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  My moment of social paralysis ended. “Goody. You couldn’t have just talked to us?”

  Clearing her throat, Fiona dropped some of her flippancy. “I wanted to see how you would act under intense pressure and I might add, you never would have believed me if I’d said your wife”—nodding at me—“and best pal”—nodding at Juniper—“is a half-magical creature and may be needed to play a part in an otherworldly war.”

  She was right about that. Our drinks arrived, and Juniper and I peppered her with questions. After she answered and explained some more, our food came. It was time to summarize.

  “So, being an artist gives you a cover that allows you to travel anywhere and everywhere at a moment’s notice,” I said.

  “Yes. It’s been quite convenient. I must admit, though, my thirst for throwing light on uncomfortable subjects makes the work quite dangerous.” She smiled a wicked smile. “But fun.”

  Juniper scowled.

  “In fact, that was one of my bodyguards you had thrown in the grey bar hotel at the airport.”

  Juniper looked at me, her eyes big and innocent.

  “Why was he following us?” I asked

  “He was making sure you got on the plane safely.”

  Juniper gave Fiona a wicked smile and said, “Oops.”

  “Don’t worry. He got out after they found nothing on him and no criminal history. He acted gay as a goose and said you misunderstood him when he said your outfit was ‘The Bomb.’”

  Even I had to laugh.

  “I guess we’re even then,” Juniper said. The two women were really more alike than not. I could see them becoming friends, maybe, after a long time had passed.

  Fiona turned to me. “I see you’re wearing the pendant. That’s smart. It will give you some protection from Wolfrum’s men.”

  “My pendant? Mitzi gave this to me.”

  “I assumed so. It’s about a thousand years old, and the only way it’s passed down is through family.”

  “I thought it was plastic,” Juniper said, leaning across to inspect it more closely.

  “Plastic?” Fiona’s laugh was musical. “It probably looks like that, yes. Have you ever heard the phrase ‘Er hat Tentakel und sieht aus wie ein riesiger aggressiver Oktopus?’”

  “That’s not a common saying back in California,” I said dryly and poured more coffee. “We looked it up online but it didn’t help a great deal.”

  “It literally translates as, ‘It has tentacles and looks like a big octopus if a bit more aggressive.’ It describes an ancient guardian of the Hercynian Forest that will protect you from even the most powerful evil. See,” she said, responding to my puzzled look, “even myths have myths.”

  “How did you pronounce that?” My fork tried to stab an olive.

  “Her sin ee in,” Fiona said with a flourish.

  “Ekk was trying to tell you that I guess,” Juniper said.

  I shrugged, wondering why these people all talked in puzzles. It was so much easier to be plain speaking.

  “Fiona, with a name like Castlebaum, were you really born in Ireland?” I asked.

  “Yes, that was one of my husbands’ names, darling. He was Jewish. In fact, he was the one who introduced me to this...otherworld.”

  “What happened to him?” Juniper asked.

  “Make no mistake. Even though out of most of our sight, there is a war being waged. He was killed by Wolfrum’s men.”

  She took a bite of a roll.

  That shut me up. She looked sad, and I didn’t pry further.

  “What can you tell us about April twelfth and the ritual?” I asked, tired of all the code and beating around the bush.

  Fiona looked left and right then said, “I’ve never seen one, but I will tell you about the legend of the dog suns as soon as we have a chance to talk privately.”

  A waiter placed a salad on a beautiful china plate in front of me. I tucked my napkin in my neckline, and Juniper shot me a look. I said, “What? I’m trying to keep my shirt from getting spots.”

  Juniper and Fiona gave each other a look and let it go.

  The restaurant was full of other diners’ conversations and music over the sound system.

  “Okay,” Fiona said quietly, “there are periods of time when both our worlds go on their merry way, operating under the rules of the last dog sun reset. It’s actually kind of organized.”

  “Sounds like rivals meeting in a sports challenge from time to time.” I forked a leafy morsel into my mouth.

  “How nice if it were,” she said. “Unfortunately, people die when they lose. It’s all about who has power and how much.”

  I remembered again her husband was one of those casualties. “How does this religion fit in? Monks sound Catholic.” I couldn’t let it go.

  “Catholics have had their Crusade period to be sure, but this is different. No mercy for anyone.” She again looked around. “Wol—let’s just say the evil man at the head of the cult, uses trappings of mainstream religion, but his goal is utter subjugation of both our worlds.”

  Juniper put down her utensils. “To what end? What drives him or them?”

  “The desire for utter and complete power. They have money and they want hearts and minds. They really believe the world— both worlds—would be better off if men were in charge and women stayed home and made babies. More foot soldiers.”

  I gulped. “Gee, doesn’t leave much room for lesbians, does it?”

  Fiona motioned for more coffee. “No. Or heterosexual women who want to teach or even go to school. It’s really regressive. Most of their recruits are unemployed young men and dwarves, who are fed a diet of good food and given shoes, along with this philosophy that would give them power for the first time. They haven’t the life experience to understand true balance involves both sexes.” She looked at me and Juniper and added, “Or maybe even three or more sexes.” She laughed her throaty laugh at her challenging comment.

  We ate in silence for a while. “This is about men versus women? Why are they beheading people?”

  “To scare ordinary folks. They move in and start doing good, holding rallies, planting trees, and promising order and safety. Then when there are enough of them, once-voluntary observances become mandatory. It’s insidious.”

  “Why not just speak out?” I was angry. “Protest. Write books!” My appetite went away.

  “Too dangerous. It’s not out in the open like that. Listen, you’ll see and hear more that will help you understand. Tonight, you just need to get a good night’s sleep.”

  “Like that will happen.” I stood and put my messy napkin on the beautifully appointed table.

  Some monks came in the front door as Fiona popped up and dabbed her lips. “Time to go.” She hustled us out the back door of the restaurant and into the lobby area. We hurried to the elevator, and Juniper and I got in.

  “Oh, and don’t worry,” Fiona said to Juniper. “I sent a check to the museum for that thing that lifted me up from the beach. A nice touch, yes?”

  The cherry picker. We laughed about that, until Mitzi’s predicament intruded upon my mind. “What about Mitzi? Is there a plan?” The doors started to close, and I put out my hand to hold it.

  “Yes. The four of you, together, are needed for the ritual in the Hercynian Garden. More will be revealed when you get to the Garden.”

  “The one you still haven’t fully explained.” The door kept trying to close.

  “Yes, more will be revealed at the right time,” she said in a serious tone. This time she stopped the door from closing. “And get Valerie here quickly. The stakes are high.” The doors closed with a ding.

  I WAS ALL alone in my hotel room after dinner, and my mind started doing crazy cartwheels around the information we’d just been given. Apparently, Mitzi was being held by monks of the Black Forest who believed that the only way to save the world was to kill anyone who didn’t convert to their views.

  Magic, in their minds, was evil and magical creatures the embod
iment of evil. They also didn’t like queers, Muslims, or women in leadership roles. If Mitzi was half-magic and a lesbian, I had asked, why were they not killing her, too?

  “Oh they will,” Fiona said gravely. “If she’s not able to perform the April twelfth ritual. They can’t kill her until that date has passed because of a magical protection spell that’s due to expire. They’re waiting for the sun dogs, a celestial sign of the transition.”

  After several misdials, I finally got through to Babs in California, where it was the morning of this day.

  “Fowler Tax Services.”

  “Babs. How are things?”

  “Okay. Where are you?”

  “I’d rather not say. How are things there?”

  “Okay, I guess. Your little friend got all the returns out, and I met with the clients when they dropped off their checks and signed. We had a couple of close calls, and once I had to stuff him in a deep drawer.”

  I couldn’t help but smile, imagining that, then burst out in laughter when she said, “Little people can really be cranky.”

  I breathed a sigh of relief. “Is he gone?”

  “Yes. Where do I send his check?”

  “Just hold onto it.”

  “One more thing.” Her voice went to a whisper. “A detective came by wanting to know where you were and had I seen Mitzi. Is Mitzi okay?”

  “Yes, everything’s fine. We’ll be back after the twelfth. It was just a little, unscheduled trip.”

  “Okay. I told him you and Juniper had to catch a plane. Should I tell him anything else if he comes back?”

  “Why did you tell him that?” I said, shocked.

  “You didn’t say not to. He’s the good guys, right?”

  There was no point being mad at her. I never said don’t speak to the police. “What else did he say?”

  “That he thought it was weird, you leaving before the fifteenth and all. Are you in Germany?”

  “Yes. What else?”

  “He asked me if I’d seen Mitzi myself. Panda, I had to say no. Was that wrong? What’s going on?”

  I sighed. “The less you know, the more you don’t have to lie, right? But do text me if anything more happens, and stop talking to the police. Why don’t you close up and take a few days off.”

  “Am I still going to have a job?” A note of terror.

  I hesitated, having no idea if any of us would survive what was ahead. Wanting to instill confidence in her, I said, “Absolutely,” wishing I felt like I sounded.

  THE NEXT MORNING, Juniper and I met in the lobby. The same Touareg came barreling down the snowy road and screeched to a halt in front of the hotel. The same man who helped us at the airport loaded our bags and said, “Mach schnell.” I didn’t have to understand German to know what that meant. Shake a leg!

  The second our butts hit the heated seats, Elsa turned around. “Buckle up,” she said. “It’s going to be rough.”

  She wasn’t kidding. In the backseat, as we swayed back and forth, Juniper told me she’d talked to Val, who had also gotten a visit by a Detective Potts. He seemed to know Juniper and I had left together for Germany. This was very disturbing. Why were the police even involved?

  I held on as we skidded around a corner and headed out of town, directly to the forest. There were many signposts on the twisty roads, and each seemed to lead to another unpronounceable but quaint village.

  The scenery was breathtaking.

  The driver, who had never been introduced, looked worried and said something to Elsa in rapid-fire German. He sounded angry, but then, to me, the language is just like that. Elsa squeaked back in German to him, then turned to us.

  “We’re being followed. Hold on.”

  I thought we couldn’t possibly go any faster, but the driver shifted into a new gear and we fairly flew over the bumps. Green and white flew by, and I wished Mitzi and I were there on vacation. Juniper opened her compact to get a look at who, or what, was behind us. “I don’t see anything,” she said.

  She and I exchanged glances. Were these people trustworthy?

  “You wouldn’t,” Elsa said. “These are ravens. Look up.” We both went to our respective windows and saw a cloud of black drifting in front of the sun.

  “Birds?” I asked.

  “Not just birds, they’re Wolfrum’s eyes. Just a few more minutes and we’ll shake them.”

  The driver took a hairpin turn down a slushy road, and soon we were under a canopy of trees so dense it appeared to be night.

  “This is why they call it the Black Forest,” I reminded Juniper, who looked a bit worried. We bumped down the road, and I was grateful for the seatbelt and quality workmanship of the car.

  We eventually slowed to a reasonable pace. It was impossible to go too fast as we squeezed in between trees. My knuckles were white from holding on. The big car finally stopped with a jerk, and the three of us got out. The driver left Elsa, Juniper, and me on an icy patch in an opening near a rocky outcrop. There appeared to be nothing there but more forest and some big rocks.

  He maneuvered the big German car through the trees, apparently unmindful of scratches to the paint, and soon was gone. “He took off like a bat out of hell,” I said.

  “It’s for the best. He is human only.” Elsa’s eyes were big and blue, like clear water.

  “So are we, Miss Elsa,” Juniper said. “Should we be worried?”

  “Oh, now you get nervous,” I said to Juniper. I was picking a small fight, something Mitzi says I do when overwhelmed.

  “Are you ladies all right?” Elsa looked up from one of our faces to the other. “We’re about to enter the Hercynian Forest.”

  I don’t know what she did, but there was a shift, and I became calmer. The atmosphere then became like another entity. I was aware of the smell of earthy undergrowth and the energy contained in the damp old trees.

  “This is where it gets interesting,” Juniper said softly. I was surprised at how quiet she was. The place had that effect. It felt like a cathedral.

  “I thought we were in the Hercynian Forest already,” I said.

  “Well, you are, sort of, just not the magic part. That’s over here.” And with that, the tiny elf disappeared.

  “Holy shit, now we’re really up a creek.” I started to panic. Being miles from anywhere, with no phone reception in a foreign country, was freaking this city girl out.

  Elsa popped into our view again. “Follow me. The rock is an illusion. Come on.”

  Juniper wrapped her scarf around her more securely, looked at me, and said, “Mach schnell,” with a smile.

  I walked exactly where Elsa stepped and soon felt a warm breeze on my cheeks. The oppressive darkness of the trees was replaced with blue sky and some smaller trees by a clear brook. As far as the eye could see were verdant hills, occasionally dotted by tiny cabins.

  “Our ride will be here in a moment,” Elsa said, and that same imagery of cherry blossoms filled my head for some reason.

  “I like it better in here,” I thought, then realized I’d said it with my outside voice.

  “It’s okay. Thoughts are hard to keep inside here. It’s part of our protection. There’s magic on all the boundaries. I’m going to take you to the safe house now.” A unicorn clopped up, with a normal-sized woman riding it. “Welcome to the Hercynian Garden. I’m Heloisa.” She was extremely fit and wore brown-leather armor. She dismounted gracefully.

  Juniper’s jaw dropped at sight of the unicorn. “May I pet it?”

  The unicorn nodded, and I was filled with wonder as she got her wish. Startled, I laughed and turned to Heloisa. “How?”

  “In this place, the magic allows us all to understand each other. There is German, elfin, dwarf, orc, and then the many horse and lower-form languages. Unicorns understand us but choose not to speak.”

  I stood there amazed. I fought the urge to take out my phone and snap a picture. Breaking the spell, our host said, “Come, we have serious work to discuss.” Heloisa gave a slight inclin
ation of her head and several things happened at once. A miniature, elf-sized, horse-drawn carriage pulled up, and I wasn’t sure we would fit.

  “Sorry,” Heloisa said, “it’s all I could get on short notice.” She remounted with graceful speed, a practiced muscle memory. The driver of our carriage was an elf who looked very young. He clicked his tongue to rev up the “horsepower.” Elsa was perfectly suited for the little bench seat. Juniper and I felt like giants as we lowered our heads and squished in. Our luggage was on the top of the contraption as we began to go down the road.

  “I still don’t see any indication of battle or war, Elsa.” Again I scooched my butt to be more comfortable.

  “If all goes well, you won’t,” Elsa said. “We know you haven’t been trained to fight. We just need the four of you for the ritual.”

  THE TRIP WAS quiet, both Juniper and I lost in thought and looking out the wood-framed windows. We could hear the steady clop of hooves on dirt. We soon stopped in front of the largest building we’d seen yet. It had a wall around it that looked like it had grown there organically. I saw creatures of all description posted at various intervals on the top of it. The gate opened and we entered. Now we began to see the effects of the war. Refugees were so crowded within, that they had set up a tent city inside. Cooking fires made our eyes sting as we alighted and followed Heloisa on foot. The young elf was joined by a dwarf who then followed with our things.

  “I can pick up some of what you’re thinking,” Heloisa said. “The idyllic feeling you had upon arrival is magical. We use it to clean up what we can and to make a safe space between ourselves and the evil nipping at our heels.”

  “Kind of like a moat,” Juniper said.

  “Exactly.” Heloisa looked pleased she’d made the connection.

  My eyes must have been very large, as I took it all in.

  Elfin children played, as children do, chasing a ball the size of a golf ball down a break in the tents. We stopped for a moment as geese honked and a female elf guided them through. It was crowded. I’d describe it as “organized chaos.” We passed a tent and heard fighting of the more domestic sort.