"There are fairies in your flowers," the girl says as she steps out into the back garden, "They're so pretty!"
"I know," I tell her without looking up from my task—pruning roses is serious business. A warning about what comes next would be kind, but I myself have discovered that first hand experience soaks in the deepest.
"It bit me!"
"What'd you expect fairies to do?" I ask before snipping a stem and looking up to find her large blue eyes locked on me in accusation.
"I'm Sarah," I smile as I peel the gardening gloves off my hands and extend one to her. I can't help but smile. She's obviously pissed.
"You could've told me," she says putting her uninjuried hand in mine, "Asher, and I know who you are."
"That doesn't mean I can't introduce myself. What if I wanted to be called something else entirely? What is a name anyway?" I say as my eyes take measure of this new housemate of mine. She is short and curvy with pink lips and hair the color of clover honey. She looks like trouble—just like all the others.
"Why are there fairies in your garden?" Asher takes a step back and surveys the humdrum.
"I have no idea," I lie. I'm pretty certain they were a house warming gift from my old adversary, but it seems petty to slander him without concrete evidence.
"Come inside, have a cup of tea, and meet the other misses," I say gesturing toward the French doors she's just come through, "I'll call them down. There's only two others with me now." There're never really very many considering there are four other houses that make up our little campus. My house is reserved for the worst cases. The girls who vanish in the night only to turn up three years later raving about vampires or wolf men or what have you. Of course, my area of specialty is Fairy, but Fairy is a hard place to get back from.
With one last hateful glance toward the iridescent wings flashing among my foliage, she follows along.
The house is not large, but it is cozy. A fireplace dominates the living room and a generous kitchen leads into the sunroom we enter first. Herbs are drying above our heads, strung together on brightly colored ribbons, and the kettle is already whistling from it's place on the stove.
"Go on into the living room and we'll be right there," I say while turning off the stove.
Before Asher has time to fully disappear, Emma and Rachel have run down the stairs and started grabbing mixed-matched cups and saucers from their shelves.
"Try not to overwhelm her," I laugh as they crowd brownies and scones onto trays.
"It's been so long since we've had a new girl," Rachel whispers—she always whispers.
"I hope Jude got back home," Emma adds while scooping globs of cream into a dish. "I hope she gives that wicked king exactly what he deserves!"
I can only sigh when I think of Jude. Her visit was short, she was a vicious little thing, and she reminded me far too much of myself in more ways than I cared to examine.
"Jude will be fine," I say, balancing the tea pot and cups on a tray. "Come on, Asher is waiting."
We burst into the living room like a three ring circus. Emma pushes aside a vase of peonies to make room for our foraged treasures on the coffee table as Rachel takes her seat by the bay window a tea cup in one hand and a scone in the other.
"Alright ladies," I sit down the tray and pour each of them a cup. "Asher, meet Emma and Rachel." I bring my own tea to the sofa and sit next to Asher. "Emma has lived here about a year and Rachel is nearing her third year," I take a sip of the piping hot tea. "I've lived in Coralee Cottage for seven years. As you probably know I founded Everlyn with three other people I'd meet who'd slipped through the cracks and into other places—James, Roselyn, and Clair. We've all got stories and don't particularly mind sharing, but mostly we just like being among other people who are ok with us throwing salt around or wearing garlic necklaces." I don't do any of those things. What I do is so much worse.
"Hi," Asher waves none too enthusiastically at the other girls.
Emma smiles and Rachel takes a sip of her tea. This should be a rousing afternoon.
"Alright," Asher turns to me. "Why do they send the likes of us to you? Obviously, we three have issues, what's your deal?"
"You're absolutely delightful," I say with no small amount of sarcasm before setting my cup down on the end table, "But, you're right. I don't take just anyone into Coralee. I spent ten hours in Fairy when I was fifteen. I took on the high fey king of a Temporal Court, of which there are three: Day, Night, and Twilight," I slouch back in the sofa after grabbing a brownie from the tray.
"Which court?" Asher asks.
"The most tricky one!" Emma jumps in excitedly.
"Twilight," Rachel says whisper soft.
"What's so tricky about a Twilight Court?" Asher turns to me with a look that can only be labeled defiant.
I can't help but be dramatic.
"Twilight is most tricky because it is never only one thing. It is a time in transition, a time of unmaking and creation. It is the end of the night, the end of the day, but it is also the beginning of both. Twilight is the time for trickster kings. Kings that are both prince and pirate. It is a time for generous thieves and rock star knights. The ruler of the twilight realm is both despairingly pitiful and awesomely powerful. He's beyond description," I wax and wane and try to keep a dreamy expression at bay.
"And, you beat him?" She asks with a hungry look on her face, an expression that worries me deeply.
"At great cost," I answer gravely. "You see most people wander into Fairy, into paranormal escapades. They take a wrong turn in the woods during a solstice," here I cast a glance in Rachel's direction," or find themselves talking to the wrong person in a dark cafe in Prague," this time I slide my eyes to Emma who blushes. "I got myself into trouble with the master of the Labyrinth, the king of dreams and twilight."
"What did you do?" Asher asks.
"I asked him to take away my baby brother and then I had to win him back," I reply. Even now the very idea of such a thing terrifies me. I can't believe I was ever so reckless—but then again, I can. Am I not still a little too reckless?
"And, he just showed up and did what you wanted?" Now she sounds incredulous.
"That's the scary part. I believed so strongly in the Goblin King that I drew his notice. One thing to always remember is that the Fey prey on human emotion, human desires. You don't want to catch their eye," I say. "And that, my girl, leads us to the house rules," I begin.
"Rule number one: Under no circumstance should you ever use the word wish," Emma inserts with her best impression of me.
"Rule number two: Don't even think a wish," Rachel whispers seriously.
"And, finally, rule number three:" I take over with a mock stern glance at them both, "We do not take fruit from goblin men."
"Seriously?" Asher looks from the girls then to me.
"Deadly serious," I answer.
"Are there goblins here as well as fairies?"
"No, but that doesn't mean you'll never run into one and it's a good rule to keep," I reply. "Now finish up your tea it's getting cold."
I am glad to be back out in the fresh air after tea. The girls are helping Asher unpack while Faust and I take a walk in the woods. I walk, he runs up and down the path, a black and white blur of border collie madness.
Asher worries me. Like Jude—like myself—there is a something in her eyes that makes me think she has unfinished business. She's not safe.
Clair told me she had come from an Autumn Court. The girl hadn't said much about her time in Fairy, but I would imagine an Autumn Court is similar to a Twilight Kingdom, a court that thrives in a place inbetween.
"I'll have to be patient with her."
I don't realize that I've spoken the last words aloud until I hear the snicker.
Neither trees nor Faust snicker.
My heart begins to race behind the cage of my ribs. Sweat slicks my palms, my spine, the way it always does when I see a glimmer of white in the trees at dusk or find a feather on the windowsill. But, it's been thirteen years since I last heard his voice.
Slowly, I glance back down the path the way I came. The fading light of evening does nothing to conceal the Goblin King. It turns his cornsilk hair to gold and softens the jagged features of his face. His eyes are sharp as ever though.
"You'll have to be more than patient, darling. That girl will bring you nothing but trouble," he smiles as if the very thought is pleasing to him. I would reply, but my tongue is tied in knots just like my stomach.
Oh boy, I've not written a longer fic in quite some time. I'm not sure where this one came from, but I excited to have a little fun with it! And, the Jude mentioned in not my character. I stole her from Holly Black for just a second. If you haven't red The Cruel Prince, you should stop what you're doing right now and go read it. Until next time!