newly acquired height did not help; he had gained four inches in the last few months, and still tripped over his feet at the most inconvenient times.
He made his way over to Spencer, in time to see the waitress hand over a takeaway bag.
“Ready to go.” He smiled at Kit, waving the bag. “I got a snack for later. I figured you might be hungry in a couple of hours.”
An hour would be closer to the truth. Lately, Kit couldn’t get enough to eat. Probably from his growth spurt.
They headed outside, and across the square at the bottom of the high street. The museum stood at the base of the square, its white façade bright in the early afternoon sun. Kit loved it here, missed it when he was back in York.
As much as he liked his school, and his friends, York had never felt like home. To him, Holmestead would always mean home.
“Spencer?”
“Hmmm?”
“What is the new exhibit?”
“You know about Dell, right?”
“A bit.” Mum refused to tell him about the haunted village, and what little he found online had been disappointing.
“I had an exhibit years ago, after publishing a book about the scrolls your mum and I found there. Now I—”
“Wait, what?” Kit grabbed his arm, stopping him. “Mum has been to Dell?”
“She hasn’t told you? I thought she would after I gave you the cup. Oops.” Spencer took a deep breath, then kept moving, walking faster. “Not a word of this to her, all right? She will have my head on a silver platter if she finds out I told you anything she didn’t want you to know.”
“I promise—as long as you tell me everything.”
Spencer raised an eyebrow. “Extortion?”
“Desperation. Mum refuses to tell me a thing. I know the cup you gave me belonged to a witch who died there, but I haven’t found much beyond that. Except for your book, which I also had to hide from Mum, so she wouldn’t take it away. I checked it out from the library after our copy disappeared.”
“That book is all about Anya, and the scrolls, but not about the real secret of Dell. Your mum wasn’t much older then you when we explored the village—come with me.” Spencer took Kit’s arm and led him around the back of the museum. “There’s one room without cameras, for opening sensitive material. We can talk there—no incriminating video footage to condemn me later.”
Kit wanted to jump up and down; instead, he followed Spencer to the loading dock, down the hall holding the storage rooms, stopping in front of a door tucked in a small alcove. After unlocking the door, Spencer pulled him inside and locked it behind them, then turned on the overhead lights.
“Take a seat, Kit.” Spencer waved at the table in the middle of the room—a table covered with artifacts Kit had never seen before. “I’ve collected these since my first visit to Dell. Some have been seen by the public, but most are recent acquisitions.” He leaned on the table and smiled at Kit. “From a nearby dig.”
~ * ~
About The Author
Cate Dean has been writing since she could hold a pen in her hand and put more than two words together on paper.
She grew up losing herself in fantasy worlds, and now creates her own worlds, infusing them with adventure and magic.
When she's not writing, she travels to places that inspire her, having her own adventures, and reads pretty much anything she can get her hands on.
There – I got the official biography out of the way. I love to write, and yes, I have been doing it most of my life. I've made up stories in my head for as long as I can remember, and I am thrilled to be able to bring those stories to life, and share them with you.
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