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“I’m going to ask you to keep the secret…” said Ferah, as she and Rockmouse reached the top of the stairs that led up from the dock, adding “about Montay in the shed—I’ll tell you all when I’ve figured out what to do—but I need to know exactly what’s best, first.”

Panting, Rockmouse volleyed back, “I get that, but has it occurred to you that we’re here to help? I mean, how dangerous is Montay, anyhow?”

Just beyond, Fernlodth was swinging a bag of oranges over and around his head as he danced near the Weber grill, perfectly timing his gastric emissions and shouting “My Superpower” to the delight of his fellow gnomes.

“It’s really Jimann we have to worry about,” Ferah considered, chuckling in spite of herself, at the gnomes’ antics, “And I’m hoping I can convince my brother to remember who we really are, before the Fae Council of Liminal Balance gets to him with their rough tactics.”

“I’m glad to hear you say that, because mark my words and remember, the only thing more powerful than hate is love,” Rockmouse tossed to the side as she broke into a run, shouting “Knock it off Fernlodth…you’re gonna taint the proteins, ya chucklehead!”

© Liz Husebye Hartmann (2026)

(To be continued)