Glass Maker: A Fairy Tale

Chapter Five

She scoffed. "I have never stolen anything in my life."

"No? Not even a small glass figure from a fae ring?"

He spun her once more, but this time she settled with her back to him as the steps of the dance began their ascent. Any moment now, and Katherine would have to put an inordinate amount of trust in this fae king.

"Is it stealing if I made it?"

"Is it a gift if you take it back?" He countered, his breath at the side of her head, and Katherine felt it in other places than just the shell of her ear, as her body tingled with a foreign spark.

"It was not meant for you. It was for my sister." Katherine moved her head so she could lock eyes with him, mustering all of her courage into a stern glare. "I would argue that you stole from her, rather than I stole from you. Each of those figures was meant for my sister, and if you claimed them, then you did so in error."

"Dear glass maker, you cannot give gifts to the dead. There is no one there to receive them any longer." His expression was almost pitying, his own mouth taut, but Katherine got the impression he still played with her. "Leaving a thing like that is more ancient than you and your sister's bond. Whether you meant to or not, you invoked a blessing by leaving exactly twelve figures, one for each month. And each placed on a full moon!"

"Then maybe I gave them to the birds, the bugs, the fauns," she grit out. "They surely would be more gracious receivers than you."

The laugh this time was an uproar. He chortled, he nearly lost his step in the dance. 

"I am master of the birds, the bugs, the fauns. Any gift you grant of them you give to me."

He brought her now into a jolting prance across the golden dirt, and Katherine's stomach dropped as her feet ceased to touch the ground. She held onto his right hand tighter, and he hummed in amusement, his arm gripping her around the small of her back. Now she was pressed against his front, feeling every inch of fabric under her heated skin, for her dress was built more for forge work than dancing. She chanced a look down at her feet, but her eyes widened when they caught sight of the shimmering hem of her dress.

No longer was it the dark blue of her work dress, now it matched the golden ground beneath her, as reflective as the king's silver overcoat and jewels. Her skirts were unaltered, not changed at all in length or size, but they moved with a grace that the stiff wool and linen blend could not. The gold climbed up the length of her dress, spreading out in a fanning feather pattern at her bodice, mixing the blue of her dress with the gold that reminded her of dark storm clouds over sunlight. Her skin once again glistened with golden specs and as the king led her in a mid-air lift, his hands grasping the area above her hips tightly, Katherine realized that she too must appear like one of the fae.

Did her mother even recognize her? She was unable to check as the king brought her back down from the culminating lift a moment later, and the flutes and drums transitioned into a different beat. This one pulsed slower, languid in its time.

"I'm willing to overlook your theft in return for a different gift, multiplied threefold." The king's words dragged her from her thoughts, from her panic at being in the air, from the whirl of her gold-laden skirts and the dreamlike quality of it all. "And in return, I will grant you what you wish most. I will bring your sister back to you."

Katherine didn't respond at first, hurriedly mulling over the suggestion. Everything about this night and this proposition rang of a trap. There was no way it was in earnest, and what did he have to gain from it?

"Why would you promise this?"

"Because you can grant me what I wish for most. Magic is not simply breathed into being anymore, it is traded back and forth between fae, between elves, between sorcerers hidden in the mountains, but you? My dear glass maker, you create it all on your own."