34. The Stolen Bride
Despite the wild night before, I woke at dawn. As soon as the sun was above the horizon, I tiptoed out of my room and made my way to the courtyard. To my surprise, the garden and lawn were immaculately clean, not a blade of grass was out of place. The brownies had been hard at work.
There was only one thing they had missed–the entangled couples or passed out singles. I supposed stirring a drunk fae was ill-advised even for them. Luckily, they all appeared to be soundly asleep. So, I moved quietly and attracted no notice.
I had no trouble finding the now-closed-up night jasmine and my hidden susurrus underneath. I placed it gently inside the small picnic basket I carried. Then, stepping over a sleeping nymph, I went to investigate the white rose bushes. Clara had said there was more susurrus to be found. I kneeled down and found the floor blanketed with them.
”Hello, my little ones,” I whispered.
They whispered back, and my mouth dropped open. Their words were impossible to discern, but I hadn’t expected to hear them at all. Not yet. They hadn’t been planted correctly. I believed it was the combination of plants from Momma’s song that made the magic work. There was no lion’s mane, rosemary, or countless other plants here. Perhaps, the susurrus was even more powerful than I had imagined.
I had no idea how many plants I would need. One, a dozen, one hundred. I settled for filling my picnic basket to the brim.