Geographically divided in half by the Oak River and built on the banks of the lesser stream and the high cliffs of the Mississippi River, Riverdale was also divided by cultures. The old and the new, the human and the magical.

According to Great-Gran and her never-ending history lessons as Ari was growing up, the original city was built entirely on the Mississippi bluffs with the docks on the lower banks of the Oak. Over time, the human population drifted inland on both sides of the smaller stream. New developments flourished, often referred to as suburbs, and a modern city center followed the migration. Olde Town took on an identity of its own. Riverdale’s 287,000 residents, sprawling across the countryside in haphazard fashion, didn’t fit well into any scheme for division. In spite of or maybe because of its differences, the city remained under one municipal government, a fact ignored by local vernacular. Olde Town, downtown Riverdale, and the suburbs all meant distinctly different places.

A year before Yana was unsworn as a Guardian, she moved to the suburbs. Not the far suburbs, but the land just east of Goshen Park. Her home was no more than fifteen minutes from Claris’s shop, and that afternoon Ari hardly had time to stretch her legs before she was climbing Yana’s front steps.

Yana spotted the young witch immediately. “Arianna! Come in and help me.”

Ari opened the screen door. Yana Montrey was struggling to move a six-foot-long bolt of fabric, a tough task given her four-foot stature. At 114 years old, Yana was well beyond middle age for a wood nymph but not yet considered an elder. Her naturally silver hair, wound around the crown of her head in the honeycomb style favored by her people, showed traces of white. As expected, she had aged rapidly since the unswearing ceremony in June and the associated loss of her guardian powers, especially the enhanced strength and the rapid self-healing. Her step was a little slower, but the yellow-green eyes still sparkled, and her smile was just as inviting.

Ari set the bag of seedlings next to the door, grabbed one end of the bolt, and they wrestled it down the hallway and onto the dining room table.

“What is this?” Ari asked.

“New drapes. Something much more cheerful.” Yana began to unfasten the bolt so Ari could see the colors, primarily white and sunshine yellow with what looked like red ribbons here and there.

Ari looked around the room, thinking Yana’s curtains were fine. They fit in with all the knick-knacks and the vivid splashes of color. Cozy and whimsical. But what did she know? Her own sparse apartment didn’t reflect any decorating skills.

Hernando chose that moment to swagger into the room. The snowy white Siamese paused to inspect Ari with huge, cornflower eyes. Yana adopted him as a kitten when she first bought the house. Now he owned it. After many twitches of the tail and a pointed stare, he wound around Ari’s ankles, purring. When she didn’t respond immediately, he began yowling as only the Siamese can do, until she gave in and picked him up.

Yana stood back and pointed to the new drapery material. “See? Cheery. I think it will look lovely.”

“Perfect,” Ari agreed, absently stroking the cat’s fur. “If you want to work on the drapes, I’ll help.” Ari wasn’t sure what she could do. Maybe cut something. But she was willing to try.

“Oh, goodness, no. I’ll sew later, after you’re gone. Time for everything these days. Let’s have tea. I made fresh scones,” Yana coaxed.

As if Ari needed encouragement. She grabbed two small plates and took a seat at the kitchen table. Yana’s kitchen owned a view of the back yard. Flower beds overflowed with late blooms visited by multi-colored butterflies and the occasional flash of garden fairy wings. Birds swooped, chitting and chirping around the three feeders.

“Do you ever regret it?” Ari asked, studying the peaceful scene. “Giving up the guardianship?”

Yana placed steaming cups of buttercup tea and a plate of scones on the table. The aroma made Ari’s mouth water.

“Not often,” Yana said. “It was exciting, but it’s a job for the young. My body grew weary. And my spirit too, I think. It was time.” She appeared lost in thought for a moment. She looked up, suddenly smiling. “Tell me all the news. When you visit me, it usually means something’s going on.”

“Yana,” Ari protested, “I don’t always bring my problems. Sorry if it feels that way.”

“Nonsense.” The wood nymph laughed. “Wasn’t meant as a criticism, only a reflection of the responsibilities you’ve accepted. But before we talk about that, tell me, how is Claris? When I spoke with her yesterday, she sounded tired. That girl doesn’t have our strength, and she works too hard.”

“Oops, thanks for reminding me. Claris is fine. She’s one of the reasons I’m here.” Ari got up and retrieved the bag from the front door. “She sent you these seedlings.”

They chatted for a while about Claris and Brando, the gardens, even the weather. Eventually, the conversation turned to Guardian business, and Ari detailed the girl’s murder, the murder scene, and the human boyfriend’s angry confrontation at Claris’s shop.

“When I leave here, I’m going after the other boyfriend, the unknown vamp. A more likely suspect. Ever hear of a Vince or Victor?”

“Doesn’t ring a bell. But I never knew many of them by name.” Yana frowned. “Take care. These domestic things are dangerous. All that raw emotion.”

“So you think it’s domestic? Maybe that’s it, but I haven’t told you what happened last Sunday. And, whether connected or not, I’ve had this weird foreboding.”

Ari described the werewolf’s attack on the teens in Goshen Park, especially the creepy way he looked at her, and the sudden appearance of the vampire. When Ari finished, Yana puckered her mouth in thought. Or maybe it was worry.

“Don’t like any of this,” she finally said. “If you hadn’t been there to protect those children… We haven’t seen such behavior around Riverdale in a long time. The local packs usually do a better job of policing their own. And no one’s seen the creature since?”

“Nope. The packs have looked, but so far nothing. No one can think of a likely redhead or anyone who turns into a reddish wolf. A loner, maybe. A transient. Maybe he’s gone.”

“What will you do with him, if you find him? Relocation wouldn’t be easy. Where would you put a predatory animal who can pass for and think like a human most of the time?”

“I don’t know,” Ari said, giving her an unhappy face. “Relocations are never easy. I helped Martin with one a month ago. Vampire bats that weren’t satisfied with cow blood. Have you ever tried to round up bats?”

Yana’s chuckle showed the dimples in her cheeks.

“How did you cover it all?” Ari asked. “Olde Town and the new city? I’m busy with just one district.”

“I had two apprentices. That’s why the Council has split the territory.”

“There’s still a lot to do, and a lot I don’t know. Like now. Something’s happening in Olde Town. I can feel it. At times, I can almost touch it, but I can’t figure it out.”

“You will. These things take time to sort through.” Yana paused. “You’re impatient, Arianna. Driven. Maybe too much so. Sometimes I wonder if Great-Gran and I did the right thing after your parents died. You were still so young, just starting school. Perhaps we should have suspended your training schedule. Broadened your experiences.”

“Like what? Sending me to boarding school or on a grand tour of Europe? In all my spare time.” Ari attempted to introduce a lighter note. When Yana frowned at her flippancy, Ari sighed. “What choice did you have? I was born with the crescent birthmark.” Ari reached down and patted the spot on her right ankle. “Marked by fate. All future guardians enter training as toddlers.”

“Yes, but your mother’s ways were…gentler, I think. And if you had remained with your grandparents and siblings, instead of only visiting on holidays, perhaps they would have balanced your education, made it less severe. But Great-Gran chose to push the guardian skills. The martial arts, the weaponry. And I went along with her wishes.” Yana peered at Ari anxiously. “Your witch skills suffered in the process. And maybe, so did the child inside. Did you feel cheated, my dear?”

“Oh, Yana. What’s brought this on?” Ari reached over and gave her a quick hug. “I never regretted the time I spent with you and Great-Gran.” Seeing Yana wasn’t satisfied with her quick reassurance, Ari drew back and tried to give her a better answer. “I felt cheated of my parents, sure. I was six, and I didn’t understand where they’d gone. And there were times when I’d rather be with Robbie or Sis or go fishing with Grandpa than training. Especially when I didn’t get it right the first time.” Ari remembered the long hours of repetitious practice. The perfection expected by her instructors. Lots of bumps and bruises along the way. Be tough, her Sensei said, and then, be tougher.

Why was Yana dredging up the past? Ari hadn’t thought about the early years and early losses in a long time. Many of those memories she’d rather leave buried.

“There were good things too,” Ari said, smiling now. “You and Great-Gran were always there when I needed you. Spoiled me, I think.” Ari pictured the long walks and the evenings of storytelling. The hugs. Making potions. Baking cookies, or if she remembered right, mostly eating cookies. “I’m surprised you think the witchcraft was neglected. Besides what I picked up from watching Great-Gran, I had four years of witchcraft training.”

“Yes, Moriana taught you the basic skills, but she couldn’t give you your heritage. You must learn to trust your magic, Arianna. Perhaps if you had the Book…” Yana wrinkled her brow, turned her gaze out the window.

Ari shifted, uncomfortable, wishing they’d get off this subject. The family Book of Shadows had been missing since her mother died. All the spells, potions, and magical rituals of generations of Calin witches resided in that one leather-bound volume. Ari had hoped it would return by her witch initiation at age eighteen, but that hadn’t happened. The Book’s absence was a sadness she couldn’t shake. Without it, her witch abilities would always be limited.