Page 137 of The Other Side

“Jules and Erin, the witches, live in one of these houses.” Kit gestured towards a row of quaint properties. He turned to them with a mischievous glint in his eye. “I’ll let you guess which one.”

Drum and Osian both laughed when they saw one cottage covered in a thick, perfectly square blanket of pristine white snow, while the lawns of the properties on either side were completely green and surrounded by flower beds alive with colour.

“Why?” Osian asked.

“Jules hates snow. Erin loves it,” Kit explained in a stage whisper. “So when he’s pissed her off… Well, she brings the Arctic to the front door. We all know to steer clear when the gutters start growing icicles.”

As they kept walking, the light-hearted energy of the village caught up with Drum. He intentionally let Osian get a few paces ahead, scooping up a handful of loose snow from a stone wall as he passed the cottage, packing it tightly. He waited a minute, then sent it flying. It hit Osian squarely on the back of the neck, showering down inside his T-shirt.

Osian spun round, sputtering, his eyes wide with shock.

“Good shot.” Kit cheered.

Osian raised his eyebrows, a slow, playful smirk spreading across his face as he brushed the snow from his neck. “I won’t forget that, Drum. Sleep with one eye open.”

Drum laughed. It felt good to be able to do that. There’d been times when he was trapped underground when he’d thought he’d never laugh again.

“How do you explain the snow to visitors?” Osian asked.

“That they use a snow machine. And in the winter when everywhere but that cottage is covered in snow—heating pipes.” Kit shrugged.

They reached a stone structure in a small clearing with water pouring out of a hole in a rock. “This is the village well,” Kit said. “It’s supposed to be a wishing well. There are all sort of stories about it. Can’t wish for yourself. Can’t be anything that will harm someone else. That sort of thing. The old magic in these hills is finicky. I’ve never dared wish for anything in case it gets twisted. The water tastes good though.”

Kit carried on chatting, telling them who lived where—painting a picture of a vibrant, hidden community where vampires had blood on a regular delivery schedule, where pixies routinely messed up the café’s Wi-Fi and where ordinary people lived alongside the extraordinary, and either did or didn’t know the truth about their neighbours.

“Hi, Zeon,” Kit called as a figure dressed all in black hurried up the other side of the road.

Zeon didn’t answer. Drum wondered how Kit knew who it was under the black hoodie. It was hot to be wearing a hoodie.

“Last time I saw them, they were in their blue-hair phase,” Kit said.

“Oh, the faery in the barely-there shorts.” Osian gave a short laugh.

“They’re not…happy. We’re all working on it.”

They were almost back at the house where Drum and Osian were staying when Kit’s tone shifted, dropping slightly as he pointed out a track. “Mikkel lives just up here. Why don’t you go up and say hello.”

“Thank you, Kit. Thank you for the food too.”

“You’re very welcome. By the way, my house is the one with the lurcher weathervane on the roof.”

Mikkel’s house was a simple stone cottage perched on the hillside. From the outside it looked even smaller than the one he and Osian were living in. Mikkel opened the door after a single knock.

“Kit been showing you round?” he asked, looking down the road to where Kit was walking home.

“Yes,” Osian said.

“Come in.”

Both Drum and Osian stopped dead as they stepped inside. The cottage was enormous. The outside had lied.

The front door opened into a broad entrance hall, its high timber beams disappearing into shadow overhead. A wide wooden staircase curved up the left-hand wall. Polished stone flags gleamed beneath their feet, and at the far end of the hall a dining room overlooked snow-covered mountains through tall windows.

Mountains that couldn’t possibly be there. Let alone be snow covered.

Mikkel closed the door behind them. “Coffee?”

“Please,” Drum said quietly, exchanging a wide-eyed glance with Osian as they followed Mikkel into another room.