Page 22 of The Wind and the Wild (The Keepers of Faerie #1)

S potting the path Aidyn’s boots made through the leaves, I take a few steps into the brambles, half expecting him to be peeking back at me through the spring leaves.

“ Aidyn? ” I call.

“ It’s only a few dozen steps down!” comes his faint voice. I don’t see anything through the thicket, but perhaps that means nothing. Rushing water beckons in the Faerie heat.

Of course he expected me to follow.

A little arrogant, but such is to be expected.

He was not incorrect, after all.

Glancing at the bees humming nearby and remembering his warning not to get too close, then at the little tunnel we crawled from, I creep between the path of gaps in the undergrowth.

Water trickles nearby, small rivers gathering toward the falls.

It’s so oddly peaceful here, the stillness to the air indescribable and impossible in the human world.

If Una and Niall would ever dare come here, they would love it just as much. In a way, I am grateful they don’t. I watch the way Una worries over me, and I’d hate to be fretting constantly if both my best friends took to traipsing off into Faerie whenever it suited them.

Hypocritical of me? Perhaps.

“ What are you?”

I squeak, caught off guard for the countless time.

Whipping around toward whoever spoke—it was certainly not Aidyn with his water-calm voice—I spot a pair of eyes gazing out at me from beneath a clutch of berries.

Cocking my head, I crouch to get a better view of it under all the scrubby little leaves.

I’ve seen brownies before, of course, cute things that nest in cottage eaves.

This is not a brownie.

In truth, I’ve no idea what it is. A squat little body and frogish legs crouch beneath the prickly leaves. Little pale hairs sprout from gray skin, and its face is squashed and flat, stuck into a permanent scowl.

It would be a little cute... if I weren’t looking at a creature on the dangerous side of Faerie.

Aidyn is a creature on the dangerous side of Faerie.

Glancing around, uncertain if I’m more concerned if Aidyn will or won’t reappear, I say, “ Hello. ”

“ What are you?” it asks again.

Not exactly a normal question, but this is the side of the woods where humans are not the only things that speak. “ Um .. . a human? ”

It blinks at me and says nothing more. I peer into the brambles at the thin path Aidyn has taken, then back to the creature. It seems strange to turn my back on it but stranger still to linger.

“ What happened to your finger, little human?”

I bite the inside of my lip. Coming from a tiny creature, the question is almost funny.

I try to pick out memories of all the tales I’ve heard of Faerie and how to converse with one.

It cannot be the same as conversing with Aidyn, and I never know if I am doing that well.

The only thing of value I can pick out is not to be rude but not to be weak.

“ I was attacked by a Faerie hound,” I tell it, not remembering the term Aidyn used and less willing to speak it if I did. I don’t wish to act as if I know too much.

Is Aidyn supposed to be interacting with me?

Glancing his way, I find the brambles empty as ever. I am almost certain this means nothing—Aidyn appeared right beneath me on the bookshelf with barely a brush of his feet. He may be about to appear from behind the nearest leaf.

“ Why so?”

Honest again, I say, “ Because I knew no better.”

It cocks its head at me. Unfolding its legs with a series of pops and clicks, it unravels into a much longer creature than I imagined, all legs and arms and bony joints, crawling up through the brambles to look me in the eye.

I manage not to step back. Though still no taller than my knee, it is distinctly unnerving nonetheless, and I press my hands into my skirts to hide my fists.

“ You think we pretty things are less dangerous than the boy who left you to die?” it asks, head rolling so far against its neck it appears to have no joints.

I blink, stepping back. A sharp pinch behind my chest has me catching my breath.

“ How did you—”

“ Know? ” it asks, drool seeping from the corner of its mouth. The strange pain grows sharper. “ I—eeek!”

A long hand snatches it from its bush, and I jump at Aidyn’s sudden presence. He drags it out of the thorns and holds it to eye level, displeasure twisting his mouth. The pain breaks like a string snapping, and I find my hand on my chest.

It shrieks and flails like a dragonfly caught by the tail. Aidyn’s expression turns unimpressed.

“ What do you think you’re doing?” he asks as if someone has spilled his porridge, and I take a moment to realize he’s asking the creature, not me. “ I thought I chased you off.”

It continues with its flailing and shrieking, and Aidyn sighs. Letting it go, he bends and hisses, “ Stay away,” as it flops into a ball and scatters away in a tangle of limbs.

Straightening, he smooths his pants and wrinkles his nose.

His eyes drift to mine, then float to my hand still cupped against my chest. I drop it, feeling strange.

Now that the little creature is gone, I am suddenly very aware that I am alone in the woods with this strange faerie and that I was planning not to be.

There isn’t room to step back among the brambles—they’re already poking gently through my dress—but my legs are ready to run.

I remind myself there are no monsters here, but that is of less comfort than it should be.

Aidyn’s eyes return to mine, and he offers something akin to a smile, though it doesn’t touch his eyes. “ I didn’t realize it was still lurking here. I haven’t seen it in days.” He wrinkles his nose again. “ Even when you are a creature of Faerie, you are often surprised by its inhabitants.”

I stare up at him, unsure what to say.

He adds, “ It drinks off your emotions. Painful memories are strong. It likes discomfort.”

How did it know? I don’t want to ask because then I may have to explain. “ Why is it here?”

With a shrug of the shoulder, his eyes skid away, inspecting the berries. “ Me. ”

“ Oh.” I don’t want him to ask, so likewise I don’t push. If he wanted to share, he would. Faerie knows I’ve nudged him enough already. Still, I glance at the cane beneath the palm of his hand and wonder about the specifics of his painful memories.

Suddenly, he straightens, offering a better smile. “ If you come across it again, just walk away. They are not physically dangerous. They do not even have teeth.”

He flashes a bit too much of his own, but it’s a strangely gentle gesture, an unnerving but friendly wolf. I try to match it and don’t care for the result.

“ Come along, Bluebell ,” he says with the same great attempt at true cheer, making a gesture as if he’s going to take my hand again, then catching my tension and heading back through the brambles without me.

Watching him go, I get the sudden impression he knows what has upset me.

At the very least, he’s not pestering me, and he’s giving me space.

For a strange creature of Faerie, it’s much more than expected.

Still, he pauses at the edge of the thicket and gestures, just the tops of his fingers visible.

“ Come along!” he calls again. “ Just to right here. I don’t want you getting lost.”

Glancing at the top of the library peeking through the trees, the burrow we came through, and back to him, I tell myself, A few more steps is no harm. The way he says it is not patronizing. He seems genuinely concerned.

I have never walked in the woods since, not with anyone else. Not if I don’t count Niall or Una wandering the edges of the trees with me. And those two I would never count as a danger.

His hand pops up again to usher me along, and I stare after it.

You think we pretty things are less dangerous than the boy who left you to die?

Suddenly hot with rage at the petty little creature, I force myself after him.

What is that thing to attempt to frighten me? It does not even have teeth or claws.

And I have met things with teeth and claws.

I wish to spend time with Aidyn, and so I shall.

I can still see the library, and these woods are open and bright. It is about time I rid myself of this ridiculous fear anyhow. At the very least, I can try.

Heart thumping, I maneuver through the sharp thorns and ripe handfuls of berries until I nearly bump into Aidyn where he has paused to wait for me.

All at once, the ground falls away, and the gentle rush of water becomes louder.

It pools in glistening swirls beneath a gentle set of falls, berry bushes circling the stony ground.

I didn’t see this at all. The waterfall is tall enough to see. Glancing back, I still catch the top of the library through the trees and over the brambles and the tree from where we came. Frowning, I look back and forth.

“ Distances are strange things here,” Aidyn says, his soft voice startling me atop all my nerves of being alongside him. Una would be mortified. “ So is time. As I mentioned, you should not be wandering farther without me.”

Something about the quiet way he says it has my heart jumping. When I glance up, his eyes soften further.

“ Do not worry,” he says. “ It would take a great deal for me to be lost in this place. I was born of these lands.”

He can be as comforting as he likes—my heart is still pounding against my ribs. All the bravado disappeared the moment he came into my line of sight.

Trading the woods with one stranger for another, and this one dangerous more than cowardly, at that.

Hopefully I am a wiser choice in my friends than I once was.

Can he see my pulse in my throat?

Abruptly, his expression brightens. “ Come, come, ” he says, maneuvering down the rocks toward the edge of the water. After another comforting glance at the library, I follow. My legs move as lead, but they move.