A grimace crossed my face, and I turned my attention from pruning to pulling weeds to widen the circle of cleared earth. Easy like a wish. And wishes always came back to bite you.

Glancing at the angle of the sun, I decided I ought to call it good and get cleaned up before Kisten came over to take me to my driver’s-ed class. I stood, slapping the dirt from my jeans and gathering my tools. My gaze expanded from the singular vision of the pollution-stained grave marker to the wider expanse of my walled graveyard, the domestic Hollows beyond that, and, even farther, the tallest buildings of Cincinnati across the river. I loved it here, a spot of stillness surrounded by life, humming like a thousand bees.

I headed for the church, smiling and touching the stones as I passed, recognizing them like old friends and wondering what the people they guarded had been like. There was a small flurry of pixies by the back door to the church, and I picked my way to it, curious as to what was up. My faint smile widened when the snap of dragonfly wings turned into Jenks. The pixy circled me, looking good in his casual gardening clothes.

“Hey, Rachel, are you done over there?” he said by way of greeting. “My kids are dying to check out your gardening.”

Skirting the circle of blasphemed ground encompassing the grave marker of a weeping angel, I squinted at him. “Sure. Just tell them to watch the oozing tips. That stuff is toxic.”

He nodded, his wings a gossamer blur as he went to my other side so I wasn’t looking into the sun. “They know.” He hesitated, then with a quickness that said he was embarrassed, blurted, “Are you going to need me today?”

I looked up from my uneven footing, then back down. “No. What’s up?”

A smile full of parental pride came over him, and a faint sparkle of gold fell as he let some dust slip. “It’s Jih,” he said in satisfaction.

My pace faltered. Jih was his eldest daughter, now living across the street with Ceri to build up a garden to support her and a future family. Seeing my worry, Jenks laughed. “She’s fine! But she’s got three pixy bucks circling her and her garden and wants me to build something with them so she can see how they work, then make her decision from that.”

“Three!” I adjusted my grip on my spell pot. “Good Lord. Matalina must be tickled.”

Jenks dropped to my shoulder. “I suppose,” he grumbled. “Jih is beside herself. She likes them all. I just stole Matalina and didn’t bother with the traditional season-long supervised courtship. Jih wants to make a dragonfly hut. Poor guy who wins is going to need it.”

I wanted to look at him, but he was too close. “You stole Matalina?”