Chapter 28 #2
The owner of the voice turned out to be a toddy. He scowled at me.
“Sorry.” I stepped back.
He shoved past me and fell onto the couch.
A few high fae at the other end of the room glanced over but didn’t say anything.
Beside them, a terrifying creature with the head and upper body of a bison stared at me without blinking.
When I crossed the space toward the remaining open corner, his gaze followed, so instead, I walked right past the chairs and back through the arch to court, trying not to run as the hair on my neck prickled.
Circling the banquet again, I loitered until my feet hurt. One of the long tables held scattered fae, but no obvious groups, so I lifted my chin and strode toward it, acting like I belonged there.
Right before my butt settled into a wooden chair at the table, though, a sweet feminine voice asked, “What’ll you give me for that spot?”
Glancing up, I froze. Her voice didn’t match her form at all. An ugly sharp brown beak took over her face, nearly as long as my forearm. Her beady black eyes blinked at me, waiting.
“Um . . . excuse me?”
“The seat,” she snapped now. The disconnect between sounding like a high school cheerleader but looking like a hag made me blink owlishly at her instead of responding.
“Do you normally find it acceptable to rest beside someone without permission? I expect you to bargain for it.”
“Oh . . . I—” Have no idea what to say. I hovered over the chair in a weird limbo.
Lore’s face unexpectedly popped into view as she dropped her elbows onto the high table. The shimmery silver sleeves of her dress nearly dragged through a half-eaten plate of food. “What did I miss?”
I glanced between her and the hag, who stuck her long beak in the air and tossed a grape up, catching it with a sharp snap that made me flinch.
“Not much. Just waiting for my name to be called.”
“Aren’t you going to sit?” Lore asked after a beat of silence.
Inch by inch, I lowered myself into the seat.
The hag sniffed, but she turned her back on me and didn’t say anything.
“You have really good timing,” I whispered to Lore with a relieved smile.
She grinned back. “I’ve been told that before, actually.” Then she gave me a cheerful wave. “See you later.”
Startled, I called out, “Bye,” to her retreating back.
That was odd.
An hour passed in uncomfortable silence between myself and the hag.
Both individual petitioners as well as groups approached the thrones, some quick while others took what felt like forever, until the musicians unexpectedly stopped playing. Nearby fae turned to watch as all three royals swept down the stairs and out of the room.
Now what?
Were they taking lunch? Did I wait until they came back? Or was this one of those one-to-four-days-later situations?
A lumbering gait shook the ground behind me. I tensed.
The bison-headed fae slammed into the seat at the other end of the table. Miss Don’t-Be-Rude acted like someone had called her name. Waving a hand, the hag called a delicate, “Be right there.”
And without wasting another second, she waltzed off, leaving me alone with a new terror.
This huge creature turned its head sideways to stare at me with one of those beady black eyes.
My heart stuttered as I pretended not to notice.
Would it talk or charge? And was one really better than the other? I debated making a run for it . . .
“Oh, Brynn, there you are!” Julian scooped me up from my chair by the elbow before I fully registered his voice. “I’ve been looking all over for you!”
My knees wobbled in relief. “You have?”
He’d gotten me over a dozen feet away before he let go, but I grabbed his elbow. “Please don’t leave!”
“Don’t let the wild ones scare you.” He patted my hand reassuringly and let me hold on. With a congenial smile at the goat-horned attendant, who glared back at us, he added under his breath, “That said, also don’t look them in the eye. It draws their attention.”
Had I done that? “Got it. And what if I . . . already drew some attention?”
He laughed, stopping to survey one of the buffet tables with a steaming tray of thinly sliced dark meat, scooping up a plate. “It should move on in a bit, don’t worry. They have short attention spans.”
Don’t worry. Ha! I wanted to scoff but held it in because I wanted his protection more.
Easy for him to say. He didn’t have a freaking bison stalker.
Or maybe it was actually a buffalo—what if I’d somehow offended it by calling it the wrong thing?
Don’t be ridiculous, Brynn. You never said the name out loud.
Occupied by these foolish thoughts, I missed whatever Julian had been saying. “Sorry, what?”
“I asked if you’ve eaten.” He held out a clean plate and wiggled it in front of me. “Do you want to join me while you wait?”
“Can we sit far away from here?”
His eyes twinkled. “We can sit anywhere you’d like.”
I snatched the plate from his hands. “Then yes, please!”
We stumbled into Peregrin at the next table, which held bread and cheeses, and he joined us for a very late lunch as loud bells chimed twice. Two o’clock? I couldn’t risk turning my phone on to check.
Though I tried to keep an eye on the royal entrance, I worried that I might not see them come back.
“You won’t miss them,” Julian assured me when I brought up my concerns.
“They like to be announced,” Peregrin added, wiggling his thick eyebrows, making me laugh. Each time I interacted with him, despite the ram horns, he struck me as the most normal of the group.
When Julian had to go, Peregrin stuck around to keep me company. After another hour passed, he stood. “It’s my turn to watch the south entrance. We take turns so that no one is tied to the post, including Soren.”
“I understand.” I smiled wide so he wouldn’t know I was freaking out internally.
Unfortunately, less than fifteen minutes later, as I took my glass to refill my drink, another strange fae creature stalked directly toward me with a menacing growl.
He looked like an actual tree trunk, wearing only a loin cloth covering who knew what.
His full head of leaves swung dangerously close to a passing fae, but he didn’t slow.
My heart rate picked up, skin growing clammy. Muscles bunching, I got ready to run. I’d knock over a chair between us and aim for the crowds and hope it was enough to lose him.