Chapter Nineteen #3
He pointed to one bottle with a slender finger, his nail tipped with a diamond.
“This one holds sadness.” Another. “Joy.” Another.
“Regret.” He picked up one and spun it so the colored glass sparkled as it caught the moonlight.
“This is the distilled essence of the moment a mother sees her child for the very first time.” He placed it down carefully and lifted another. “And this is the flush of first love.”
“You’re selling emotions?” Calisa asked. She wanted to ask how that was possible. Also, what were you supposed to do with it? She studied the bottle of first love. “Is this, like, a love potion? If you want someone to love you?”
He blanched. “Never!”
The harpist paused, her fingers raised over the strings, and the music instantly vanished, like a stolen breath. Calisa felt an ache, as if she’d misplaced something important.
Jack jumped in quickly. “We didn’t mean any offense.”
“Our potions would never control another,” the vendor said indignantly. “No, these are for communication. They are for understanding. For empathy. Choose the one that matches your emotion, and when your loved one drinks it, they will know how you feel on a visceral level.”
Wow, that was…She didn’t know what that was.
She thought of Mulligan. It was his idea to bring two slices of chocolate cake. Could he add this potion to his hot chocolate? “How about one that captures how much you miss someone?”
“Ah, yes, a variation on regret with a strong dollop of hope and longing.” His fingers danced above the bottles until he selected one in purple glass. “You’ll want this one. Be warned: it’s very strong and can momentarily overwhelm all else.”
“It’s perfect.”
“For payment…” the vendor began.
Calisa turned to Jack. “You said we had a spare slice?”
Jack opened his backpack. “We offer this as payment,” he said solemnly. With a flourish, he lifted the lid on the Tupperware, and the thick, sweet smell of chocolate wafted out.
Both the vendor and the musician ogled the cake. “Done,” the vendor said swiftly. He smiled as he wrapped the vial in a bit of fabric and tied a ribbon around it.
Calisa pocketed the vial, while Jack handed over the slice of chocolate cake. The vendor breathed it in and sighed happily, and the harpist leaned over to ask for a taste.
Moving on, Calisa and Jack soon reached the fifth row.
As they approached the baker’s stall, Rin called to them, “My friends from Auntie Zee! What a delight to see you, a timely delight!” Standing beside him were two women, both drenched in jewels. Calisa and Jack trotted over.
Calisa’s first thought was: They have news of Auntie Zee!
Her second thought was: They’re not human.
Smiling widely, Rin boomed, “Calisa, Jack, it’s my honor to introduce you to the queens of Irisday. Your Majesties, these are the representatives of the charming bed-and-breakfast that I was telling you about.”
Queens?
Calisa stared at them.
Both were thin and tall, but in a stretched way—their faces, their necks, their arms all looked too long, and their eyes were too wide and glowed a radioactive green.
Their ears tapered into points, like the harpist’s, but on them, it looked unnatural.
Everything about them was unsettling, especially the way they were staring at Calisa and Jack.
“Fae,” Jack breathed beside her. “Be careful.”
Calisa wasn’t sure if she was supposed to bow, curtsy, or shake hands. She settled for an awkward bow with a smile and hoped she hadn’t offended the clearly not-human women. The portal magic ensured there wouldn’t be a language problem, but it didn’t translate customs. Or deliver warnings.
The two fae queens inclined their heads, which was a good sign.
She hadn’t offended them yet. Both were coated in makeup—the woman on the left had blue paint streaked on her cheeks with black kohl around her eyes, while the woman on the right was painted bronze.
The blue queen wore silver roped necklaces with amber pendants around her neck and a crown of amber on her head that held a silk veil in place over her hair.
The bronze queen was swathed in black from her neck to her ankles. Both were works of art.
“Tell us about your otherworld establishment,” the bronze queen demanded.
Calisa’s tongue felt thick, and she couldn’t stop staring. She remembered Jack saying that the inn used to be fit for royalty. She wasn’t sure it was anymore.
“Speak,” the blue one said, her voice gentle, coaxing.
“It’s peaceful, it’s beautiful, and it’s quiet,” Calisa said, the words spilling out.
“Except for the birds. They sing you awake every morning, and if you wake to their singing and go to the window, you can watch the sun rise over the mountains. It turns the sky lemon and pink before it brightens into a light blue. We serve breakfast every morning for our guests.”
“Pancakes,” Jack put in. “They’re delicious.”
“If you’re looking for an adventure, you should find another vacation. The Faraway Inn is an escape,” Calisa said. “It offers a few days to just breathe. To think, if you want, or not think. To be calm. To heal, if you need to. To have space and quiet.”
“It’s in a place called Vermont,” Jack said. “There are mountains and trees. We have gardens with flowers and a stream that you can sit by. We serve tea every afternoon, and there’s a library with shelves full of books. It’s not fancy, but it’s nice.”
“It is,” Calisa agreed.
The two queens exchanged looks.
The blue-painted queen smiled and said, “It sounds like precisely what we need.”
“We’ll tell the innkeeper, when she returns,” Calisa said.
There was no way they could host these two terrifying women without Auntie Zee, and she was certainly not going to invite anyone through the portal without the innkeeper’s permission.
“We can’t…” The words died in her throat.
Both fae queens were staring at her now, their expressions hard.
She felt the urge to bolt and hide under something very large for a very long time.
Rin sighed heavily. “She still has not returned? This is hard news. I hoped she’d gone home of her own accord. Alas, I have heard nothing of her whereabouts.”
Calisa felt her heart sink.
She hadn’t realized how much she’d been hoping that Rin would have the answer—he could have talked with someone who’d seen Auntie Zee, he could have gotten word to her that they were searching for her and she needed to come home, or he could have found her and been here with her, ready to return.
Now what do we do?