Free Autumn by Lisa Ann Brown

strange events of the evening. How very odd that the moment Eli’s parents had mentioned Jonty Governs, a manhunt for the man should be undertaken. This synchronicity was beyond any level of synchronicity Arabel had ever witnessed before. It felt like someone had been listening to their conversation or perhaps leading them in the direction necessary to have that particular conversation.
                  Were they being baited? And was there any truth to the path they were on? Or was it a convoluted misfire cleverly designed to keep them from the killer?
                  The crow had been adamant that answers were to be found at the Rosewood Inn and Arabel knew she needed to return there at once. She would leave Crow’s Nest Pass at dawn and somehow figure out how to not be missed, since she would be staying at least one night in Magpie Moor. But how to accomplish this feat? Arabel also realized she would be venturing out alone as it was relatively certain that Eli would not be given another day off to accompany her. Arabel felt a sharp pang of disappointment.
                  A knock on the door disturbed Arabel’s reverie. Morna stood in the doorway, cradling a mug of hot cocoa in her capable hands.
                  “Thought you could use this, miss, seeing as you’ve been out all night, probably catching chill!” Morna admonished in her fussy, overprotective and motherly way.
                  Arabel took the mug gratefully. Morna moved more fully into the room and began to stock up the fire in Arabel’s grill. It burned cheerfully and filled the room with heat.
                  “So your young man is a Gypsy, is he then?” Morna queried slyly, and Arabel ascertained that a desire to gossip was the real reason behind the thoughtful delivery of hot cocoa.
                  Arabel blew on the steaming mug to cool it. “He’s not my young man, but yes, Eli is a Gypsy,” she responded.
                  Morna hid a large smirk behind her hand and her cheerful face bobbed up and down with unreleased laughter. “You can say that all you likes, missy, but I saw the way you be looking at him. And he at you! Not that most of the young men don’t cast their eyes your way – lot of good it does them, mind you – but you were actually looking back for once!”
                  Arabel felt a creeping blush stain her cheeks.
                  “I do like him, Morna,” Arabel admitted. “He’s unlike anyone else I’ve ever met.”
                  Morna put a hand upon Arabel’s shoulder. “You just tell me when you sneak out, then, and I can do my best to cover for you with your granny.” A delighted conspirator, Morna put her fingers to her lips. “I know how to spin a good yarn,” she said with a grin and Arabel instinctively knew her flight to Magpie Moor just became incrementally easier.
                  After she finished the cocoa, Arabel readied herself for slumber. She remembered the herbs Mireille had given her and she carefully took the flask out of her bag to examine it. The flask was an opaque glass container with a small cork stopper. Arabel removed the stopper and the rich smell of the herbs escaped the container. Arabel sniffed deeply, recognizing the comforting scent of lavender infused with the rich notes of fresh honey.
                  Arabel re-used the spoon from her hot cocoa to try a sample of the herbal concoction. It tasted slightly bitter, but not overly, and Arabel swallowed the spoonful easily. She carefully replaced the cork stopper and put the flask in a drawer for safekeeping.
                  Almost immediately, Arabel felt the tonic beginning to work within her veins. Her eyelids instantly drooped and her limbs felt heavy and weighted down, and seemed to becoming heavier by the second. Arabel yawned widely and quickly changed into