Free Witching There's Another Way: A Cozy Mystery (The Witchy Women of Coven Grove Book 4) by Constance Barker

either.”
    Avery’s face reddened, and he dropped his eyes to the porch before he sipped his tea.
    “Bailey and Aiden will go,” Rita said with finality. “That’s the final word on the matter, or you can take my earlier advice and let the matter rest.”
    “This… passage into Faerie,” Aiden said carefully, “is it… here? In this cave? Have you always known how to open it?”
    “So many questions,” Anita said, shaking her head.
    “And none of them any of his business to be asking,” Rita added.
    Aiden closed his mouth, and the muscles of his jaw bulged momentarily. He didn’t speak further.
    Bailey had questions. Questions that she felt were her business. Like why the crones lived here in the cave in the first place. Was it the cave that made them so long lived, or was that just a perk of being a witch?
    “Aren’t gnomes Faerie creatures?” Avery asked, staring at a cheerful little statue of one at the base of the stairs leading up to the porch.
    “No,” Anita said, “they’re elemental spirits. Different thing altogether.”
    “Nothing a wizard needs to worry about,” Rita told him.
    Avery stilled his expression in the way that Bailey recognized as his fervent attempt to hold his tongue. In any other circumstances she’d have stuck up for him—but somehow, this didn’t seem to be the time or place for that, and there was still every chance that the Crones would still refuse them. If they did, she wasn’t sure that even working together with Aiden they could open the door safely themselves.
    “In answer to one of your questions,” Rita said, “no. We haven’t always been able to open the door to Faerie. It’s recent. The whole system’s been weakening gradually for the past century or so. Only within the last few years has it been possible.”
    Aiden straightened. “Possible? Can they open the door from their end yet?”
    “If they could,” Rita sighed, “they would have. For someone who’s seen Mab herself, you show an awful lot of ignorance, child.”
    “How could you know that?” Aiden wondered.
    Rita only winked at him.
    “So,” Chloe said, “do you have any idea what they can expect? Can we prepare them in some way?”
    Both crones were quiet for a time, except for the creaking of Rita’s rocking chair, and the ticking of Anita’s rapid, rhythmic knitting.
    “There’s no way to know,” Anita said finally. “Faerie isn’t a world like ours, with hard lines and rules. Here, a rock is a rock, a tree is a tree, a house is a house. There, anything can be anything at any time, for any reason. The Faeries themselves make the rules, and they change them at a whim. You might see anything. You might see nothing. You might fall into an endless void and never return.”
    “There are some rules,” Rita said, “which are inviolable. Faeries are creatures of magic, bound by laws more ancient than even they.”
    “They cannot lie,” Anita said, “but they may tell half a truth, and use the truth to mislead.”
    “They cannot stand the touch of iron,” Rita said, “nor cross a threshold made of it.”
    “They may not refuse an offer to dance, but once accepted you may not end the dance until the music is finished—and it may never finish.”
    “Faeries may punish rudeness with impunity; but they must return good manners with politeness themselves. What they consider polite, though—be wary even of polite Faeries.”
    Bailey and Aiden both looked back and forth between the crones until Bailey’s head was dizzy. She felt as though she should write all of this down. “Wait… if they can’t cross a threshold of iron, or refuse a dance, or lie, or even be rude if you’re being polite… I’m not sure I fully understand what danger they pose us.”
    Rita and Anita both sighed heavily, and shook their heads.
    “That’s precisely why we recommend you not go,” Rita said.
    Anita laid her knitting down. “To prepare you for a journey into Faerie would take decades. They