Midsummer Under the Hill: The 7C Stories, #5

By Alice Degan

Rose White opened the Heaven and Earth Bakery to cater to Toronto's underground population of supernatural Others, and business is good. It is Midsummer's Eve, and as usual she has a catering contract for the Sidhe ball. Travelling with her to the festivities—with strict instructions not to eat the food—are Nick, her werewolf delivery boy, Cristina, her vampire assistant baker, and John, their entirely human case worker from the Office of Other Affairs. None of them is remotely prepared for what awaits them.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Alice Degan
• Release date: May 9, 2023
• ISBN: 9781988086309

Book preview

Midsummer Under the Hill

MIDSUMMER UNDER THE HILL

THE 7C STORIES

BOOK FIVE

ALICE DEGAN

Sexton’s Cottage

Midsummer Under the Hill

Alice Degan

© 2023 by Alice Degan

Published May 2023 by Sexton’s Cottage Books.

All rights reserved.

Cover design by Alice Degan

CONTENTS

Midsummer Under the Hill

Afterword

About the Author

Also by Alice Degan

MIDSUMMER UNDER THE HILL

Rose woke from one of those dreams where she had found a door in her condo that didn’t really exist, leading to a room that she had never seen. In this dream the imagined room was filled with old, comfortable furniture, and there were sliding doors at the back that opened onto a suburban backyard. In real life, the condo was on the thirty-second floor overlooking the lake. She had not felt astonished to discover the new room, though, just mildly surprised that she didn’t use it more often. She knew other people had dreams like this. But of course none of those people had actually lived in apartments where you could open a door and find a room on the other side that hadn’t been there before. Neither did she, any more. She sat up in bed.

The sunlight glowed behind her bedroom curtains, tinting the room red. It was only five-thirty, but the sun was already well past the horizon. Rose pulled the curtain open a little and sat looking out at the harbour-front traffic far below. It was going to be a long day. Well—it was the longest day of the year. Midsummer.

She shuffled into the kitchen, ran water into the kettle, got a yogurt out of the fridge, and hauled herself onto a stool at her kitchen island. She dipped her spoon into the yogurt container and began sifting through the stacks of paper that covered half the island. Most of it needed to be thrown out. There was an ad for the Queen Street Blood Co-op (Making Toronto Safer, One Pint at a Time), a letter asking her to sign a petition to ban the Wild Hunt, some forms from the Office of Other Affairs that she thought she had already submitted. She pulled those out and laid them on the top of the pile. It was some of Taki’s Dangerous Subject paperwork, as nonsensical as most of the stuff from Other Affairs. The Office of Other Affairs didn’t even have its own letterhead. All of its correspondence was printed on Ontario Ministry of Culture letterhead, with Office of Other Affairs laser-printed in a mismatched font underneath the logo. Rose had once heard Nick describe it as kind of ghetto.

Pulling the papers out had partially disclosed another slim sheaf that lay under them. Form 8A: Application (Divorce) it said in the corner. There was a name in a box on the left labelled Applicant(s). She looked at it with a distant feeling, as if the hand holding the paper were something she was seeing on a TV screen. She had been married to that man—was married to him, technically. He had slept beside her in the bed she had just got up from. (Or had it been a different bed? She had got rid of some of their furniture when she moved.) He belonged to a part of her life that was utterly gone, and she could hardly believe now that he had been real.

She felt that same sense of unreality sometimes when she thought of her baby, her unborn daughter. Could there really be another living thing in there, inside of her? It seemed preposterous.

She found the envelope she had been looking for. It tipped out of the pile, and four shiny green paper leaves slid out and fluttered down to land on the kitchen floor. Faint, veiny letters on the surface of each spelled out the words Catering Staff.

D on’t forget we’ve got the ball tonight, Rose called after Nick as he swung through the door between the bakery kitchen and the storefront.

He paused and turned back. Oh, yeah. What time?

We’ll leave at eleven-thirty. You might want to take a nap. We’ll be up all night. At least.

Nick nodded. Okay. I’m up for it. Oh … Harun was going to go to that too, wasn’t he?

Yes—I asked him to be my date. I thought it might do him some good to get out of the house.

It’s just that I don’t know if he’s going to be able to make it. He’s been pretty transparent since last night.

Oh dear. I’ll check on him, I guess.

Nick, you will need a date, too, said Cristina, her voice echoing metallically from the bowl of the big mixer, which she was scrubbing.

I will?

Yes! Cristina emerged from the mixer, pushing back her bandanna. Didn’t Rose explain to you? She tsked expressively. So—don’t make yourself any worries. I will go with you.

That’s all right, Cristina, said Rose. You needn’t come—I know you don’t care for these Sidhe events.

No no—I will go. Cristina rinsed her dishcloth, looking martyred. It is no trouble for me to be out all night. Nick cannot go without a date.

I don’t mind, said Nick weakly. I’m used to being laughed at by the cool kids.

You can’t go to a fairy ball without a date, Cristina insisted. You will get a fairy asking you to dance. Then what will you do? You have to say, I am with so-and-so—then they will not bother you.

I don’t know that I’d necessarily get asked to dance. I think I might be okay.

"You would most certainly get asked to dance, Nick," said Rose.

She is right, Cristina cut in again. The fairies ask everyone. And then they will not let you stop. Even when you are about to fall down from exhaustion. Sometimes they will make you dance for years. It is dangerous—that is why you must have a date.

Oh, said Nick. I see. And I was thinking it was just so I didn’t look like a loser.

So I will go with you. It is all right—I have gone many times before. I don’t mind. Cristina’s