by L. P. Dover
He was laying me on my bed. “Stay here. It will pass.” His words were gentle now, the anger gone.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. He didn’t respond. He leaned over me to straighten the bedding and his face was close to mine. I stared at his mouth and wondered what it would taste like. I felt a sharp pain and then realized I was biting my lip. The thought made me giggle again, but his eyes shot to my face and all amusement ceased.
He stroked my cheek with the back of his hand. “Sleep.”
My dreams were vivid. Crimson curls brushing my cheek and bouncing as a tiny fairy danced across the floor, flitting her painted fingers. Dark stone houses in the night, the glare of fire glinting off the rock. Massive stones rising high above. Dark leather, tight against my skin. Menacing cloaks flowing in the wind, forming a circle and massing together, threatening. Black hair glistening with sweat in the moonlight and rolling in rhythm as the horse ran, its mane rocking hypnotically with the motion. The heavy equine smell, so unlike any other. I was clinging to Chevelle’s strong back as we rode at full speed. The wind and rain cut at my face, my eyes sore, cheeks streaked with tears and ash.
I woke to the sound of laughter. It took several minutes to gather my thoughts enough to know where I was. In a bed ... at Ruby’s. Ruby, the half breed. I was drenched in sweat. My head throbbed. Something had happened to me. Fairy dust, Steed had said. Steed. Yes, he had shown up last night. I heard talking through the open door. He was in the main room. Chevelle’s voice was there, too. My mouth tasted sour. I tried to sit up, but my head spun. Before I’d moved an inch I was back down. My pulse pounded in my head as I struggled to recall what had happened the night before. I hissed out a low oath when I remembered Ruby leaning toward me, blowing her breath in my face.
I opened my eyes again and Chevelle was there, handing me a glass. Gods, what had I said to him? I knew it was bad, but had trouble piecing it all together. I glanced up at him timidly. “Thank you,” I croaked out as I took the glass, my hand trembling.
“Shouldn’t have left you alone,” he said quietly. I heard a light laugh from the front room. Ugh. She was here, too. The water helped. I was able to sit up with Chevelle’s assistance.
“Here, here, a bath will help.” Ruby swirled into the room, dressed in a red frock of sorts. The color hurt my eyes. “Come with me, dear.” Her hair was tied halfway back with a light scarf, the tattered end mingling with crimson curls. I felt dizzy again. She hauled me off the bed, supporting me as I stood, and I realized she was much smaller than I had thought, slipping easily under my arm. I kept my head down as we walked, mostly trying not to get ill, and saw she wore heeled boots. She led me through the main room, and though I knew Steed was there, I couldn’t look up to greet him.
We entered the other door. “A bath?” I asked, confused.
She laughed. “Well, yes. A little cold for lake bathing here.” She led me to a large basin in the corner of the room. Water streamed in from the window and filled it half full. “I’ve laid out some clothes for you and there are some lovely soaps on the table.” She spun and glided out of the room, closing the door behind her.
Lovely soaps, I thought.
I examined the room as I undressed. Her bedroom. A large bed topped with decorated pillows and colorful blankets centered the opposite wall. It was twice the size of the one I’d been using. A tall rack in the corner was draped with material, deep violet and emerald green silks, dark wools, and thin scarves in several patterns. Shelves alongside were filled full with curiosities and a few books lie on the bedside table beside a lantern. I stepped into the tub as light steam rose from the water. It smelled slightly floral. Lavender, I thought as I sank down. I breathed deep; it seemed to be helping, so I closed my eyes and relaxed. The water started to chill several times, but I was hesitant to get out, so I warmed it with fire magic, careful not to over do it and boil myself into a stew.
Finally, I felt well enough to stand. I picked up one of the soaps and washed quickly, then pulled the water from the tub to wash the suds away. I’d not had much opportunity to practice with water and I made a mental note to work on it. I felt refreshed. The soap left a light fragrance in the air—it smelled a little like morning and cold—and I wondered if the fairy dust was still affecting me. I dried off and dressed in the clothes Ruby had left me. They were a little small and I questioned whether they were her cast offs but decided it was unlikely, given how tight and revealing her own wardrobe was. There was another full-length mirror here and I giggled at my reflection. They were not something I’d have chosen for myself. I couldn’t say I looked bad, though. I turned away, still painfully unaccustomed to my new appearance.
Steed let out a long whistle as I entered the main room. Ruby was sitting with him, a warm smile on her face as if we were old friends. Chevelle was near a window on the front wall, leaning on one shoulder, his body turned toward me. He was so hard to read.
“Better?” Ruby asked.
“Yes, thank you.” I was polite, but it burned a little to thank her after what she’d done.
Steed was smiling. “Some night.” He shook his head from side to side, exaggerating the slow movement. He looked like he was trying to keep a secret. I flushed with embarrassment as I remembered climbing in his lap, and again the second time I’d gotten out of bed.
Ruby grinned at him conspiratorially. “Yes, so educational.”
Had I talked in my sleep? Could this get any worse?
Yes, it could. It came back to me then, the worse I’d feared. I dropped in a chair, my head falling into my hands to cover my face. Yes. Much worse.
Ruby started to say something, but Chevelle cut her off. “Won’t you offer your guest breakfast?”
She sniffed. “Lunch maybe.” A plate of food landed on the table in front of me with a slap.
“Thank you,” I managed. I was hungry, despite the horrified embarrassment. I grabbed the plate and started eating.
Ruby and Steed were sitting across from me. She was reclined, her bare legs showing where the material of her skirt was pulled to the side. When I looked up, she resituated herself, leaning toward Steed and talking low about some nonsense. She suggestively walked her fingers up his chest as she talked and looked to me for reaction. She was trying to make me jealous. I was suddenly furious that she wanted to provoke me. She’d poisoned me and now this. It was too much, I wanted to burn her right then and there. I caught Chevelle’s expression as I glared at her. He had seen what she was doing, knew her motives, but I could tell he thought it had worked, he thought I was jealous.
Perfect.
I smelled something odd and glanced down. The meat I was holding had burnt in my hand. I cursed, glancing back to them. Steed was watching me, smiling. Great, now he thought I was jealous, too.
I considered going back to bed and staying there indefinitely. Ruby laughed and it made my hair stand on end. No, I’d stay. She might be our host now, but I’d get my chance, I’d fix her. She leaned slightly away from him and the markings on her leg caught my attention. A thin vine, painted on I assumed, appeared to trail up to her thigh.
She noticed me looking. “Well, Frey, I feel like I know so much about you.” She smiled slyly at Chevelle. “But you know so little of me. Let me tell you a few things, since we will be traveling together.”
I felt my head jerk to find Chevelle, not believing what I had just heard.
Ruby continued, “I’m sure you’ve heard by now I’m an amalgamation, a half breed.” She said the last part with distaste and glanced at Steed before going on. “I will give you a short version of events so when the subject comes up, and do believe me, someone will ask, you are not overcome by curiosity and forced to seek less than honorable venues to discover the facts.”
I ignored the jab at my eavesdropping. “My mother was a power-hungry wench seeking notoriety. She was an element fairy, and like me, sported a fine head of red hair.” She ran her hand under the curls for emphasis. “She heard a story one day of a
mixed-species birth and got it in her head she could breed a more powerful magic. Apparently she thought she could control her offspring and use the magic to her advantage … I suppose she thought she could rule the world.” She smirked.
“She studied various species for a few weeks and decided her best chance at conquest was a dark elf. She made her way to this very village and happened across my father, poor unsuspecting sap.”
She flitted her fingers and glasses came out, stopping in front of each of us. She continued as wine followed and filled each glass, “So, there he was and she, just a wisp of a woman, flew up to him in her best seduction and blew a little fairy dust … well, you know about that.”
I narrowed my eyes at her.
She grinned. “He was putty in her hands. It was all over before he even knew her purpose. She kept him under her enchantments and lies as long as she could. She thought she was safe hiding here in the village but, as you know, an elf birth is a hefty event. Upon the hour of my birth, the entire village had gathered to see the new elf—at my father’s request, of course. Can you imagine the shock when they found my mother was his intended?”
She laughed, but her audience was quiet. Chevelle wore an extremely uncomfortable expression as he turned to watch out the front window.
“Needless to say, it did not go as she had planned. At her death, my father was released from her bonds. He was horrified at what he had done, at what had been done to him. But he hadn’t the heart to destroy his crop. He simply left.”
I actually felt bad for her, but her eyes were dry and clear. I wondered how many times she’d told this story.
“I hear he wanders the mountain. Probably killing fairies,” she said. She laughed again and this time it sounded like genuine humor. The tension in the room eased a bit.
“Ruby.” Chevelle’s tone was respectful as he turned from the window.
“They’re here?” she asked. He nodded and she rose gracefully from her seat. “Well, looks like we have some gathering to do. We can finish this later.” She smiled at me as she followed Chevelle out the door.
Chapter Ten
Summit
Steed sat across from me, quiet. “Seems so sad,” I said. I was thinking of Chevelle’s loss, of my own, and now of Ruby’s. How could we all be without family? “Your mother ...” I asked him, trailing off.
He sighed. “My mother died years ago, with a large part of the northern clans.” I cringed as understanding washed through me. His mother had died because of my mother. The same as Chevelle.
I was almost afraid to ask, “And your father?”
He smiled. “My father wanders the mountain … killing fairies.”
I gasped. Impossible. “You mean Ruby, she’s your sister?” Disbelief was clear in my voice.
“Half-sister,” he emphasized. He let me roll that around for a while before he spoke again. “You know, Ruby told me she’d had dealings with the infamous Chevelle Vattier, but I didn’t believe her. One can never believe the tales of a fairy.”
Infamous?
“Imagine my surprise when he walked out of the trees, following a green-eyed beauty.” He smiled at the memory, but quickly turned serious. “When I ran into the trackers,” he hesitated at the use of the word, “I had only hope Ruby had told the truth and might know where to find you.” He laughed. “She tried to hide you, but I recognized the horses out front.”
“She tried to hide us?”
“Ah, yes. Fairies are full of treacheries and wickedness. Always meddling in the affairs of others, causing trouble whenever possible. They have quite a time. At least Red’s only half wicked.” He smiled again.
His sister. I was still trying to wrap my head around it all.
“Don’t worry, she’s had her fun with you. She’ll be helpful now.” He grinned and I wasn’t sure if he was being sarcastic. “Besides, sounds like you’re the biggest trouble going. She’d do well to stick around you.” I frowned. “I’ll keep an eye on her,” he promised.
“You?” I remembered what she’d said. “You’re traveling with us?”
“You don’t mind, do you?”
“No, of course not,” I gushed. It was too eager, so I explained, “Chevelle’s been training me.” I could hear the distaste in my voice.
“Well, we can certainly help with that.”
I grimaced at the thought of Ruby’s training methods.
“Don’t fret. She’s actually very talented.” His smile warmed. “An asset, you’ll see.” An asset?
Ruby came through the door, almost whirling. “Come on, Steed. We need to set you up outside of town. Chevelle is afraid we are causing a scene in the village.” She laughed a little. It seemed like she was having fun, I wondered if that meant she was causing trouble. “Don’t think he trusts you with the girl.” She smiled playfully at him.
“I prefer the outdoors anyway.” He dipped toward me, his hand folding his waist as he stood to go. “My lady.”
My head began to pound again, thoughts swirling in confusion. His sister? Traveling with us. An asset? I leaned forward, placing my head between my knees.
“Are you ill?” Chevelle asked from beside me. I hadn’t even heard him come in. He was sitting forward on the bench next to me, and when I sat up in surprise, it put us too close. I tottered and he steadied me, but didn’t move away.
He leaned closer. “You smell … like morning.” My face heated as he lingered there for a moment, breathing in the scent.
“Ruby,” I said. He looked confused. “Soap.”
I had been reduced to one-word sentences.
“Oh,” he nodded as he leaned back, “she does have a way with potions.”
“I enjoy the mixing,” she said, startling me as she entered the house again. “But not to worry, I keep it contained to elements and minerals, no breeding. I leave that to Steed.” She laughed at her own words as she passed us on the way to her room. I found myself reevaluating her now that I knew she was Steed’s sister.
Chevelle noticed me watching her. “Do you mind staying with Ru–” My expression cut off his sentence. He explained, “I have some business to take care of outside of town. She has given me her word, she will behave.” He looked at her as he spoke the last part, a warning.
She replied from the open door of her room, “Yes, yes. No naughtiness.” And then, under her breath, “On my part.”
“No qualifications, Ruby.”
“Just teasing. Now, go, we have stuff to do.” My stomach knotted. Stuff.
Chevelle appeared reluctant to get up. I thought he might reach out to me, but he just stood and left. Ugh, why did he have to hate me?
Ruby whirled into the room and grabbed me around the waist from behind, spinning me up, over the back of the seat, and through the door before I could process what was happening. She plopped me down in the center of her bed and swung around to sit in front of me. My head was still reeling from the spins as she smiled at me, waving her hands and bringing a plethora of bottles and canisters flying toward us to drop on the bed. I thought, with disappointment, that I hadn’t responded to her attack as Chevelle had taught me and laughed quietly at the image in my head. Ruby took the laughter as approval for her plans and gave me a genuine smile as she began twisting the lid on a small metal canister.
“No mother to teach us the tricks of the trade,” she sighed as she leaned in.
I jerked away from her, wanting to be angry about the comment, but couldn't think of a response given that her own story was so tragic.
She mistook my reaction, “Oh, don’t be ridiculous. I wouldn’t play the same design twice.”
I relaxed a little.
“Besides, I will let you in on a little secret … the fairy’s breath isn’t really breath. Can you imagine if it were, why, everywhere we go we’d be causing a terrible ruckus. It’s a blend is all. We keep it in a tiny capsule in our cheek and when we need it …” She chomped her teeth together with a click, and held a finger to her lips to protect th
e secret. “Old family recipe, you see. My mother left a diary.” She smiled, thoughtful. “Ah, what a thing, a mother’s diary.”
I wondered if she was returning to her conversation any time soon.
Her eyes flicked back to me from her reverie. “It was very fortunate for me she’d kept a journal, you see, for I would have no fairy knowledge without it.”
I felt my brows draw together and tried to smooth my face.
“No, don’t feel bad for me. With you in such a position.” I didn’t know what she meant, but she continued, “And my dear brother has been there for me all along, helping me with the elf parts.”
She kept talking as she leaned forward, seemingly unaware I'd not spoken a word in response. Not that she’d given me the opportunity. I contemplated whether this was her usual behavior toward strangers or if she felt we had a special “motherless” bond. She ran her finger through the substance in the canister and it came out coated in a deep, dark green that had the consistency of grease, which she smeared across the base of my eyelid. She continued rambling as she coated various parts of my body with lotions and powders, smoothed my hair with a sweet scented cream, painted my lips with a soft balm that smelled of spice.
After she ran out of areas to work with, she opened a tall glass container with black liquid inside and dipped a cut braid of hair into the bottle. She drew it out and used the tip to brush an intricate design on the inside of my wrist. When she was finished, she leaned over and blew gently on the paint. Or ink? I was anxious to see the finished work, so I waited impatiently for her to raise her head again and hoped whatever it was wasn’t permanent.