Faebreaker

20: A Question Per Day

A day into their journey, Erik and Alaric had something of a visitor.

It seemed pretty ridiculous, at first. Erik had been resting under a small oak, sleeping the night away as he tried hard to forget what had happened back at the inn, still contemplating just exactly what had happened to father. Apparently, Erik's father had left long ago, most likely venturing out to find mother. As to what this Otherworld was, and what mother had to do with it, Erik could only imagine. If anything, it didn't sound like a particularly nice place. Rather, it sounded like the place dead people went after they died, only, the Church called that the Afterworld—or heaven, to the common folk.

But for once, there was some good news for a change.

Finn, trotting behind Erik, kicked some dirt onto the boy's face, hooves scraping up against the grass.

Erik coughed in light of his good fortune. "Well horse shit. Aren't you just a bundle of joy," he said depressingly, the sun blaring at his eyes as he got to his feet. "Where've you been off to?"

The horse stood still, remaining silent as it spared a glance in Alaric's direction. The fae, contemplative, sat meditating in the morning breeze.

Erik clutched the dagger at his side, feeling Lia's lock of hair. Why do I even bother? It's not like he wanted a reminder of what happened, but it seemed wrong not to take some part of her with him. Imagine I get to revenge Aedan with his own dagger someday.

He pet Finn along his mane. "Next time you see a stranger sneak up on me, give him a good kick in the ass, yeah?"

Finn snorted.

"Can't tell if that's a yes or no, but I'll take it as a yes in good faith," Erik said, shaking his head. "Stay put, all right?"

Moving over to Alaric, Erik watched the sun rise over the hills in the distance. He wasn't really sure what to think at this point, about anything anymore.

Fairies. They were always something that straddled the line between myth and reality. No one doubted their existence, but there was no denying that over time, their peoples grew into obscurity. They existed, but they didn't.

Yet, despite everything, here was one right now, oathbound to help fulfill Erik's promise. A fae, a fairy, a demon, was there a difference?

Taking a seat next to Alaric's side, Erik saw his guardian holding the small white orb from earlier. A part of his soul, apparently.

"Any luck?" Erik asked, leaning back on the palms of his hands.

Alaric locked eyes with Erik's. "We are very close," he said simply, choosing to stare ahead again.

"I wanted to ask you some more things."

Alaric shot the boy a harsh glance. "More questions?"

Erik nodded.

"One a day, then," Alaric said, staring at the orb. "Choose your words carefully."

Choose my words carefully. "What else can you do with a soul?"

Turning his head around, Alaric grinned. "Many things," he said simply.

"Like what, though?"

The fae chuckled. "That's two questions."

What?

Erik let out a nervous laugh.

Well, horse shit.

Erik deadpanned. A little rush of wind sped by, as though nature itself might have been secretly laughing at him."Seriously?" He didn't know what else to say.

"First lesson," Alaric said, getting up to his feet. "Be specific with the fae folk, and waste no words. As some ground rules: never say thank you, never eat their food, and don't go making deals with random fae you hardly know."

"Like the one I made with you?"

"Is that a question?"

Erik let out an exasperated sigh. "How about this then—how about, I buy questions from you."

Alaric cocked a brow. "I'm listening." He seemed to be getting a kick out of this.

"I do the stuff you don't want to do," Erik said simply. "Like cook food."

"How will we weigh these questions?"

"One meal," Erik started, "equals one question. And I can string up multiple questions so that I can get more information from you."

"What does a meal equate to?"

"Your satisfaction."

Alaric scratched at his beard. "Very well," he said. "When I am satisfied with what you give me, you may have an additional question per day."

"And."

Alaric crossed his arms. "What?"

"I can save up my questions. Even my free ones."

The fae nodded. "Fine." He held out an open hand. "I believe this is the correct gesture—shaking on it."

Getting to his feet, Erik strode forward and grasped Alaric's hand, shaking it firmly.

"Deal."

Turning around, Erik started to make his way back to Finn, but was stopped in his tracks by the firm authority of Alaric's voice.

"Also," the fae began, taking a step forward. "That horse."

Erik locked eyes with Alaric's. "Finn?"

"He is not what he appears to be," Alaric said, regarding the steed curiously.

"Say what, now?"

Looking back toward Finn, Erik noticed that his gaze was firmly fixated on him, and that several other horses, seemingly from out of nowhere, had trotted up to Finn's side, carrying packed belongings. What in heaven or hell is the meaning of this?

Alaric, remaining silent, went over to Pooka.

Erik put both his hands up. "Have me in debt for all I care," Erik said simply. "But what's all this about?"

Alaric shrugged.

"He is one of the wild folk."

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