Page 34 of The Wind and the Wild (The Keepers of Faerie #1)

His hand scoops up the nearest kitten, and he inspects it carefully, combing the short tufts of fur.

I wonder how he tells the other fae they are needed here without revealing himself.

I tuck the thought away as something to ask later, when I have better earned his trust. Besides, if he and these monsters are anything to go by, I’m not particularly comforted by the idea of running into another of his kin, Gentry or not.

The more I spend my days here, learning the way Aidyn carries himself and the tidbits about his life he offers like crumbs, the more I come to understand that perhaps he is one of the kinder, gentler of the fair folk I could’ve happened across.

If his kin are coming here to fight monsters he evidently fears, I should very much not like to meet them.

Glancing up, he reaches forward with a sudden movement and brushes at one leftover tear with his fingertip. No surprise is in his expression, but I cannot help but wonder if fae can cry at all.

“ You are thinking,” he whispers, and I hope he does not wish me away. The sadness has not left his posture, his expression.

I take a long breath, grasping for a different topic, something lighter. “ How do you go anywhere you please in Faerie?”

He nods slightly. “ Partially, it is our innate magic. We are born of these lands and have ways about it none can replicate. At least, we may go anywhere within our own realms.”

“ Realms? ”

“ Faerie is not all one place. The borderlands you think of are only part of them. I was born of these places, so I may go anywhere within them. But there are many realms and courts within Faerie—I cannot travel within them so easily. They are too far for you ever to become lost in.”

I blink, slowly grasping at his words. Faerie is much larger than I ever imagined if these lands are no more than the edges. “ So, you can go anywhere in your own realm simply because you are born to it?”

“ Yes. But it is easier if we are given something of these lands by someone who dwells here.”

Taking the honey off the shelf—it is getting low—I dig some out for the kittens and their tiny teeth. “ How do you mean?”

“ If we are gifted something, given with a full heart and not under any threat or duress—a pure gift, essentially—and that thing is of our lands, we may hold on to it, and wherever we wish to go, we are much more likely to find ourselves there, in much a shorter time than one would walk.”

“ Just . . . any gift?”

He nods. “ Any gift. Usually it is something easy to carry with us.” Working the smallest silver ring off his pinky, he hands it to me.

“ If I gave this to you and told you to keep it, or only told you to keep it for, say, a day or three, any time you held it or wore it, you’d very likely be able to walk anywhere you wish in Faerie and arrive there within a matter of minutes or hours.

The purer the intentions of the gift, the better the magic works. It is not a thing easily given.”

I cradle the tiny ring in my palm, feeling the cold weight of it, wondering at its value. “ Is this the gift someone gave you?”

“ Not that one, no,” he says, retrieving it. “ It was a gift, but not for that purpose.” He twirls a ring on his forefinger, braided silver, with the smallest glimmer I think it perhaps may be a diamond or similar stone. “ This was. It has not failed me.”

“ Who gave it to you?”

Expression twitching, he gazes at it for so long I believe he may not answer. “ My father.”

“ It is very beautiful.”

“ Yes. ” Working it off, he hands it to me. I expect something strange when it touches my fingertips—some magic, like when Aidyn’s hand brushes mine or when he sends the wind rising. But it seems no more than a ring, the glimmer of a stone I saw a strange blue-streaked gem no larger than a seed.

“ Very beautiful,” I mumble again. “ Does he look like you?”

“ Hmm? ”

“ Your father . . . Do you look like him?”

At his quiet, I glance up.

He is considering. “ Perhaps a bit in the face. We have the same eyes. We are not alike—not truly.” A moment passes. “ I am told I have my mother’s countenance, but I did not know her. Do you look like your parents?”

I wish to ask after the last comment, about his mam, but he is evidently changing the subject. “ A little bit of each, yes. My da is a big man; he’s the only reason I’m as tall as I am—”

His lip quirks.

“ And I am tall, thank you very much. I would be taller, but moonlight.”

“ Moonlight?” he echoes.

“ Children born in moonlight are said to be smaller. Didn’t you know?”

His expression is impassive, thoughtful. “ Hmm, no. No wonder you talk to fae. Moonlight.”

I shrug. “ You have better berries on your side of the border.”

Another crack of a smile, but it hasn’t touched his eyes through the whole conversation.

I am trying not to consider the wildcat but have the kittens clutched close to my chest, as many of them as I can gather into my arms, the rest in my lap, one still in Aidyn’s palms. I wish to take them home with me, but I know they are safer here even if food were not an issue.

My eyes slip to the sword resting on the floorboards, harmless.

“ Do I need to stay away again?” I ask, wondering if my voice sounds as sad to him as it does to me.

He shifts, no longer looking at me, just at the remnants of embers in the hearth. Between the muggy outside weather and the heat in here, I’m sweating. He appears unbothered.

“ It would be wise. In fact, stay in your home after evening if you can. Or near it. The others may come into your human side of the woods, if they come at all. You should keep yourself scarce.”

My heart leaps a bit as I consider the rest of the villagers. “ Should I warn anyone—”

“ No, that would be dangerous for you. I only mean that... you have spent much time with me, and if you were to come into direct contact with another of the Gentry, they may be able to tell. The rest of your humans are just... human.”

“ Tell how?”

He taps his nose, finally glancing my way.

Ah, yes, he can smell me. The concept that I may very well smell if I’ve been around Aidyn leaves me considerably unnerved, and I avoid his eyes, petting the kitten gnawing on my thumb.

“ How long?”

He shrugs, but his expression does not match the casual gesture. “ Another few days. A week if you’re wise. Forever if you’re wiser.”

“ Do you wish me to be wiser?” I ask, heart pushing against my ribs.

“ Not at all.”

I manage not to laugh. “ Good. Do you still have plenty of that soup I made you?”

He rolls his eyes. “ Yes. And I am perfectly capable of cooking for myself, yes.”

I have no doubts, but I dislike the idea of leaving him here, alone and with the kittens to care for.

I would hate if he were hurting, especially after all the walking.

I glance at the salves I left in little jars on his window where he stores all his other knickknacks I’ve yet to gather the courage to snoop in.

He hasn’t appeared to notice their sudden appearance.

“ Are you... going to ask them for help?” I mumble, uncertain I should be pushing the topic.

“ Yes, ’tis why I will call for them.”

“ I meant for you.”

He glances upward without raising his face, regarding me coolly, and I remember how dangerous he first appeared, standing below me on the bookshelf.

Bluntly, he says, “ No. ”

I nod, face burning, not knowing what to say or how to say it. I wish to offer him better help but cannot drag a creature of these other lands into being better cared for. “ Are you angry I asked?”

He lets out a long breath through the nose, and his eyes soften. “ No. You are quite a pushy little human.”

I press my lips together—he is not incorrect, after all.

“ ’Tis rather nice.”

Watching the kittens as I set them back into their basket, most already back asleep, I ignore my burning cheeks and ears. “ You’re certain you’ll be all right?”

“ Yes, quite,” he murmurs, then straightens as if shaking himself, putting a dramatic hand to his forehead. “ How didst I ever survive before you snooped about where you weren’t supposed to?”

I snort, then laugh a little more, not feeling it truly. My nerves must be weakening. It was already late in the afternoon when we returned here—no doubt I am pushing my luck in remaining.

As if knowing my thoughts, Aidyn rises, more unsteadily this time around; I don’t mention it, having already pushed the boundaries more than once today. “ I shall walk you back.”

Perhaps I should not allow him, perhaps I should suggest he stay here and ensure the kittens are fed, but I already feel jittery, unsafe on this side of Faerie. I am jealous of his presence already, knowing I will not see him for more than a few days.

What have you gotten yourself into, Niamh?

Besides, he already walked the entire woods about our little village—if he is well enough for such a thing, certainly he must be well enough for the tiny stroll to where I can lose myself back into the mortal trees.

Aidyn’s hand stays on my elbow as he takes me to the edge of the honeysuckle, our bodies long shadows in the gray light. Pausing at the heavy flowers, he smiles slightly.

“ Go along,” he says. “ I’d like to watch you disappear. It is too late to be out. Run all the way home at once.”

I open my mouth to make a suggestion I know is unwise—that he might, if he wishes, stay in my own cottage for a while, if he’d like to feel more at home.

We could even bring the kittens. He does not wish to be found by the other fae, for whatever reason, so it would be quite unlucky they would check for him in my own cottage—this abandoned library is much more conspicuous a hiding place.

I don’t believe he’d say yes. More so, I don’t believe it would be wise.

Not a single person would be able to suspect he was there.

Not unless it were midsummer night.

It is not so far away now.

I keep such thoughts to myself. Instead, I tell him, “ I may stay home the week, as you suggested; my friends will be quite cross with me for spending all my days here. Everyone is making preparations for midsummer, and I need to pull my weight.” I shrug. “ A little.”

It is difficult to see his expression in the lack of light, but he nods. “ I will manage to survive a short while without you bringing me blankets, I’ m certain. ”

His tone has me grinning. I don’t mention the little jars I left in his room with scraps of paper under them, scrawled with notes for which is good for what injury.

He didn’t even notice them when I put the honey jar back.

After all this time, I’ve still no concept of how he injured himself.

He is careful with his clothing and never mentions specifics, no matter how the conversation drifts toward it, skirting the edge of something too serious for him to broach.

Today was close, but not by much. Therefore, I left a bit of everything I have, made from varieties of herbs and such gathered throughout the seasons, little things for infections, cuts, burns, and fevers.

All work well enough for us humans, so perhaps one of them will do his a little bit of good.

Hopefully by the time I return he’ll have had time not to be annoyed with my concern. Besides, I’m not sure he’s actually irritated or just acting the part.

’Tis rather nice.

“ Pet the kittens for me,” I tell him, bouncing on my toes.

His hand is still on my elbow and slides down almost to my palm.

Warmth from his fingers sits against my wrist. I learned my lesson and have begun to wear cooler dresses on my trips into Faerie, so my arms are bare.

His head cocks slowly, and he looks down at me with the same strange faraway expression he had when I brought those quilts—though I noticed the next day that they were laid out atop the other covers, no longer folded up where I’d left them.

His lips part as if he intends upon speaking.

.. or something else. All at once, I am tense, aware of the trees around us and the falling darkness.

Aidyn’s eyes fall to my hand, which has twisted into an unintentional fist. He takes a soft step back, and I nearly follow him forward, immediately regretting the distance.

Bringing my hand up, he kisses my knuckles, barely the softest touch against the still-not-quite-healed skin.

I stare at him, wide-eyed, not breathing, before he nudges his chin toward the woods.

Softly, he says, “ The sun is going down.”

I nod, still not breathing, and turn to take off into the honeysuckle before I can think twice, closing my eyes until I know I am home.

Slowing to a stop in the mortal trees, I turn to inspect the hawthorn, the easy stillness and breeze of the human lands.

Touching my fingers to my hand where his lips brushed, I force myself to breathe properly and start up walking again.

Just because I am not in Faerie does not mean the hounds may not appear.

Run all the way home at once.

There will be fae swarming these trees soon, if his warnings are any indication.

I cannot help but consider how close the wildcat is, less than an hour if I ran as quickly as I could down the path through the village and toward the human kingdoms, its body sitting in the moonlight to be collected by others of its kin.

I shake the thought away.

If Aidyn kissed me on the edge of the Faerie woods, I do not think I would mind so much.

With such a strange thought swirling in my mind, I run home to my empty cottage.