It felt strange to cross the border.
As far as rivalries, the deep rooted one of Devon versus Cornwall was still raging. Erika didn't even really know why but she knew it went beyond the kerfuffle of whether cream or jam went on top of a scone and in what order; afternoon tea was a big deal this far south.
It was another sparkling early summer evening. As Erika walked, the scent of sea water and fish and chips caught in the breeze from the harbour front and she took deep lungfulls of the aroma. Since moving to London, she'd forgotten the sound of seagulls and children's laughter and the taste of ice cream that didn't cost a fortune. The tall young woman was Cornwall born and bred. Raised in a tiny fishing village, she soon outgrew the place but it would always be home to her, no matter how far she strayed. Around her, the sun was setting. The sea sparkled like diamonds and birds crowed overhead and she inhaled deeply and smiled.
Things were never this vivid in London.
London was very…drab. Muted colours and tones of grey and beige. There had been a handful of times over the past few months where she'd been so close to giving up and moving home. She wanted ramshackle cottage on the beach. She wanted peace and quiet. She'd adopted a Wiemaraner puppy not long ago and she thought he'd much prefer a beach to a soggy old park for his daily runs. But that wasn't important. What was important was Maia.
It had been a long time since they'd spent any time together. They were sort of colleagues once upon a time but as of late, they were much more like friends. Despite being surrounded by aunties and cousins, Erika would much rather spill her guts to her auburn-haired companion. Maia, in her strange and ethereal beauty, never seemed to mind when they met up for coffee and Erika sobbed into her chocolate muffins. Since there had been a Murphy-shaped whole in her life, her love life had gone to shite.
Which was why she came bearing gifts. The curse breaker had not long come back from Cambodia. She'd brought back tonnes of ancient and rare things but to her dismay, most were not made from goblin gold. As a result, the little gobshites decided not to take them off her hands which left her with a crate full of Buddha statues, swords and little bits and pieces. It was more of a thank you, really. She'd been a pillar of strength.
Erika had taken her time to pick through the artefacts, like an overly keen magpie. She wanted to make sure that she was offering things that Maia would actually like. To her, the ward maker was very gold and glittery. She was very like a Devon sunset, which is why she was unsurprised that she'd made Combe Martin her home. It was beautiful, with clean beaches and crystalline water and cute little winding and bending streets.
With her hair pulled back into a ponytail, the still-warm sea breeze caught the hem of her lightweight baby blue dress, the soles of her trainers easily managing the cobbled lane that lead to Maia's home. In her right hand was a small box of treasures and in her left, her slim fingers clasped a bottle of prosecco. It was pretty much a girl's night in now. Due to the time they'd spent apart, she hadn't even met Maia's new boyfriend. Well, she supposed he wasn't really "new" but she still wanted to hear all about him. She also had an ulterior motive.
Around her slender neck was a beautiful golden necklace. It was dainty and lovely, an intricate filigree chain that caught the light exquisitely. It had been a gift from Murphy when they first started dating and she'd kept it. She'd always loved it. It was obviously handmade and expensive, from the numerous swirls and loops in it to the finely cut leaves and the weight of the metal. Even to this day, it had been the most stunning and thoughtful thing anyone had ever bought her but lately, it was acting strangely. There was a small and cute golden leaf pendant attached to the chain and on the underside, there were tiny little carved details, looking almost like Sanskrit mixed with hieroglyphs.
Erika had studied many cultures but she couldn't understand what the symbols meant or if they even meant anything at all. Maybe they were just hallmarks or dents, who knew? Lately though, the necklace felt warm. The clasp often stuck, meaning Erika couldn't even remove it and she often called Lulu for help to wrench it off her neck, like it was anchored to her skin. Last week, she could have sworn she'd seen it glow. If anyone would know if it was strange, it'd be Maia. With that, Erika knocked on her front door.
