Heart of the Fae (The Otherworld #1)(41)

She hoped, someday, they might walk without the glamour in place. Their fear was warranted. Humans didn't react well to strange creatures. Sorcha refused to believe she would recoil from their appearances.

That would require she stay. She shook herself. Staying on this island wasn’t a part of the plan, and she had to believe the Tuatha dé Danann would at least listen. Her journey was of great importance. He had to see reason.

“Pixie?” she called out. “Where is your master today?”

“Training in the yard, I would suspect. That’s where he usually is.”

“Training?”

“Oh yes,” Pixie said as she returned. She held a pale green gown in her hands, the swath of fabric nearly touching the floor. “He’s a very impressive warrior, although I’ll let him tell you those stories. I believe this will look lovely with that hair of yours.”

She reached out and traced a finger across the dress. Velvet, the material of nobility.

“I cannot wear this,” Sorcha said. “I’ll ruin it.”

“No one else is wearing it. You might as well ruin it or the moths will.”

Yearning flooded through her, sparkling at the ends of her fingertips and she reached for the gown. She’d never worn such fine fabric before. Though the brothel prided itself on high class women, the velvets were saved for her sisters when important clients came to visit. Sorcha had always worn wool and cotton.

Her fingers trailed over the fabric, pulling it into her arms. “Thank you.”

“I enjoy decorating pretty things, dearie. Now put that on, and we’ll get you some food.”

Sorcha dragged the dress over her head and tied the towel along the wet length of her hair. Someone had set up a feast on the table. Fresh fruit, vegetables, lettuce, and bread overflowed their bowls. A jug of cold water sat within easy reach.

She fell onto her seat and stared in disbelief. “This is for me?”

“Well it’s not much,” Pixie sniffed. “But it must do for now.”

“This is more than I ever would have asked for! You should have sent me on my way with an apple.”

“We have better hospitality than that. Eat up.”

Sorcha shoveled food into her mouth and gulped glass after glass of water. Her stomach could rebel later, it didn’t matter. This was more food than she’d seen in weeks and the water tasted like the first snowfall.

When her belly ached and her throat closed at the thought of more, she pushed her plate back and sighed.

“I hate to be more of a bother,” she began, “but do you have extra flour and butter? I’d like to make bread for Boggart, but have no supplies.”

“For Boggart?” Pixie repeated. “Brownies prefer honey, dearie.”

“She’s not a brownie anymore and seemed very excited about bread.”

“Well, that hut has a kitchen… All right. We’ll give you enough to stock your kitchen and then you won’t be a bother here.”

The faeries filled her arms with everything she could need. So much food that Sorcha needed a pack which was quickly produced and stuffed to the brim.

They were kind and gracious almost to the point of suspicion. Sorcha’s brows drew together as she left the kitchen with a shaking head. It made little sense for them to change their minds so quickly. One day they were invisible, and the next, they were making friends? It all seemed rather odd.

“What are you doing here?” The grumpy voice was familiar.

Sorcha turned and met the gaze of Cian, the gnome. Not the glamoured human, not the invisible voice, but the short, squat gnome. Rolls of fat poured into the vague shape of a face. Two eyes, a nose, and a wide split mouth on pasty pale skin, all underneath the wide brim of a brown hat. He had shoved himself into clothing, buttons threatening to pop off under the stress. He wore no shoes because his toenails were so long they curled into the ground.

“Cian,” she said with a hesitant nod.

“You don’t even have the good sense to run screaming?”

“I have your name, why would I scream?”

“Gnomes are frightening creatures. We used to eat humans.”

“‘Used to’ is the operative phrase there I imagine,” she said as she nudged the fence gate open with her hip. “Thank you for reminding me that not everyone here is as kind as the faeries in the kitchen.”

“Brownies. They always want to take care of something. They’ll smother you to death if you let them!”

She had come to the same conclusion. The gate slammed shut behind her and she skirted back down the lane towards the hag’s hut.

The faeries were kind, but almost too kind. She didn’t remember the stories about brownies, but fully intended to put Boggart to good use. Plying someone with bread for information was easy enough though perhaps devious.

It would work out best for them both in the long run. She needed more information, and Boggart was the perfect person to ask.





Chapter Six





THE DINNER





“She asked for what?” Eamonn’s voice echoed in his chamber.

“The ingredients for bread, master.”

“She didn’t ask for the bread itself?”

“No. She said she wanted to bake the bread for Bronagh herself.”