Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
We’re both panting and dripping with sweat when we stumble through the door to the cottage.
Fleur raises an eyebrow at our disheveled appearances before flicking her gaze to the nearly set table. “You two had better go get yourselves cleaned up because you won’t be defiling my table looking like that.”
Heat rises in my cheeks and I drop my chin. “Yes, Aunt Fleur.” I shove Tom in the direction of my room and the attached washroom.
I ditch my basket on the bed before I dunk two rags into the basin of cool water and throw one of the soaked towels at Tom, laughing when he misses the catch, and it smacks off his face.
We both make quick work of wiping the dirt and sweat from our exposed skin.
I pull my hair down from its tie and quickly twist it into a single braid that falls down the center of my back.
Walking over to my basket, I pull out the burnt-out candles to discard.
I tuck the tinderbox back into the drawer.
I peer over my shoulder and see Tom still scrubbing at dirt under the collar of his shirt.
With his attention elsewhere, I remove the tome from the basket and wedge it back under my mattress.
“Ready?” Tom’s voice from behind me causes me to jump as I release my grip on the mattress.
I don’t know what it is about the book that makes me nervous for others to see it.
From what I’ve read of it so far, which hasn’t been much yet, it’s some basic Faerie folklore.
It’s where I read about the Fae origins for Samhain.
But it’s just that, folklore. It’s not like it's called A Real and Intensive Account of the History of the Fae. So, there is no reason that I should be sneaking it around the way I am, but the topic of the Fae is almost… taboo? Sure, there are the stories about how they’re these mysterious and mischievous creatures but anything more than that is blasphemous.
And that’s not even to say that anyone believes in them.
Letting out a breath, I spin to face Tom. “Let’s go eat our weight in food.”
His laugh trails after me as I lead the way back out to the kitchen where Fleur is placing the last of the dishes on the table.
“Sit, sit, sit!” Fleur orders, waving her hands at the two of us.
I take my usual seat to the right of Fleur’s at the head of the table. Tom takes the seat opposite me.
My eyes trail the length of the table, taking in everything that Fleur’s prepared.
It’s most of my favorites and some of the other classic Samhain dishes.
It all looks incredible and my mouth waters, taking it all in.
Caramelized honied turnips. Roasted Brussels sprouts.
Smashed potatoes. A perfectly golden, whole roasted chicken.
A tart made with the remaining apples from this season’s harvest. The spices all mingle in the air.
Sage, cinnamon, rosemary. While the holiday itself is a bit solemn in our household, the feast is my favorite part of the year.
Fleur’s even dished out goblets with a warm, spiced red wine.
She really outdid herself this year. I always tell her she doesn’t have to go all out to this extent since it’s all a bit excessive compared to our simple lifestyle, but she insists.
“Wow, Aunt Fleur. This all looks incredible,” I say on a breath.
“Well it had better considering I slaved over it all day,” she harrumphs.
I narrow my eyes at her. “I would’ve helped out, you know.”
She lifts her chin indignantly. “I didn’t need your help. Besides, you would’ve gotten in my way.” She shoots me a wink that lets me know she’s not actually mad.
I laugh, shaking my head as I start to reach for the serving spoons tucked into each dish. I quickly pile my plate with likely more food than I could even imagine eating, but it’s Samhain. What else would I do but overload my plate?
Conversation flows freely like the wine.
Aunt Fleur is doing her best to make nice with Tom even though she’s never been his biggest fan.
She only really puts up with him because she knows he’s my best friend.
I’m glad he dropped the topic of my parents.
I wouldn’t have put it past him to have brought it up at the table but that would’ve caused an all-out war between the two of them.
Fleur is such a strong personality and Tom can be incredibly stubborn when he wants to be and this is something I feel like he’d dig his heels in over.
Today is not the day to try that fight with her, especially with all three of us here.
Maybe I’ll ask her later when we light the candles.
Once my plate is cleared and my head just the right amount of fuzzy from the wine, Tom shoots up and immediately starts helping to clear up. I pick up my plate and walk it over to where Tom is soaking the dishes in the washbasin.
“Thomas, you don’t need to do that,” Fleur says as she joins us at the counter.
“But you cooked. I’d like to make myself useful,” he says, ever the gentleman.
She gives him a smirk knowing he always fusses when she gives him a task. “I mean this with all the kindness in my heart, get out Thomas.”
I can’t help the laugh that barks out of me, only intensifying when I see the shock in Tom’s face and the way his jaw drops open.
“I— yeah, okay, of course. Apologies for overstaying my welcome, Fleur.”
“You didn’t, dear,” she says, patting his shoulder for emphasis. “I’d like to spend some time with my niece before we turn in for the evening.”
Tom dips his chin in a nod. “Sure thing.” He turns to face me with a small smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Absolutely.” I smile back at him. “Have a good night.”
“Appreciate the invitation,” he says in thanks as he walks over to the front door.
“You know you’re always welcome here,” I say.
Aunt Fleur scoffs behind me. “Don’t encourage him, dear.”
We share a conspiratorial smile before he ducks out the door and into the night.
“Shall we?” Fleur asks. I turn to face her and she’s holding a Mullein torch in my direction.
I wrap my hand around the candle and feel that same pang in my chest that I get whenever I think of my parents. The knobby, wax coated stalk in my hand gently soothing that ache. “Yes.”
Fleur grabs our cloaks from the hooks beside the front door and once we’re situated, I follow her out the door and around to the back of the cottage where we have a small plot of open space.
She digs out two little divots into the earth where she stands up our torches, each one meant to represent one of my parents.
I watch as she pinches the wax at the top to create a makeshift wick.
She uses the flame from the small oil lamp she brought with us to light both torches.
Once both are burning strong, she steps back in line next to me.
Her arm stretches out to wrap around my shoulders and pull me into her side.
I stand there against her in a comfortable silence as we both watch the orange flames overtake the torch, the slight warmth kissing our faces and chasing off the evening’s chill.
After a little while spent weighing the words, I finally speak. “Aunt Fleur?”
“Yes, sweet girl?” she whispers, almost like she’s afraid of startling the stillness of the night.
“Will you ever tell me more about my parents?” I can feel the way her body tenses the slightest amount.
I wouldn’t normally notice it if she weren’t holding me at that very moment.
I rush to backpedal, not wanting to completely ruin the evening.
“I’m not asking for you to tell me tonight.
I’m just wondering if there will ever be a time that you’ll finally answer my questions. ”
She’s still and silent for a long moment before she lets out a sigh. “Yes, my dear. There will likely come a day when you will need to know the full story, and I promise you that I will tell you everything and answer your questions when that day comes.”
“How will you know when that’ll be?”
She looks down at me with something like love and grief swirled into one. “I’ll know. And so will you.”
And with that cryptic response, we go back to watching the flames as they burn themselves out.
I gently set the lit oil lamp on my nightstand, providing just enough light for me to make out the words of my book. Anticipation sparks through me as I crack the tome open to where I’d left off previously, the smell of dusty pages fills my senses.
My eyes flick across the pages, reading the words aloud under my breath.
“The term faerie encompasses a vast collection of species that exist in the realm. The most commonly known are the Fae. These beings are the most similar to what you would expect a human to look like, except they’re taller, faster, their senses are heightened, and their ears are pointed…
” I trail off as my fingers trace the shape of the ear on the accompanying image.
It’s a beautiful raven-haired woman that I couldn’t ever see passing as human.
Her beauty alone would cause her to stick out like a sore thumb.
“These Fae also have varying magical abilities rooted in the natural elements. The two strongest families are the ones that rule over the two courts of the realm: the Seelie and the Unseelie. While all Fae are known to be tricksters and mischievous, the Seelie are said to be more benevolent than the Unseelie, their malevolent counterparts.” A shiver runs through me at the thought of the viciousness of the Unseelie.
The image below this section of text shows a circle of grass and foliage with a line slashing through the center.
One half, tinted with a golden hue making the greenery pop and look more lush.
The other is tinged with gray and darkness. The plants more withered.
I skim through the pages. “The Faerie realm isn’t only home to the Fae.
There are also pixies, brownies, selkies, boggarts, and kelpies, among some other more dangerous creatures.
” I flip through, taking in the images of the creatures mentioned, skipping over the more terrifying looking ones.
Some look cute like the pixies, a miniature little creature that could fit in the palm of your hand, some with wings.
I find myself fixated on the kelpies with a feeling of wistfulness.
I imagine the horse-like creature could truly be something beautiful to behold.
I continue to flip through pages, the words swimming across the page as my eyelids begin to grow heavy.