Ali walked along the cracked and stained tiles of the pavement sidewalk, people moved in and out of shops, cafés and restaurants while bundling up and trying to keep warm but for some Europeans living in the area hanging around outside and posturing like it's summer was normal for them in the colder weather.

During the winter months in London foot traffic was much lighter, people sometimes hopped in and out of buses then disembarked after just one stop to keep warm. Ali found that maddening, moving around would be better in her opinion especially if it was close by.

The winds kicked up hard at times, it felt almost like a physical blow getting a body slap with an icy blanket.

Ali watched as most people tightened their grips on their clothes as the wind picked up and their bodies hunched into themselves to keep the warmth in until it died down.

Ali continued watching people as they passed by or she slipped between them, some in groups outside shops smoking, while others rushed to get into the small supermarkers, Ali walked on at a brisk pace, keeping an eye out at every corner, getting run over by a bicycle was not in her plans for today nor was stepping into a wet patch that had frozen over.

Walking London's streets was at first a necessity, then after a few weeks of getting used to moving at her own pace it became a way to exercise and relax.

The fact that it let her avoid any unexpected incidents that bus or car travel would incur was a boon,

traveling by train was a risk but one that happened several times while she was sleeping and before she realized what was going on or that she might have been the cause by the time she worked it out.

People on the trains with her were frightened at first but no one had been injured so far and public relations for the train company had to get involved at one point but now after so much time passed people only seemed to care that they'd missed stops or didn't catch the train.

The funny part was that more people started riding trains again just in case what happened wasn't just the trains to Cornwall that experienced such an oddity.

Ali kept a good pace even with the crowded crosswalks, traffic lights that didn't want to change and cars trying to make it through roads before pedestrians could step onto the streets.

Most people living in London would have the cities' sounds muted in the background but after the last few days, every distant siren made her turn in that sound's direction.

Ali's nerves were affecting her, even her reflection in the glass doors, windows and even puddles of water felt oddly jarring, she'd paused a few times to inspect herself, finding nothing of note but the few leaves that were caugcollarht on her coat and an out of place collar.

The weird feeling continued to persist making her speed up her already hectic pace, which had people watching in awe, one man asked "Where's the fire love?" But at her pace she was well around the corner before she could even reply.

Ali knew she'd arrived at her destination ahead of the appointex time when the sign, Ye Old Rumshop came into view. The pub which was located next to a wonderful smelling bakery called Ye Old Breadshop, both places were owned and operated by the same group, The Cords.

"Lots of creativity with the naming." Ali said crossing the road as she got a good blast of the warm smell of freshly baked bread, with every customer coming in or going out of the bakery having eaten some of the pastries she could understand why especially in the cold business was good.

Having time to spare she considered going in and getting one of their specialties, a coconut laced turnover or one of their flaky current slices which in certain parts was called Flies' graveyard in the glass door she smiled at the thought but left to get her meeting over and finished.

The reflection hung on the door an instant longer before following still smiling but with more teeth.

----------------------

Ye Old Rumshop was fast becoming a cornerstone of the neighborhood to some people even though it was hadn't been opened for more than ten years before that a newspaper was there, Ali walked past the vacant outdoor seating, pulling the brass door handle she entered the pub, it was not full but with lunch coming up and it having spiced foods and drink it was now starting to crowd for lunch.

The last few times she had come here and a few other places around London it was for information about her own interests, that's how she found out about magic in the world and faries but this was the first time they called her for a meeting.

'Hopefully this is just about an order from the farm.'

Ali thought remembering that she had mentioned her cider and whiskey to the owners as way of a gift for any information on the tooth fairies and magic, when an attractive young woman that looked of eastern European decent dressed in a black woolen suit without the jacket with a gold and blue striped vest and tie, formal met her at the door. "Welcome to Ye Old Rumshop, I'm Genny how can I help you?"

"Hello Genny, I'm Alice Thornhill, I have a meeting with the owners." Ali said taking a second look around the cosy room, the bar was just to one side after you entered the room with extra walking space between them, the varnished wooden tables and the small stage off to the side.

Ali could smell a curry dish getting prepared from the door leading to the kitchen, she had a good breakfast before she'd left home, so the smell while tempting, could wait until after she spoke to the Cords.

Genny smiled while smoothly pointing at the farthest table where three stunning women chatted, two of the three were blonde and the third had short black hair they sat in a curved couch near the stage. "The owners are already there and will see you now."

"I thought the Barbadian bloke that I spoke with before was the owner."

Ali mumbled as she she walked over to the table, all three women could easily be fitness models, the tallest one at the table she had met before but didn't think that the person who was the owner of a Caribbean pub would be the tall, blonde, amazon built like a brick house in a tailored business suit that didn't hide the curves. The probably thirty-something woman Ali thought was the lawyer, girlfriend or wife of the younger black man from the Caribbean who she had met before for information.

"Katherine Web."

The tallest blonde rose to greet Ali with a handshake, "its good to see you again, thank you for coming to this meeting. We asked you here for this.... meal for two reasons, the first is to have a discussion about selling your products here as a show of support and solidarity for your business. An associate living in Cornwall told us what almost happened to your farm and the other to put it bluntly is so we all can get a few answers about why you were burning magic near central London like it was Guy Fawkes day. I'll let Jamal start us off." The person Katherine nodded to was standing right behind Ali

he held up a metal tray with an open paper box of still sizzling golden brown pastries the size of golf balls that smelled of pepper and fish.

"Sorry, about Kate using the stick and the carrot approach to a simple lunch chat."

Jamal adjusted his glasses with one hand as he presented the contents of tray to Ali while looking at her face, the growing apprehension and worry were even visible in her reflection on the tray before Jamal offered her the snack.

"Hi, Ali. Good to see you again, it's been a while, so your companion finally woke up mmmmm?..... fish cake?"