The Goblins of Bellwater

by Molly Ringle

  She told him she’d grown up mostly without a father, since the divorce had happened when she was so little, and he had moved so far away. He lived in New York now, and they were hardly in touch; just occasional awkward emails a few times a year.

  Grady told her he came from a big and affectionate family; he was the third of five siblings. His dad was a contractor, his mom a substitute teacher. Though she didn’t cook professionally, she was awesome at it, and Grady had originally learned to cook from her.

  Skye told him how she had been trying to get graphic design work last fall. Then, she texted, and her thumbs froze. It was all she could do to press send, and throw him that unfinished thought.

  Their gazes lifted from their phones, and met over the table again. “Then?” he asked.

  She made the same despairing gesture she had made to Livy on the front porch yesterday: the sweep up her whole body, ending with a toss of her hand in the direction of the woods. Frustration tightened her face.

  “Then you started feeling like this,” he said softly.

  She made one of her side-tilted half-nods. True but not the whole story. He’d learn the whole story before long.

  His blue eyes held hers, intent. “Was there something that happened to you?”

  Livy had asked, of course. Her therapist Morgan had asked. Everyone had asked. Every time, she was unable to nod or to shake her head. Maddening for all involved.

  She held his gaze, begging him to read her mind, if by chance the magic went that far.

  “Can you show me, if you can’t tell me?” His words were quiet, treading delicately.

  She stood and reached for his hand.

  They put on coats and shoes. She led him into the woods.

  But you couldn’t summon goblins unless you came alone, and couldn’t do it in the daytime. Nor did she exactly want to. Still, she brought him to the spot on the trail where the magical path had opened up to her—which in turn wasn’t far from where she had met Grady a few days back.

  She stopped there, let go of his hand and crossed her arms, and looked off into the trees in frustration.

  Grady glanced around too, his breath clouding in the chilly air. “Something happened here?”

  Again, she couldn’t nod or shake her head.

  “If someone attacked you, if there was anything illegal—look, you’ve got to tell someone. You’ve got to find a way.”

  Now she shook her head, irritated. Illegal? The law didn’t even address what had happened to her. Or rather, it had happened under a different set of laws, and it was legal under those. Her own stupid fault for calling out to them, and for accepting their invitation.

  “I’m sorry.” He sounded crestfallen. “I don’t understand. I want to help, but—”

  She stepped forward and grasped his fleece coat, leaning up to his face.

  His eyes locked onto her. He fell silent. Their breath mingled in misty white clouds. The mate-magic was stronger out here; he must have felt it too, though probably not as strongly as she did.

  He gave in with a whimper, took hold of her shoulders, and kissed her.

  She clung to him, drinking in the kiss. His lips were so soft, balanced by the scratchy little points of stubble surrounding them, which scraped pleasurably at her face as she nipped his lower lip and trailed kisses up his cheek. He was breathing fast, his eyes heavy-lidded, dark lashes veiling the blue as he watched her. She curled a hand up around his ear, and would have smiled in fondness at the way those ears stuck out a bit, if she could smile.

  Grady ducked his head and began kissing her neck. “What is it about you?” he murmured. “Why am I so obsessed?”

  Skye clung tighter to him, closing her eyes in pain. Because I’m destroying you with magic. But the pain was mingled with sweetness. She felt terrible for it, but she did still prefer to be linked with mate-magic to him than to any of the goblins.

  They kissed on the path for several minutes, draped in wet, cold, fir-scented air, arms wrapped around one another. It took all her restraint not to pull him deeper into the woods and become his proper “mate” on top of one of these fallen logs. Just as well that an elderly couple appeared, out on a walk along the path.

  Skye and Grady disentangled, and Grady smiled at the couple. “Afternoon.”

  They said hello, beaming as if they knew perfectly well what they’d interrupted.

  After they passed, Grady sent a sheepish glance down at Skye, then squinted up into the trees. “It’s weird. I almost do understand why you brought me out here. How it’s…something to do with the forest.” His words became thoughtfully indistinct. “Or at least I will understand. Same way it feels right with you.” Then he gave her a brighter, clearer smile. “Now I’m the one not making sense. What time is it?” He checked his phone. “Crap. Almost two. Didn’t you say you had to work at two?”

  She nodded and laced her fingers into his, turning back toward town.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  WALKING TOWARD THE GARAGE AFTER DROPPING OFF A REPAIRED CAR AT ITS OWNER’S HOUSE, KIT SPOTTED LIVY’S Forester parked in the small lot at the marina. The low afternoon sun turned the clouds pink, and sparkled on the water between docks. He gave in to impulse and veered down there.

  She wasn’t in her car, so he strolled down the aluminum gangway, steep now since it was low tide. He stepped onto the wooden boards of the marina, which bobbed a bit with each step. He didn’t have to search long. In less than a minute, Livy came out from the marina’s small tackle-and-gift shop, carrying a paper cup with a black plastic lid.

  She chuckled upon seeing him. “Got to stop running into each other.”

  They stopped beside one of the thick posts, upon which barnacles and mussels and sea stars clung up to the height of his head. At high tide, he knew, the whole marina would rise and cover the critters completely, and the gangway would be almost horizontal. “I was on my way by,” he said. “Saw your car. Thought I’d let you know Grady and Skye seem to have survived the day together.”

  She smiled. The cold wind whipped the ends of her long curls; the sunlight turned them reddish-blonde. “I know. I texted her to make sure. She’s working this afternoon, and I guess she got there all right.”

  Kit lifted his eyebrow. “He walked her there.”

  “Oh really?” She sounded intrigued.

  “Yep, told me so. Came to the garage afterward. He’s holding down the fort while I run errands.”

  “She didn’t tell me that part. Just said ‘Fine’ when I asked how it went.” Livy’s smile became wistful, and she looked down at her cup. “Even in texts she hardly talks lately.”

  “Sounded like Grady got a few words out of her, at least. Maybe they’ll be good for each other.”

  “I hope so.” Livy looked up again. “What brings you down here?”

  “Taking Edna Burke’s car back to her.” He nodded southward. “She had a flat, plus the brakes needed adjusting.”

  “You make house calls? Good service.”

  “Eh, I wouldn’t for everyone, but she’s getting on in age, and it’s not far for me to walk.”

  “Considerate of you.”

  Yeah, least he could do for his neighbors, since occasionally he stole from them. Usually not from the people in Bellwater maybe, but from someone’s neighbors, in other towns. He looked away, at the bare sailboat masts lined up in the marina docks, a forest of white poles swaying as the water moved. “Gives me an excuse to go wander around the marina instead of doing actual work.” He smiled at her. “What about you? Shouldn’t you be doing actual work?”

  “I was, kind of. I went to a meeting, then I had a conference call, which I decided to take out here instead of cooped up inside.” She lifted the paper cup. “Then I was freezing by the time it was done, so I got some tea.”

  “The marina. Snack place of champions since—I don’t know, but before I was born.”

  She squinted at him, eyes green in the sun. “I remember seeing you down here when we were teenagers
.”

  “’Course you did. This was the place to be.” He remembered seeing her too—some of her swimsuits and cutoff shorts in particular—but he knew better than to mention those out loud.

  “There was this one time,” she said. “I don’t even know for sure if it was you, but I feel like it was. I was about eighteen, and it was summer, and I had walked down here and bought a bottle of juice. When I came out, you and some friends were sitting against that wall in the shade.” She glanced back at the outer wall of the store, a few feet from the boat gasoline pumps. “You saw me drinking the juice and said, ‘That looks good. Can I have some?’”

  Kit had been grinning ever since she mentioned the juice. “And you handed it to me and let me have a sip.” He remembered it too, in a flash, though he hadn’t thought of it in years—Livy, fully developed and showing it in that bikini top, pausing to look at him in disdain while he hung out with some out-of-towner kids on vacation. Then her expression had shifted to a curious almost-smile, she’d handed him the bottle, and he’d sipped a mouthful of sweet strawberry-kiwi juice, looking her in the eyes. When he’d handed it back, she’d sipped it again without wiping it off, which had struck him as weirdly sexy. Then she’d strolled away.

  Livy laughed. “So it was you.”

  “God, I was such a little punk. You should’ve poured it on my head.”

  “Nah, you were cute. I had the impression your girlfriend didn’t appreciate it, though.”

  “Huh. Right.” He remembered that too, now that she mentioned it: Jenna sitting next to him, smacking his arm after Livy walked off, then pouting and bitching at him all day. “That relationship wasn’t destined to last anyhow.”

  Livy folded her fingers around the tea cup. “Still living the bachelor life these days?”

  “Yeah. It’s the compassionate thing to do. No one deserves to have me inflicted on them for life. What about you?”

  She sipped the tea. “Same. Bachelor life. Except when I come down to the marina to pick up guys, of course.”

  “With your seductive offers of juice.”

  “Works every time.”

  Kit grinned. Here he should have said, Anyhow, I’ll let you get back to it, and walked her to her car.

  He didn’t say that.

  He liked her looks and the way she treated him. He wanted to do something nice for her. Even if, technically, getting involved with him wasn’t much of a favor.

  “You want to play hooky a little longer and walk down the beach with me?” he asked.

  She lifted her eyebrows and considered for a few suspenseful seconds. “Sure.”

  My move, Livy thought. He had invited her on another almost-date, and as with the first one, she was enjoying it. Kind of a lot actually.

  Since it was low tide, they had plenty of beach to walk upon. They followed the shore southward, clambering over small docks belonging to houses, skirting oyster beds exposed by the tide. This was no flat sandy beach like the ocean; Puget Sound’s beaches were nearly all rocks, varying in size from grit to boulder, many of them covered with barnacles. The wind tore down the strait, and would have set her shivering if it weren’t for the exertion of tromping through the bumpy terrain.

  “You’ve lived here your whole life, right?” she asked.

  “Not quite. I was born here, but after my folks died I moved away for a couple years. Rented out the house, and tried living in Idaho, then Wyoming.” He squinted against the wind, hands stuffed into his jeans pockets. “Turned out my troubles just moved along with me.”

  “As they have a way of doing.”

  “So, I figured I might as well come back here. I missed this.” He nodded at the Sound. “The water, the tides.” He grinned at her. “The marina, the girls.”

  “Other towns have girls too, so I’m told.”

  “Still.” He returned his gaze to the shore that rippled off into the distance. “This feels like home. And the cabin still technically belonged to me, so.”

  “Waterfront. I’m jealous.”

  “That’s about the only awesome thing about it. Everything needs repairing, always.”

  “I guess I was similar to you,” she said. “I tried to get away. Went to college, planned to travel…but then, I don’t know. What I really wanted was to take care of this area.” She lifted her mostly-empty cup toward the landscape. “The beaches, the forests. We’re spoiled with how pretty it is around here.”

  “Has its dangers. But it is pretty.”

  “Dangers? Well, okay, earthquakes. Volcanoes. Really cold water.”

  “Bigfoot.”

  “Indeed,” she said. “Mysterious creatures in the woods.”

  He shot her a keen glance.

  “Skye and I used to make up stories,” she explained. “Teeny-tinies, we called them. Forest gnomes or something.” She glanced at the tips of the conifers, darkening to black as the sun set. “Sometimes when I was younger, I even could have sworn I heard them. Music, or laughter, or…” She caught his intent look, and subsided into a chuckle. “It was my imagination. Just, the forest can inspire those kinds of ideas. In someone weird like me, anyway.”

  Kit’s glance slid away from her. “No, me too. You can tell by the crazy stuff I carve out of driftwood.” He slowed, glanced at the orange sky in the west, and turned around. “We better head back before it gets any darker. Hey, and this way the wind’s at our backs. Score.”

  Livy turned with him. The wind pushed her hair over her shoulders, tickling her chin. She chose her next words carefully. “I remember hearing about your folks. I’m sorry.”

  “Yeah. They died within a year of each other. It was…” He balanced on top of a buoy anchor before stepping down and continuing forward. “Not the easiest time ever.”

  “Wow. I bet.” She bit her lip as they trudged along, debating how personal a question to ask next, but he spoke up himself.

  “They had me kind of late in life, so they were both around sixty when they died. Still, that’s kind of young, you know; they both drank too much, and had for a long time, which I’m sure figured into my dad’s heart disease. And my mom’s cirrhosis.”

  “God, you were so young, dealing with that. With no siblings to share the load.”

  “Yeah.” He kept his hands in his pockets, and gazed ahead at the marina. “Worst part was she got Korsakoff’s during the last couple years. I don’t know if you know what that is.”

  Livy shook her head.

  “It’s kind of like dementia, or Alzheimer’s. Happens with alcoholism sometimes. She lost a lot of short-term memory. In fact, a lot of memory in general. By the end, she practically didn’t remember anything from the last five years. I’d go see her in the hospital, and she’d be confused and say, ‘But, Kit, you look all grown up. You’re only twelve.’ Every time.” He made an almost-laugh, a little puff of breath out his nose. “So—Skye not acting like herself, believe me, I do get how that might feel for you.”

  “Jeez.” Livy exhaled, resisting the impulse to stop and hug him right there in the middle of the muddy oysters. “Compared to all that, Skye’s problems are a walk in the park.”

  “Oh, I doubt it. From everything I hear about depression, it feels about as terrible as life gets.” Kit glanced at her. “And it’s just you dealing with it?”

  “Mostly. I’m sure Mom would come up if we asked, but…she worked so damn hard for us after the divorce. I was twelve, Skye was nine. Dad moved out, we saw less and less of him, and Mom was just always working, always tired. It’s why Skye and I got good at taking care of each other. Anyway, recently, Mom’s finally been seeing a great guy, and she’s moved in with him down in Portland, and her job’s taking off—she’s a realtor. And…” Livy shrugged. “How can I mess that up for her, you know? How can I tell her to drop everything and come look after us again?”

  “She’s your mom. She probably would.”

  “I know she would. Which is why I can’t. I’d have guilt issues.” She threw Kit a self-conscious smile.<
br />
  “And your dad?”

  “He’s in New York. We haven’t been in touch a lot. He didn’t try to take care of us as kids, so now it’d feel weird if he did.”

  “I see.”

  “But…” She sighed. “If it gets to the point where I need to ask them for help, I suppose I will.”

  “In the meantime, I’m glad Skye’s got you around.”

  “Today I’m glad she’s got Grady around. I really think he’ll improve things for her.”

  “His cooking does work wonders,” Kit said. “It’s made me not totally hate having him in my house all these weeks.”

  When they reached her car it was almost dark; the western sky was pale lavender, fading to blue, and the lights had been switched on at the marina. Their sterile reflections rippled in the water between moored boats.

  “Give you a ride to the garage?” she asked.

  “That’d be great, thanks.” He hopped in beside her.

  Amid apologies, she pulled maps and empty coffee cups off the passenger-side floor and threw them into the backseat. “I work from my car a little too much.”

  “Reliable car, though.” He tapped the dashboard and cast a professional eye over the interior as she backed out of the parking space. “Had any issues? Head gasket? That’s sometimes a problem with Subarus.”

  “Been okay so far. Should I have you look at that?” She paused before the turn onto Shore Avenue, and glanced at him.

  He was already gazing at her, his light brown eyes and wind-tousled hair unfairly sexy in the glow of the dash lights. “Maybe. But now I’m just finding excuses to make you come see me.”

  Warmth rushed through her, and she smiled. “I’d come see you anyway. Got to see how that mermaid turns out.”

  He smiled too. She looked ahead and drove on through town.

  Definitely her move.

  The drive to the garage was all too short. She pulled into the parking lot within two minutes. Inside the quiet auto shop office, she caught a glimpse of Grady with his head bent over his phone or maybe a book. She rolled to a stop near the garage doors, out of Grady’s sight line.