Page 35 of The Wind and the Wild (The Keepers of Faerie #1)

F or two whole days, I do nothing much but watch the trees.

I assist Una with her dress and my own, attempt to assist with the last of the houses needing rethatching, and throw myself into the midsummer preparations as the heat of the day grows overbearing.

And throughout it all, I keep my eyes on the edge of the woods.

I do not dare travel the path where the wildcat was found—only the moon knows if I’d be able to find it on my own, its body hidden from my gaze as it was—though I consider often what other possible wounds the creature could’ve had.

I trust Aidyn’s judgment in thinking it was not just a battle with the hounds, but I cannot imagine many things could fell such a large and magical creature.

Still, I dare not return. Aidyn’s warning sits in my ears: not to go where other fae might find me.

I have spent too long with him to be passed over as a regular human.

The thought is unsettling.

And strangely touching.

Aidyn has spoken to no other save for me, does not wish to be seen by the other humans here, and is hiding from his own kin—though I do not know why, it seems a strange solitary honor that he enjoys my company.

I enjoy his.

“ You’re blushing at a blade of grass,” Una says, deadpan.

I blink, looking up from my staring where we’re both seated under the shade of the edge of the woods, methodically bundling thatching.

The trees are cooler here, and we’re both in shorter light dresses, no shoes or stockings, our legs on the dirt to soak up the cold.

Close by, the men keep up with the midsummer preparations, some of the other girls from the nearer villages helping as well.

Some are giving Niall appreciative glances, but Una doesn’t seem to notice, nor does Niall appear to care.

I manage not to smirk.

We are quite close to Faerie here, but it is broad daylight; besides, it isn’t so obvious I’m staring into the trees if we’re right inside them.

“ No, I’ m not. ”

Una ’s eyebrows go up.

“ Well, it’s not about the grass. ”

She smacks my shoulder with her bundle of thatching before tossing it with the others. Nearby, a dozen children are working on their own bundles, albeit with more time wasted. They’re not close enough to overhear our words.

“ I’m worried about Aidyn,” I say, pulling the rough twine too tight against my finger. “ I wouldn’t like being in that library all by myself for so many days.”

She smirks, much too knowing, but glances at the woods herself, gnawing her lip.

As before, I confided in both her and Niall the warning Aidyn gave to stay indoors.

I don’t wish them in even a bit of harm’s way—most of the villagers are prone to staying inside all night as it is.

One becomes used to such things, dwelling in a village on the edge of Faerie, with midsummer approaching upon it all.

I rub my hand. The twisted little finger doesn’t appreciate the manual work, but it’ll stop being sore after another day or two. Besides, it’s good to keep that hand as strong as I can manage.

“ I haven’t heard anything at night,” Una whispers, glancing at Niall as much as I’d be glancing at Aidyn. I should tease about her blushing as much as she teases me.

This doesn’t feel the same.

“ He didn’t necessarily say we’d hear anything, just wanted us to be cautious.”

I say it with a shrug, but my unconvinced expression matches hers.

Something feels different from when Aidyn first asked the other Gentry for aid, either because I saw the wildcat or because I never could bring myself to check for the body of the hunt hound Aidyn dispatched of that wasn’t supposed to still be haunting the borders of Faerie.

Or perhaps because the first time they did not come at all.

“ Perhaps they’ve already come and gone,” I add. “ Aidyn only said a few days again, just told me if I was wiser I’d stay away a week.”

“ Ah, so he knows you’re a moonlight-born fool as well,” Una says dryly, still not appearing soothed.

“ Yes, he’s quite aware. I think he is too, he’s just too elegant for it to be noticeable.”

“ Elegant, ” she says, as if I’ve been caught saying something embarrassing.

“ Yes,” I say primly. “ Elegant. ”

“ I can’t believe you brought him into Nevyan and didn’t tell us. We were in the same lands.”

“ Do you want to see him?” I ask, knowing the answer but wishing to watch her squirm.

Squirm she does, readjusting on the grass. “ I’ve never seen a true faerie, and you keep speaking about him.”

She has me trapped in that respect. Smirking at the bundle of thatching, I toss it onto the pile. “ I thought about it as I was going to get him, then couldn’t decide if I should. We’re not supposed to be doing this, anyhow.”

“ No, you’re not,” she agrees, unbothered. “ Niall is becoming quite concerned.”

“ Oh, simply Niall?”

“ Of course. You’ve said he isn’t dangerous.” She gazes at me intently.

I roll my eyes. “ Very subtle. I didn’t say he’s not dangerous. I said I don’t believe he’s malicious.”

These days I’ve remained home, I haven’t rid myself of the memory of his expression when he looked down upon the creature we found in the grass.

Struggle as I may, I cannot imagine myself under any threat from a faerie who mourns over things most humans would not.

Dangerous creature or not, he is all gentleness and concern, even the few times he’s been angry and close to truly frightening.

“ And the other fae might be,” Una mumbles, and we both glance again into the trees.

“ Might be, yes.”

Half a dozen girls from the next village hustle our way—after baking for years of midsummer festivals, I’m rather well-known in the two other little hamlets. Three baskets I brought for lunch, and the girls are starting to get the hint.

Una and I exchange glances, the topic dropped.

“ Help yourselves,” I say, pushing the basket farther toward them with my foot while they settle and pull out breads and jams and help with the thatching.

They all echo hellos and continue with whatever boy they’re talking about and who he’ll pick to dance with.

Una looks to be trying not to laugh and stuffs half an oil-cooked cake into her mouth, sugar on her lips.

Boys are always the main topic of conversation around midsummer, and this year is no exception.

I’m positive that were I to eavesdrop on the cluster of men and boys where Niall is working, I’d hear nothing but talk of girls.

Glancing again at the sun-bright trees and picking up my own pastry, I squint into the depths where it finally grows dimmer.

Aidyn could be out there watching over us.

I’d be none the wiser, and it almost seems like something he would attempt, especially with the way I found him perched on the roof the other day, guarding the trees for me to appear.

Hopefully he is resting well after our little adventure through the woods—

One of the girls pokes me in the leg.

“ Hmm? ” I ask, blinking at the group looking at me expectantly.

Una snorts. I restrain myself from pushing the cake into her face.

“ Have you seen him lately?” the girl asks. She’s no more than a few years my younger, with pretty brown hair. I remember her vaguely from the previous festivals.

“ Who? ”

“ Blain. Everyone says you two courted?”

Una stops chewing. I ’d be more irritated if I weren’t concerned I’ll have to wrestle her down. Gossip travels, but I suppose these girls haven’t heard the specifics, or they wouldn’t be asking.

“ Oh,” I say a little lamely. “ No, I haven’t.”

She seems disappointed.

Another says, “ He’s handsome.”

The group dissolves back into chatter as another says, “ He and his father just returned from the city. I heard they’re growing their business larger than they can account for here—”

I manage not to roll my eyes as I return to my thatching.

They can have him; perhaps he’s entirely less a coward when he’s in the city.

He and his family work in trading all sorts of items, and I’ve no idea what’s earning them so much they need to expand.

I couldn’t care less. All the gold in the world wouldn’t have me touching him even one more time.

Niall heads our way, eyeballing the basket of breads and pastries, and I relax. His presence, and Una’s furious expression as she chews her cake with some amount of violence, are steady, comforting.

“ Don’t return yet,” she whispers to me softly, and I don’t need ask what topic she’s switched to while the girls ignore us.

“ I’m not, not for a while,” I remind her... and myself. “ The others have likely already come and gone. I’m merely staying extra days as a precaution, because Aidyn is worried.”

“ Yes, already come and gone,” Una mumbles, picking at the tangled twine.

“ Come and gone,” I say again.

Come and gone.

Aidyn folds his hands across his chest, gazing at the bright midday tree canopy.

I cannot directly picture his face. How we got here, on the human side of the woods, I’m uncertain, and I don’t much care.

Rolling onto my stomach, I prop my chin on my hands and gaze at him.

His hair falls in gentle locks around his shoulders, and it is high time I put my fingers in it as I’ve been considering. As I imagined, it’s soft as water.

“ Are you enjoying yourself?” he murmurs, sounding half asleep, but his lips are tugging into a smile.

I braid the tiny section of hair at the end. “ Whatever do you mean?”

“ Hmm.”

I toss the lock of hair over his face, and he blows it out of the way, cracking one eye to look at me. “ Why do you like to come here, Niamh?”

He knows my name.

No, that’s not right. I never told him.

“ What?”

He rolls over, turning me onto my back, face inches from mine. His breath smells strange, not sweet as the few times he’s leaned close. It smells human.

“ You know what happens to silly girls who like to venture into Faerie. Their clothes are torn as their minds. Maybe I should protect you—”