Chapter Six

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I'd gathered supplies. A shark tooth talisman, enough salt and black sand to fill the deep pockets of my overalls. A practitioner's tools for protection. But then I remembered Pim's warning not to fear what others label monstrous, so instead, I came with nothing. I had my instincts and my dreams. I didn't fear this Alder. I was drawn to him.

What I'd said to Lemon was true, he was the first person in Saltash to want my friendship; he deserved a chance and I desperately wanted to give him one. There was a part of me that wanted to pretend last night hadn't happened, that didn't want to know where the real Alder was so that I could keep pretending. But that was no way forward, not really. So here I was, at eight o'clock, sitting on my bike outside the Flints' cottage in town.

Hanging against their red door was an iron horseshoe, old folk magick that was supposed to provide protection from the fae. That almost made me laugh, because whoever the Flints had welcomed as their son was surely closer to fae than human. And appeared to be able to turn into a horse. When I gave Alder the hagstone necklace, he seemed surprised that I didn't believe in the fae and, now, I guess that I knew why.

But why did the Flints believe, and believe enough to hang the iron protection over the threshold to their home? Layla Flint had always refused to have anything to do with me and Pim, I'd assumed because she didn't approve of witchcraft, but she'd employed a version of it herself. Perhaps there was a more human reason for her dislike of me, a more human kind of prejudice.

The door in question swung open before I'd gathered my thoughts or shaken off my nerves, much less gotten off my bike. Alder slid out onto the stoop. He closed the door gently, presumably to avoid his parents' detection. Or perhaps just his mother's, as a baker's hours meant that Jonquil Flint was certainly already at work. Glancing over his shoulder at the house, Alder crossed the sidewalk to where I was parked on the street.

"Wyn, you came," he said. "I didn't think you would."

Alder's eyes jumped over me, probably worried about magickal attack. I turned out my pockets, held up my hands, and he sighed. He looked exhausted, with dark bruises under his eyes and his bottom lip chewed raw. I wondered if he'd slept last night. I hardly had.

I'd started dialing the Tans' number several times, wanting to talk to Pim, but decided that it would be best to wait to confide in her. Besides, what was there to tell? I'd tried to answer that myself, but our bookshelf was no help. If any text mentioned the fae, it was in a cursory manner.

I realized that in my years of study under Pim, I knew as much about the fae as the average mundane person who read the kind of fanciful novels that Celeste and I enjoyed. I'd always assumed that that was because the cunning folk hadn't had much to do with the realm of faerie for at least a hundred years, but now I wasn't so sure. I had a funny feeling, like the ground was shifting under my feet, and I was the only person who'd never heard of an earthquake.

"I wasn't sure if I should come," I said. "But I think we need to talk. And I want to talk."

"Yes, I do too." His gaze flitted to the house. "But not here. Please."

"I know a place," I said. "Can we take your scooter? I only have this today." I gestured to my pedal bike.

Alder frowned. "I can't drive."

"What?" I actually laughed. "You've been driving since you were fourteen." And then it hit me all over again that this wasn't really Alder Flint. "Right. Well, we've got two options. We can go pick up my motorbike from the Tans' house or I can drive your scooter, but I think yours might be more comfortable on the terrain."

"I'll get the keys," he said. He looked at my bright, yellow tricycle, seemed to hesitate, biting his lip. "I'm sorry to ask, Wyn, but can you park somewhere else? Everyone knows this bike, and..."

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