Minions and Magic by Debra Dunbar

Author:Debra Dunbar [Dunbar, Debra]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Goodreads: 47954058
Published: 2019-08-29T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13

Glenda

I arrived just before noon, waving to Antwan as I hopped out of the van. He looked completely out of place—a tall, muscle-bound, bald, black man who looked like he should have been a CrossFit trainer or a bouncer standing in front of a putt-putt course. He’d moved to Accident five years ago but was more comfortable in the human world than most of our residents. He’d bought this putt-putt course, and construction was underway to build an old-fashioned arcade to the side, and he seemed to be happy in our community even though he took vacations a three or four times a year to head to the coast. No doubt our lakes and marshes weren’t quite what the shark shifter was used to.

Antwan waved back, giving the parking lot a quick scan before opening the door for me.

“Everything good?” I asked him.

He nodded. “Your sister was here putting up the charms an hour ago. I made sure all my regulars knew today was a private party.”

Bronwyn and Sylvie had partnered to work on a set of charms that would deter humans from even entering the parking lot. If any somehow managed to pass those, then Antwan would make sure they left before they saw anything.

And trust me, if Antwan asked someone to leave, they left. I’d grown up around trolls, werewolves, and even a dragon, but Antwan was the most intimidating person I’d ever met.

“Piffle is already here decorating,” he added. “I’m gonna be minding the door most of the time, so make sure you save a plate for me.”

My eyes widened. “Of gnome food? Slugs, turnips, bread, and sour cherry pie?”

His face settled into a thoughtful expression. “Never had slugs before. I like eel, though and I’m assuming it’s similar? I’d be willing to give it a try.”

Okay. Mental note: shark shifters like eel, and aren’t adverse to trying unusual foods. “I’ll put a few aside for you to try,” I told him as I pulled my cart through the doorway.

Piffle was putting red pointed birthday hats on tables, her blonde braids nearly brushing the ground as she walked. The tables were set near a seven-foot pile of fake granite rocks, the dinosaur waterfall spewing neon blue water in the background.

Gnomes were famous for their gardening abilities. Flowers. Vegetables. They were especially good at growing root vegetables. I could get all sorts of heirloom varieties of veggies with flavor profiles absent in a world of supermarket foods. When I’d been told the birthday party was going to be here, I’d been surprised. Artificial turf, concrete rocks and animals, and plastic flora surrounded us. I guess the appeal was the game itself. Gnomes loved to play, and they had been able to talk about nothing but this party for over a month now. None of them had ever played putt-putt before, making this party just as much about the new game as it was Gronk’s birthday celebration.

“Here?” I asked Piffle as I pulled a set of chafing dishes from the cart.

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