Chapter 30 Wine & Witless Insults
Chapter thirty
Wine & Witless Insults
Aparty in the Hollow was exactly what I needed after my confrontation with Titania and the Rot.
The clearing around Aliena’s cottage rang with laughter and music, lit by colorful floating lights like the ones from the revelry, but with a far more boisterous crowd.
Aliena now sat in the raised roots of an oak tree on the edge of the clearing, accompanied by half a dozen other fay creatures, each holding a different, strange-looking instrument.
They were arguing animatedly amongst themselves about which song to play next.
Arachne was there too, seated in a chair made from silken webs she had spun between two tree trunks.
On the grass in the center of the clearing, Briony and Larch were attempting to teach a group of fay children a raucous call-and-response song.
“Knew you couldn’t resist!” called Jon, who was standing beside a massive cask of wine.
Holding several cups in his enormous hands, he approached us and held one out to me, then passed another to Devil.
I was determined to forget the events of the day, so I took a long drink and gave him a giddy smile.
“It was hardly a difficult choice,” I said, waving my hand around at the trees, which had been festooned with colorful scraps of cloth and strings of flowers or autumn leaves.
A long trestle table had been set up beside the wine cask, laden with food, including a large bowl of my coveted honey almonds, and I wandered over with Devil behind me.
One look at the food had my mouth watering— golden-brown puff pastries oozing soft, white herb cheese, roasted legs of wild turkey that smelled of coriander, oil-fried sweet potato cubes topped with rosemary, and one enormous blackberry almond pie.
I quickly finished off my first cup of mulled wine, which had me floating, then ate my fill while I watched the fay dancers twirl and leap in the center of the clearing.
But no sooner had I finished a second helping of pie than Devil waved to Aliena and the song faded out.
Jon handed me a full cup of wine and Devil took my hand, pulling me out into the soft spotlight provided by a glowing full moon.
“In your honor, my lady,” he said, bowing and raising his own cup to me. “At long last, we welcome you home.”
I lifted my own cup in thanks as Jon threw his head back and bellowed, “How doth the Arden greet her wayward children?”
“With open arms and a merry smile!” came the response. Everyone took another drink, and I grinned at Devil.
“I am willing to admit when you’ve done well, pet.”
He wrinkled his nose at the nickname, but maintained a steady smile. “All credit to Larch and Jon and Arachne. A party planner, I am not, but I do have something rather special I wanted to…give you.”
I let out a wine-induced laugh. “Should I be frightened?”
Devil just winked and pulled me over to sit beside Aliena.
He set down his cup and raised his hands, causing every floating orb in the clearing to dim.
Aliena plucked a slow tune on her lute as golden streams of light poured from Devil’s hands, forming themselves into the shape of a faceless man carrying a bow, who stood tall in the center of the clearing.
Then, he began to speak in a different voice than I had heard him use before.
It was low, melodic, and almost hypnotizing when accompanied by Aliena’s music.
The story played out in front of us as he told it, like Oberon’s had the night of the revelry, and I listened with bated breath.
Once, there was a human hunter, tall and handsome, who came to the Arden seeking its dangers and treasures.
While out with his bow, he happened to walk through a faerie glamour and caught a glimpse of the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, in a partial state of undress.
She was preparing to bathe in a spring, delicate dragonfly wings trailing behind her.
He knew her to be a faerie creature, so he hid behind a tree, but the birds cried out their warning.
The woman called him forth and he knelt, begging her forgiveness and mercy.
She said she was inclined to turn him into a stag.
If she allowed her pack of wolves to chase him down, she would have venison for her supper.
But this only made the hunter smile.
“Please, goddess,” he begged, “make it so. I would welcome death if it meant spending even a moment between your lips. At least, as your supper, I will know what it is to be inside you, and to make you sigh with satisfaction.”
His boldness made the woman laugh, so she offered him a bargain, as the Fair Folk are wont to do: She would cast a spell that caused him to forget the location of her spring after twelve nights.
But, if he could find her again, and bring her one item from the human world each night for twelve nights, then she would lift the spell, and he could visit her whenever he liked.
The hunter eagerly stood and offered her twelve items from his world immediately—his quiver of eleven arrows, and the beautiful longbow which had belonged to his grandfather.
The faerie woman rejected them.
“These were made from my forest,” she said. “My trees. The feathers from my birds. The stones from my earth. They are not of your world. You are only borrowing them.”
Desperate, the hunter began to strip his clothing off and toss it at her feet. Two boots, two stockings, an undershirt, a belt, a tunic, two gauntlets, two gloves, and finally, a pair of trousers.
“Twelve!” he crowed, standing naked before her. Again, his audacity made her laugh, and the beauty of his body tempted her enough that she nearly relented.
But again, she shook her head. “Cotton grows from the earth. Wool and leather are taken from the animals. Even the wooden toggles on your boots come from the trees.”
The hunter was not easily deterred. He took a step toward her, holding his arms outstretched, and declared: “Then I offer you all the pieces of myself, such as they are. Two swift feet, to do your bidding. Two willing knees, to worship at your altar and no other. Two broad shoulders, to carry any burden the world dares place upon you. Two strong arms, to shelter or avenge, build or destroy, according to your will. A mouth, to shout my devotion from the top of every mountain. And two scarred hands, steady with a bow, to defend whatever is most holy to you.”
The faerie stepped out of her pool and approached slowly, entranced by his words, and the light glimmering in his brilliant green eyes.
“That is only eleven, hunter.”
Knowing he risked his life in doing so, he took her hand and placed it on his own chest.
“One foolish and hopeful heart, to beat only at your command. That, I’m afraid, I have already given you...and not for the wide world would I have it back.”
As the tableau of light-borne figures faded away, and the crowd burst into applause, I brushed tears from my cheeks. Although the images Devil created had no defined features, I knew who they were. With my chest close to bursting with emotion, I looked up at Aliena.
“Is that…really how my parents met?”
She smiled and put a gentle hand on my back. “Lyric proudly told the tale to anyone who would listen, and it’s become something of a legend in the Arden. We thought you would want to hear it, especially after…what happened today.”
“Devil told you?”
“I’m so sorry, May. Titania has always been difficult. Fiery. Stubborn. Changeable. It’s in her nature. But I hope you know that the way she is now, it has nothing to do with you. Everything changed when she lost Lyric. That wound won’t ever heal, so please don’t tie yourself in knots trying.”
“I just…wanted her to know who I am,” I sighed. “I can never replace what she lost, and I don’t want to, but…if she could just see me, and not her pain, maybe that would be enough.”
“I hope someday she will,” Aliena murmured. “You are worth knowing.”
“Thank you,” I whispered, throwing my arms around her neck. She held me for nearly a full minute, until Jon clapped his hands and called for another dance. Aliena’s companions picked up a lively tune and she brought out a fiddle to match it.
I watched the Fair Folk dance in intricate, weaving steps and patterns, but was far too embarrassed to set foot amongst them.
The Sisters of Locksley, naturally, did not host such raucous parties, so I had only ever been a witness.
For the first several songs, I simply clapped along, laughing while Devil twirled about the clearing with little Myrtle in his arms. The faerie wine, which I drank far more quickly than was advisable, warmed my body and lifted my spirits.
Under the blanket of moonlight and music and mulling spices, it was easy to forget everything I’d been through the past weeks.
All the fear and apprehension and anger melted away, leaving behind only a gentle buzz of contentment.
“You do not dance, lady?” asked Jon, who had ambled over to sit beside me in the grass.
I laughed and polished off another cup of wine, having now lost count. “Not very well, I’m afraid. I’ve had little cause to practice.”
“Ah, well, persistence is key!” he called over the screech of Aliena’s fiddle. “Speaking of which, your Mister Scarlett is quite persistent.”
“Yes, I got the message you sent with Prim. Does he seem…alright?”
Jon took a long drink of his own before answering. “Happy as a man can be in that situation, I s’pose.”
“I wish he’d come away with me,” I murmured. “I wish he’d been brave enough.” The wine was loosening my tongue, but I no longer cared. I felt safe with Jon anyway, in spite of him probably being the most dangerous human man I’d ever met.
“Bravery can be quiet sometimes,” Jon said softly. “It ain’t always loud and brash.”
“I know…and Will always was always the quiet, sweet one anyway. I was the one who spoke out of turn. He used to keep me out of schoolyard fights when we were children.”