Chapter 2 #2
The king’s elven servant would arrive any minute to accept our offering. It was always the same fiercely beautiful female. I listened for the doorbell, even as a new dread filled my thoughts. My baking was good, almost too good.
What if they took my mother?
I closed my eyes and pulled in a shaking breath. Why hadn’t I thought to make my baking less desirable? I’d reserved the best goods we had to offer.
I cursed myself for my naivety as the sharp, unmistakable chime of the bell pricked my ears.
I jumped up as the front door swung open, filling the bakery with the rowdy adulations of the villagers outside.
Everyone was so quick to forget their fear, their unease, as soon as they saw the beauty of the elves. It was the same every year.
The king’s servant’s boots barely made a sound as she entered the bakery. The celebrations outside were muffled with a thud as the door shut with finality.
Daisy and I shared twin grimaces as we snuck over to the window that overlooked the shop and peered in.
There she stood, blonde hair woven in intricate braids, gemstones interlaced with the incredibly soft looking strands.
The king’s servant wore a forest-green tunic and tight, leathery leggings.
Pants on a female? It was unheard of in the village, but the elves were a curious lot.
Her black leather boots tapped a confident rhythm on the worn wood floors.
She wore an artfully crafted sword with a sense of familiarity.
It was clear she knew her weapon and how to use it.
The king’s servant bowed to my mother. “Well met.”
“Well met.” My mother said with a deep bow. “I have an offering for your king and peoples made with good will.”
“It is well received.” Her voice rang in a musical chime that was somehow sharp and tinted with venom.
This was the same exchange I’d witnessed for years. My mother would hand the female the basket, they’d bow again, and the elf would leave. We’d all sigh in relief, then we’d head out to the Moon Forest and collect our Christmas tree.
But the servant did not leave with her basket.
She stood as straight as an arrow and spoke with that tinted voice.
“I have good tidings. Your daughter has been found worthy of the honor of being selected as one of our special craftsmen. She will live among the elves in the Undying Lands of Ravensong for the rest of her long and blessed days. She will have an hour to gather her supplies, then meet us in the square for our departure.”
Daisy? They were going to take Daisy away? I held my little sister close to my bosom, her blonde hair tickling my chin.
“You—” Mother sputtered. “You are mistaken. My daughter cannot be a craftsman. She is not four years old.”
A wide smile touched the elf’s pink lips even as her eyes flashed. “I do not refer to your youngest daughter, but to your eldest. She is the baker of these confections, is she not?”
“She is n—I don’t understand.” Mother’s face blotched with red. “I have a son. You may see for yourself.”
“You do not have a son, but a daughter,” the female clipped. “Congratulations. Your family will be compensated well for your generosity. You shall want for nothing.”
My mother’s stubborn pride kindled. She raised her chin and narrowed her eyes in defiance. “You may not have him.”
My stomach dropped. No one refused the call. The elves possessed dark magic. They could curse us all in unthinkable ways. But in the end, it was never fear, but greed that made refusal impossible. The families who stayed behind were given enough gemstones to remain wealthy for generations.
A smirk lit upon the elf servant’s lips for only a blink. “You may not refuse our fine offer. You and your younger daughter will receive one hundred diamond chips a year for five years for your sacrifice. Your eldest daughter—”
“My son!”
Another smirk, this one more forced. “Your daughter will receive a life of riches and comforts in The Undying Lands of Ravensong. You have my word.”
“I know what you will do.” Mother spat. “You will take my child and do with them what you will, then you will discard them as soon as your lusts are sated.”
“That is not the way of the elves.” The servant’s smile fell, her golden eyes growing brighter. “Our way is the old way. Your daughter will have comfort and riches. Purpose. This is my bonded word.”
“You cannot have my child!” Mother growled like a cornered wolf. “I would not give her to you, even if you were the Elf King himself.”
Mother spoke blasphemy. She would be punished.
Killed. One did not speak to the fair folk with such disrespect.
Would the female turn mother into a toad?
Burn down our home, taking the bakery with it?
I held on to Daisy, perhaps a little too tightly, as she buried her shaking head into me. What must I do?
“Perhaps you desire I take your younger daughter instead?” The elf servant said, eyes like cold gold shards. “The king will have what he desires.”
No. I could cower in fear no longer. I pushed Daisy behind the large sack of flour. “Stay here,” I commanded, then ran into the bakery before another word could be said.
I fell to the floor before the servant and bowed my head in quiet submission, though my cheeks flushed and my heart pounded wildly. Several long brown curls tumbled from underneath my hat. “Please speak no more, Mother. I will go. Willingly. Please leave my sister out of this.”
“Do you see?” Mother was only bolstered. “This is my son. I do not have an older daughter. I lost a husband. I will not lose a son. Now go and tell your master, the cursed Elf King, there is no way he will take my child from me.”
I kept my eyes on the floor, not daring to raise my face when a bright lightning flash speared through the room followed by a cold, deep voice. It rumbled in the small bakery causing the very glass windows to tremble. “Tell me yourself, woman.”
I scrambled back from the large brown boots before me.
Where the female had stood so stoic and cold now loomed a tall, deadly bright, and unnaturally beautiful male.
He wore a forest-green cloak about his shoulders that cascaded to the floor.
Clasped about his throat was a golden antler charm.
His cream tunic and pants were embroidered with a brilliant gold filigree.
Snow white hair stretched from his crowned head down the middle of his back.
His lips were full and beautiful, even stretched as they were in a snarl.
Thick white eyebrows rimmed his startlingly golden gemstone eyes.
Eyes like molten fire. Like the elf servant’s and someone else I’d seen recently…
“You cannot have my daughter as some kind of maiden for you to satisfy your lusts.” Mother growled angrily.
The Elf King sneered at my mother as I cowered before him.
“As if I were interested in her beauty?” The Elf King’s cruel laugh cut through the thick air like a hot knife through butter.
“No, your daughter fed me a rich pastry this morning.” He grasped my chin, his fingers surprisingly warm, sending a shiver down my spine.
He forced my face up to meet his hateful eyes as I somehow managed to stand.
The Elf King stood well over a head taller than I.
I had to throw my head back in order to look him in the eyes. “It was rather good. I desire more.”
“I—” I sputtered as I stood on wobbly legs.
I would have remembered serving the Elf King a cinnamon roll.
But as I stared into the king’s brilliant gold eyes, I knew without a doubt where I’d seen those gems before.
The king must be a shapeshifter, for that young boy I fed this morning?
He was undoubtedly the Elf King in disguise.
I’d heard of the elves’ dark magic. Their stories were woven into the fairytales mothers told us at night to frighten us away from going into the forest alone.
I ripped my chin from the Elf King’s grasp and met his eyes, narrowing my own. “You trashed my kitchen.”
A smile touched the king’s mouth, one that did not reach his molten eyes. “Your mother will be able to afford a servant to clean it properly from now on. We leave at the top of the hour. Be at the square, or I shall take your sister as punishment.”
And with that the Elf King turned and stalked from the bakery, leaving mother and me gaping after.