Ignoring his whines and snorts for attention, I finished cleaning his stall before heading inside to clean myself up. Despite the cold weather, the manual labor had me working up a sweat while my hands and borrowed clothing were covered in dirt. I wasn't going to dwell on what else the smears of brown on the oversized green overalls could consist of.
When I stepped inside the kitchen, slipping my shoes off outside to keep from tracking mud and shit inside and adding more work to my plate, the first thing that caught my eye was the basket Penelope had brought. It sat on the table, a white cloth covering its contents and the corner of a note tucked under it.
Making my way towards it, I tugged the paper free and was surprised to be able to read the words it had scrawled on it. I hadn't been able to make out a single letter that resembled English on the spines lining the bookshelves in the other room.
Silas,
Hilda mentioned your love for elderberries the other day. I'm sad to have missed you again, but hope you enjoy these scones. I put extra in them just for you. I look forward to finally seeing you again tomorrow!
Love, Penelope.
I couldn't help but let out a snort. She must have had it bad for him to be making baked goods and leaving little notes signed love. Or maybe this was just the way Fae flirted. I couldn't blame her, not when I could see the surface-level appeal she did. He had a face that looked chiseled out of marble by a skilled artist. There must have been many before her who had fallen for it and many who would follow. If only he had an equally appealing personality to go with it.
Everything that had followed the initial help he had offered when he found me had pretty much negated any goodwill I could have fooled myself into seeing. For all I knew, his outrage this morning could have all been an act so he could appear to be on my side after what his mother had done.
But... his anger looked real. It felt real. I shuddered at the memory of the familiar fear it had rising in me.
The sound of the front door opening and closing had my head jerking up. I held my breath, waiting for a sign that would clue me in to who it was. The sound of light feet in boots had me slowly releasing it.
"What's that?" Hilda asked as she made her way into the kitchen.
My hand rushed to put the note down by the basket while my heart jumped to my throat. I cleared it, focusing on Hilda's features that only held curiosity to settle the panic that had struck at being caught with something that wasn't for me in my hands.
"A note Penelope left with the scones," I said, trying to smooth away the faint thumbprint I had accidentally stamped on the paper. "It's for Silas."
Brushing away most of the mark, when I turned my attention back to Hilda, it was to find a frown pulling at her lips as she looked down at the note. Shifting her eyes to me, she flattened them into a firm line.
"Hmm," she hummed dismissively as she made her way across the kitchen to set the loaded tote bag she carried over her shoulder down on the counter. "Does it hold anything of importance?"
I shrugged. "It says the scones are elderberry..." Another similarity. Or at least the name was. I had never eaten or seen the berries myself, but I had read about them in a book once.
Thinking back on the words I had heard Hilda say previously, it seemed some of the similarities I was seeing were poor attempts of us trying to copy their advancements. The lack of power cords and outlets was a testament to that. After all, we couldn't replicate items powered by magic if we didn't have any magic to use. Not unless we found other ways. Destructive ones. Which would explain her comments.
But... what about language? The books in the other room told me English wasn't the only language here, but it was the one that I had seen being used the most. Among Cedric and his men, Silas, and his mother, and with Penelope when she had approached me and now with the note she had left behind.
"Does everyone here speak and write English? And have pointed ears?" I couldn't help but add as my eyes landed on the points of hers. They peeked through the silver strands of her hair that were pulled back into a low ponytail.
She scoffed as she opened her bag and reached inside. "You humans always take. It's why your world is in ruins. Hopefully, the Blood Stone will die along with it when there's nothing in your realm left to take," she mumbled under her breath as she pulled out a few bundles of clothing. "English, as you call it, is the common language of the fae. The same humans who tried to take our advancements without the means to sustainably power them, also took our tongue when they left."
"By sustainable means, you mean magic, right?"
"All nature holds magick, including yours, but humans weren't meant to weld it."
I couldn't stop myself from scoffing derisively as I leaned back against the table. "No, just to hide it."
She stopped removing the contents of her bag to look me in the eyes. "Yes. Which is why I choose to place the fate of this realm in a human I just met. In your body. Humans weren't gifted by Nature like Fae. Why would you be? All you do is destroy it."
I ground my teeth together, tired of how she spoke of humans. "So the chances of me even being able to do little party tricks aren't great, are they?" It was a bit embarrassing to admit that I had spent a little too much time between tasks trying to move dead leaves on the ground, so I kept it to myself. It wouldn't have been if it had actually worked.
She sighed, her eyes softening with pity. "No, they aren't. But if it happens that you can, my offer still stands."
Though I had initially been excited at the prospect, party tricks weren't going to help me with the target she had painted on my back. In fact, they would illuminate it to create a beacon if the wrong person noticed a human doing something she shouldn't be capable of.
"As for the ears," she continued, reaching into her bag once again. "Yes, all fae have pointed ears. Which is why I got you this while I was out." Pulling out a small velvet pouch, she opened the cinched top to empty a ring onto her palm. "Here, put this on," she said, holding it out toward me. "It'll glamour your ears to appear like ours."
I pushed off the table and made my way toward her. Coming to a stop near her outstretched hand, I lifted the golden ring from her palm to inspect it. The delicate band held a single stone, an emerald. It was surrounded by engraved leaves that tapered off the further they reached down the sides of the band. The inside of the ring was inscribed in the same language I saw written on the spines of the books in the living room.
Instead of doing as she had instructed, I kept it pinched between my fingers in the air between us. "Is this another lie to make me take something I would otherwise say no to?" I asked, unable to keep rancor from seeping into my dry tone.
She let out a soft exhale as she grabbed the edge of the counter in her hands. "No, Greysi, it's not. It's exactly what I told you it is. I'm sorry for lying to you about the Blood Stone, but that stops here. No more lies. Hopefully one day you can come to see why it was necessary and not hate me for it."
My eyes narrowed on her. "Does that mean your ready to explain Silas's reaction this morning?"
Her face grew shuttered as she straightened her shoulders. "That is for you and Silas to discuss when he is ready."
Meaning there was something left to tell. Something that was too much for him.
"Did Penelope mention anything regarding your ears?" She asked, changing the subject.
"No. She was a bit... distracted to notice."
My response had her lifting a questioning brow, but she didn't prob for more. Instead, she clicked her tongue disapprovingly as she shook her head and gathered the clothing she had been pulling out.
"Luckily that girl only pays attention to men she finds ravishing," she muttered under her breath.
I had a feeling she was second-guessing her decision to try and set her up with Silas.
"Put the ring on." She pointed towards my hand with her chin. "I want to see if it works or not. It's designed for fae but should work since you aren't required to hold the glamour. It does all the work for you."
Eyeing the ring with suspicion, I let out a breath as I tried to gauge which finger it would fit best. I didn't trust Hilda, but I did trust that she and Silas didn't want it getting out that I was a human. Not after I had witnessed the hostility between him and Cedric and heard the thinly veiled threat he had left in the form of a reminder. And especially not now that I had become an involuntary but crucial part of whatever the mother-son duo had going on.
I also trusted that those motivators would also be my key to dragging them down with me if they were the reason I couldn't make it back to Ash to fulfill the promise I made him. I would find out if it ever came down to it.
"It's too big-"
My words ended with a gasp as the ring that was too loose to even fit my thumb shrunk to fit the middle finger I had slipped it onto. Once my amazement wore off, an inkling of worry followed. It had me reaching for the ring to try and tug it off. I let out a relieved breath when it slipped off with ease.
"Yes, you can remove it, but," I looked up from the ring to see the warning in her eyes that matched her stressed words. "Do. Not. Take it off. Ever."
I swallowed hard, feeling the weight of her strict gaze. "O-okay."
"Good. Now, here," she said, the oppressive air that had enveloped us vanishing as quickly as it formed when she dropped her gaze and reached from the stack of clothing before her. My shoulders refused to relax as she pushed them toward me. "These are for you. You'll need more for winter, but these and the clothes I can spare should do for now."
"What are my chances of getting back home before winter hits?"
"You'll be lucky if I even get a response from my friend before the first snowfall."
My shoulders dropped in dejection. "I thought they weren't your friends," I mumbled in bitterness.
She clicked her tongue and pushed the clothes further towards me, making me reach out for them before they could drop to the floor. "In the meantime, you will need to integrate yourself into our lives without raising any suspicions. If anyone asks, you are the daughter of a friend who recently passed and lost your home along with your mother. I offered you a bed in exchange for additional help as age catches up to me. Understand? Good," she remarked at my nod. "I'll also get you some books you can read about this realm. It would be best if you weren't completely clueless as to what you may face while you are here. Though, you will not be venturing far from this home, and never alone."
"Thanks," I replied, trying to reign in my sarcasm as I held the clothes to my chest.
"Go put them away and wash up. I'll prepare lunch. After we eat, I'm going to need your help to prepare for the town market this weekend. We're going to need to sell more than usual to be able to afford you a nice coat and some decent boots so you don't lose any toes. Though, I'm sure Silas would have no problem taking on an extra contract to make up the difference if need be."
* * *
After a warm and filling lunch of soup and bread, Hilda handed me a pair of worn leather gloves before leading me out back where the garden beds were gathered off to the side. There, after being given explicit and detailed instructions on what to harvest and what to leave be, the two of us worked in silence as we filled our baskets with vegetables until Hilda had determined we had gathered enough and led me back inside where it quickly became evident that our work had just begun.
The moment I set the heavy basket holding various root vegetables down on the table, Hilda assigned me the task of washing everything we had collected while she set multiple pots on the burners of the stove and pulled out empty jars and various ingredients from the cupboards. The next few hours were spent canning and pickling vegetables, making jams, preserves, and goat cheese. Hilda was going to hold off on preparing dough for bread until the night before the market and bake it in the morning when we would also need to gather more fresh produce to sell as well.
As we continued to work together, I found myself gradually relaxing in Hilda's presence as we focused on our work. Enough to ask her more questions about this realm. Questions she had no problem answering, detailing how this world had been on the cusp of war for years as tensions between courts grew strained in the search for the Blood Stone. The only ones she refused to answer, were the ones regarding Silas and the conversation I had overheard this morning. Each time I tried, her eyes never failed to seek out her phone that she kept in her line of sight while shutting me down. She was waiting for Silas to respond to her and had stopped trying to call him when he had begun to blatantly cut her calls without answering.
And she was left waiting. Even after we had prepared and eaten dinner, she remained sitting at the table with her eyes focused on the device, a prepared plate for him across from her, and a lukewarm cup of tea at her side while I washed the dishes at the sink. It only felt fair since she had made the delicious meal and cleaned up while I went up to take a shower before eating.
The sun outside the window over the sink had long set before I had started the dishes. As I neared the last of them, my anticipation for the moment I was done so I could head upstairs to drop onto my bed and pass out, grew.
It was then that Silas decided to return, ruining my chances of having a peaceful and quiet retreat.
The moment the front door opening sounded, Hilda straightened in her seat, pulling her shawl tighter around herself as she listened to it close. She rose to her feet as Silas's footsteps sounded on the floor, drawing near. They were light and barely audible to me over the sound of running water that I turned a knob decorated with magick-infused stones to slow, just like his steps did.
His feet grew to stop when he caught sight of Hilda before his eyes briefly flicked toward me. Seeing me only had his frown deepening and me swallowing hard as I clutched the soapy glass I held, waiting for one of them to break the tense silence.
Dropping the bag he had slung over his shoulder onto the floor by the kitchen entrance, he disregarded us both as he made his way toward the fridge. Or ice box as Hilda had called it. He didn't make it past the kitchen table.
"Silas," Hilda said his name sternly as she step forward to block his path. "Where have you been?"
"Work," he tersely replied, keeping his eye pointed over her head as he moved to step around her.
She stepped to the side, blocking his attempt. She spoke to him again, but this time in a language I couldn't understand, but recognized. It sounded similar to the hushed words I had heard the two exchange when Silas had first shown up with me in tow.
He shot back an angered and clipped response in the same language. The more he spoke, the more it sounded like he wasn't as well versed in it as Hilda was with how rough it sounded from his lips compared to hers. That, and how he seemed to struggle for his next words, resulting in him snapping his jaw closed and brushing past her.
He only made it a step before Hilda reached out for him, grabbing his arm. She began to say something else to him, her tone sounding pleading, but Silas cut her off.
"No!" He practically shouted, brushing her arm off as he turned. He gripped the back of the chair beside him with a white knuckle grip that had me wondering how far he would need to be pushed before he struck out with his anger. "We're done discussing-"
A gasp escaped my lips as flames burst to life, cutting off his words. His hand released the chair where they had originated under his palm and jerked back in surprise, pulling Hilda away with him. I stared at the fire with wide eyes alongside Hilda while Silas's gaze narrowed on it, his fists clenched at his sides and a muscle jumping in his clenched jaw. Both of them stood frozen stiff, transfixed on the flickering flames that began to spread and consume the wooden chair.
While they remained enthralled as the fire grew, my panic that grew along with it had me moving on autopilot to extinguish the threat. Filing the glass I had clenched in my hand with water, I darted across the kitchen to douse the flames, getting them in one go. And soaking the plate Hilda had made for Silas in the process.
"This is all your fault-"
I couldn't stop a faint whimper from escaping my lips as I watched Silas's towering figure shift in my peripheral as he shouted the words at me. The glass slipped from my fingers, crashing to the ground as I clenched my eyes and rose my arms up to protect my head.
My breath came out harsh and loud, bordering on hyperventilating as I waited for a strike of pain to accompany the familiar lash of words that were abruptly cut off. When it didn't come, I slowly cracked them open to see Silas drawing back an accusatory finger that he had pointed at me.
My feet slowly shift, trying to discreetly place more distance between us but instead making my still as it drew my attention back to the broken glass that now littered the floor.
"I'm s-sorry," I stuttered out as I dropped into a crouch. "I'll clean it up," I promised as I began to gather the largest of the shards, placing them on my palm.
I felt eyes drilling into the top of my lowered head. I didn't dare look up, instead focusing on locating the next shard to pick up and add to the growing collection in my hand. My brows furrowed at the drops of red that caught my attention as I reached for the next piece. When had I cut my finger?
"Fuck."
With the whispered curse, Silas turned and made his way out of the kitchen, his steps sounding heavier and faster than before. I didn't lift my head to watch him leave, I kept it down as I continued to clean the mess I had created.
When a gentle hand landed on my shoulder, I jumped, hissing when my hand full of glass tried to close by reflex. The aged hand pulled back to move and cup my hand, turning it to empty the glass I held onto a dish rag. I looked up from it and into Hilda's face.
She gave me a sad smile as she reached out to swipe her thumb under my eye, catching a tear I hadn't realized I had shed. "Go to bed, dear. I'll handle this."
"It's alright, it's my f-fault. I'll clean-"
"Go to bed. It's been a long day."
Taken is complete and available on Patreon. Book 2 of The Blood Stone Series is currently being updated. Read more at:
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