Witch at Last: A Jinx Hamilton Mystery Book 3 (The Jinx Hamilton Mysteries) by Juliette Harper

Author:Juliette Harper
Language: eng
Format: mobi
ISBN: 9781943516889
Publisher: Skye House Publishing
Published: 2016-03-28T23:00:00+00:00

13

I hadn’t taken two steps before the dragonlets rose into the air and settled into a perfect “V” formation over our heads.

Tori moved up beside me. “You’re stepping up from bringing stray cats home,” she observed wryly.

“Let’s just hope there’s no litter box training involved with this crew,” I replied.

Ahead of us, Myrtle and Amity were talking quietly, but I couldn’t make out what they were saying. I did hear Festus behind me declare loudly, and in a highly annoyed voice, “Boy, it is none of your business how much time I do or don’t spend in a pub.”

Chase tried to pitch his voice low, but his words still came through. “Dad, I would just like to avoid a repeat of the incident that happened during our last visit to The Valley. It’s pretty embarrassing to have to spring you from the local gaol.”

I didn’t need a dictionary to figure out that “gaol” was a 75-cent word for “jail.” It took all of my self-restraint not to giggle.

And then he said something so sweet, I had to resist the urge to turn around and hug him.

“Would you please just behave yourself this one time for me?” Chase asked. “I’m trying to make a good impression on Jinx. That’s kind of hard to do with you catting around in some werecat dive.”

“The Dirty Claw is not a dive,” Festus said defensively. “It’s a retired gentleman’s drinking establishment.”

“Right,” Chase hissed, “where retired gentlemen werecats smoke catnip, drink creamed whisky, and caterwaul at the top of their lungs.”

“You know, boy,” Festus said amiably and loudly, “you really ought to do something about that hairball stuck up your . . .”

Before Festus could finish the thought, I hastily called out, “Hey, Myrtle, can I ask a question?”

As Myrtle told me to go ahead, I heard Chase whisper furiously behind me, “We will finish this conversation later, Dad.”

Parents. They will grow up to embarrass their kids.

I had been studying the landscape while I eavesdropped, and I really did have a question. “Why don’t these mountains look like the ones around Briar Hollow?” I asked.

“They are the same mountains,” Myrtle replied, “but remember, they developed along a different path of time.”

That didn’t mean a lot to me and I would have been willing to let the answer go at face value, but Tori was determined to understand the whole alternate chronology question.

“I thought the two time streams were parallel,” she said.

“The streams are parallel, but they are not identical,” Myrtle replied. “They flow side by side, but events affect the depth and nature of each stream. This is a line of time in which the land you think of as North Carolina remained remote and wild. It was subject to a variant of the forces that formed the mountains, one that was more violent and forceful. Barnaby chose this stream for those very reasons.”

We took a few more steps, during which I could almost hear the gears turning in Tori’s mind. “Are you saying that the Valley of Shevington is the only settlement in this time stream?” she asked.

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