It was eerily quiet inside Jinxy’s empty cottage, as if a blanket had been draped over it, muffling every sound. It was also messy in a way that suggested she knew exactly where everything was. A jumble of outdoor shoes lay by the door, with hats crammed onto a hook and gloves heaped on the side table.

  In the living room, blankets were piled on the seats before a cast iron fireplace lined with a thick layer of ashes that hadn’t been cleared yet. A faint scent of old ash and peppermint lingered in the air. A door to the side led to the kitchen, and a stairway with a wooden bannister rose in the corner to where Lacey presumed the bedrooms were. Beside it stood a small writing desk on which papers lay in a dishevelled pile.

  Lacey took in the untidy cottage. ‘Gosh, I don’t know where to start.’

  ‘Well, I think I do. What’s missing over here?’ Peter asked, pointing to the foyer area around the front door.

  She frowned, reviewing the space more carefully. ‘A coat,’ she realised. ‘Jinxy’s outdoor things are all here: her gloves, shoes, and hats. Everything besides an outdoor coat.’

  ‘Her coat wasn’t left behind at the workshop either; I checked on the day of her disappearance.’

  ‘Wow, when you say it like that, it feels like ages ago. Hard to believe it’s only the second day.’

  ‘I know,’ he replied, his shoulders drooping. She could see the worry sitting on him and stifled an impulse to reach out to comfort him. ‘But still, she’s disappeared for longer than two days before. Her record was about three years ago when she was gone for five days on what we later found out was a hunt for Christmas orchids. I do wish she would tell us when she goes off to do these things. Then we’d at least know whether to worry or not!’

  ‘I wish so too. It’s hard not to be concerned, what with it being so cold outside and no trace of her. Did she find the Christmas orchids?’

  ‘She did. They’re part of the town hall’s exotic Christmas display surrounding the Five Golden Rings. You should go take a look. Jinxy did a fantastic job when she set that up.’

  ‘I sure will,’ Lacey said, curious about what Christmas orchids looked like. She set the question of how orchids would grow in this climate aside. This was the magical North Pole, after all. ‘So, Jinxy also does other projects in the village? She sure is talented.’

  ‘Oh yes, she is quite the artist.’

  Together they began a slow tour of the cottage, walking through every room and observing as much as possible without disturbing Jinxy’s belongings. The best description Lacey could come up with for what she saw was ‘ready to live’. Jinxy could simply walk to her front door and grab whatever outerwear she needed on the way out. In comparison, to do the same in her Earth house, Lacey would have had to walk into her little foyer storage, select the appropriate hat and gloves from their colour-arranged rows on the shelf and then leave.

  Jinxy’s workroom was a mess of dried leaves, flowers, curious rocks, and bunches of herbs hanging from hooks on the ceiling. Flower presses sat on wooden stands, and a half-finished collage of pressed flowers and leaves was spread out on the table. True to form, it had the occasional accentuating rhinestone incorporated into the design. It was like the project was waiting for her to walk back in and continue.

  In contrast, Lacey’s home office was painted in tones of grey, echoing that of her work office, with a clear desktop and files primly stored on shelves. What did it say that Jinxy’s workroom at home focused on a different hobby than her workshop work? Lacey’s was just more of the same.

  But it was the bedroom that affected Lacey the most. Whether Jinxy’s bed should be called a bed or a nest was an open question. A wooden bower hung low off the ground in a corner, loosely enclosing a round mattress. A thick down comforter was bundled inside, with pillows protruding on various sides. True to form, different coloured smooth glass pieces were strung through the bower’s latticework. They were mostly green, with other colours mixed in between, giving the impression of leaves and flowers as the sun, shining through the window, played through them and created coloured patches of light on the bed.

  Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

  The image of a safe and colourful nest called to something deep within Lacey. She thought of her flat square bed at home, neatly made, and yearned for what she saw here. She guessed some could call her lifestyle pretty minimalist, just the bare necessities. And it wasn’t that Jinxy’s place was smarter or had nicer things than hers. No, it was just that there was a looseness here, and an abundance of the things that brought Jinxy happiness and contentment. Lacey’s heart longed for that same freedom and abundance. When had she last arranged her life around delight rather than efficiency?

  ‘Wow, I’m not sure whether Jinxy’s an elf or a forest fairy,’ she said, attempting to mask the room’s effect on her.

  ‘A little of both, I would guess. I remember when she and Melo were working on her bower bed project. It sure turned out wonderfully.’

  Suddenly, there was an audible noise from downstairs, a faint metallic rattle, like a key being tried in an already-unlocked door, followed by a door handle turning and the front door opening. They exchanged a look, and Lacey followed Peter down. Was Jinxy returning home? But no, it was only Cynthie walking in after shaking the snow off her boots. She turned around and said, ‘Oh, it’s you, hello.’

  ‘Hi there,’ Peter responded. Lacey smiled and waved, noticing the odd look Cynthie gave her in return. It was like she didn’t quite get why Lacey was there with Peter. ‘Expecting someone else?’ he continued.

  ‘I saw the tracks in the snow leading up to the front door and thought maybe some of the others had come over.’

  ‘Oh, to do what?’

  Cynthie shrugged. ‘Jinxy dries the berries Melo picks for us in her pantry. They also have a supply of nuts here. If we want to make cookies or cake, we always come get some.’

  ‘Is that why you came?’ Lacey asked.

  ‘No, actually. I came to fetch the cookie timer Jinxy borrowed from me for her glue. I need it tomorrow.’

  ‘For her glue?’ Peter asked.

  ‘Yes, she uses it to time the glue drying on her collages. Hers recently broke, so she was borrowing mine. I asked her for it the last time I saw her, but, you know.’

  Yes, they knew all too well.

  ‘Oh, there it is,’ Cynthie continued, walking over to the writing desk in the corner. It was one of those chicken-shaped timers, and it stood on the desk on its comically outsized yellow chicken feet. Reaching out to pick it up, Cynthie’s elbow knocked into a pile of papers teetering ominously on the edge. ‘Oops!’ she exclaimed, grabbing at them. Lacey rushed over and helped to steady the mound.

  Crisis averted, Cynthie headed back out, saying, ‘Well, let me not keep you,’ clicking the door shut behind her again.

  ‘Okay,’ Peter said, ready to resume their search of the cottage.

  ‘No, wait a moment,’ Lacey stopped him. ‘Don’t you find it odd that she just had to fetch her cookie timer now? When we’re over here? And why does she have a key to the cottage?’

  ‘It doesn’t seem strange to me that she would come here on her own. Jinxy’s friends do it all the time. They all have keys to each other’s cottages and come and go as they please. That’s how I got hold of mine; I borrowed it from Melo,’ Peter said, nonplussed.

  ‘All right, I guess. At least she gave us two new pieces of information.’

  ‘And what’s that?’

  ‘Well, how about this time you tell me. What did we learn about Jinxy’s movements from the cookie timer?’

  He considered. ‘She borrowed the cookie timer to time glue, and Cynthie had asked for it back the morning of her disappearance.’

  ‘And where did she find the cookie timer just now?’

  ‘On the desk … yes,’ he realised. ‘If Jinxy had been actively using it, it would’ve been in the workroom. So, she must’ve come home, set it here deliberately… and then left again.’

  ‘Yes, indeed. Then, number two. When I helped Cynthie straighten the papers, I found this note at the top.’ Lacey said, showing it to him. Peter leaned in as she smoothed the crinkled page. It read:

  Hiya Jinx

  Mind stopping by the candy fields this afternoon? I’ve got something I want to show you. It’ll look really great in your collage!

  The note was unsigned.

  ‘Nobody mentioned asking her to meet them in the candy cane fields,’ Peter said, frowning again. ‘It might not be from that day.’

  ‘Still, it is the most recent note, and she would need her outdoor coat for it. Worth checking out at the very least?’

  ‘Yes, I agree. Let’s go!’

  ??????

  Note: This chapter is one of two prewritten backlog chapters. It’s within the spirit of the Writathon, as described in the , and counts toward my Writathon streak.