Page 44 of The Wind and the Wild (The Keepers of Faerie #1)

R olling onto my knees, my ankle throbbing where I twisted it tripping like a fool, I stare at the place both the plum tree and burrow should be.

No matter how I squint, no library appears amid the dim of the trees.

After a moment of hearing nothing but my own heartbeat, it dawns on me what must’ve happened.

I fell, and I closed my eyes.

If I stumbled back at all, with my eyes closed, would Faerie consider that lost as when I run a dozen steps in? I have never tried simply closing my eyes and taking two or three steps.

I didn’t realize I’d done it this time.

I stumbled backward and must have closed my eyes as I fell. A natural instinct. Even Aidyn would have done such a thing.

But Aidyn cannot lose himself in Faerie—at least not here.

A few bees still buzz in the air, but I do not trust their existence. Their presence does not mean I am anywhere close to the library and its open, bright woods.

Maple trees and a bright sky thick with the scent of honeysuckle have been replaced by old oaks twisted and warped with age, bent over themselves in a strange dance. Rotting leaves and something overly sweet, like too many of the plums or overripe autumn apples, fill the air.

Carefully, I collect the scattered fruits back into their basket, abandoning the ones that have tumbled out of reach, unwilling to move from my spot until my heart stops pounding and my mind clears.

The straps along the top I never use work to tie the top closed.

If I fall again, I don’t want to lose the kittens’ food.

Keeping the basket looped over my elbow, I force myself to let out a breath, ignoring the all-enveloping nature of the air, and twist Aidyn’s ring gently about my finger. It was touching of him to give it to me, but I didn’t believe I would need it.

If for any reason you cannot find your way back, picture this place, and this will point your steps in the correct direction.

Simple enough. Something cracks in the woods, and I jump, chest aching.

Something resembling a deer gazes at me, too many eyes too large and bright in the shadowy woods.

Flowers cling to its back, lilies or something else I’ve only ever seen in faded ink illustrations in the pages of old books.

Its antlers are black wood—even from here I can see the grains. Its legs stand perfectly straight.

It turns and moves on without a sound. I watch the place it disappears without breathing.

Isn’t Faerie supposed to be enchanting?

Perhaps that is only the borders. Perhaps the rest of these lands are dangerous and like the fae themselves: unpredictable.

Besides, who knows where I’ve been deposited.

I think of Aidyn’s stories and his warnings of the fae they call Unblessed.

I don’t know if they are truly any more dangerous, but I hope the frightening nature of the trees is no indication of the folk dwelling within them.

Standing, I grimace, but I twisted my ankle worse when I was a child. I can walk on it.

Since I must.

Basket still over my arm, I turn the ring carefully, trying to sense whatever magic it was forged in, not knowing if I would recognize it if I could.

I take three steps in the direction the library should be, holding the picture of it in my mind as best I can.

It is a tad like picturing Aidyn when I am not with him—strangely fuzzy, like a dream from years ago called forth.

“ A big old library,” I mumble to myself, then think better of it with how the woods may be listening in and think the words instead.

It is two stories, with a strange basement door and a hole in the roof where leaves float in.

Two big maple trees are growing inside the floor.

Vines are growing over the door, but there is another door and a back door with a metal staircase and a winding staircase going up to the roof.

Several chimneys, and a small kitchen, and lots and lots of books—

Again, as if the ring will hear me, I whisper, “ A big old library—”

“ Well, that won’t help you—”

The moment I catch sight of the creature from the corner of my eye, I leap upon it, grabbing it by the neck like I’m wresting a snake, hauling it from the bark of the tree it clings to.

Its little fingers peel off bits of bark with a hundred cracks, and it squeaks.

It is considerably heavier than I expected, and I end up pinning it to the ground rather than attempting to hold it up.

“ You followed me here?” I ask, giving it a little shake, the snarl in my voice easier with the panic. “ So you know the way back. Show me .”

Snarling and squeaking, it flails its arms and legs, achieving nothing as they smack against my body like the finest branches, not even tearing my thin dress.

Sneaky and tricky it may be, but Aidyn’s right: it certainly is no physical threat.

I keep my hands locked about its collarbones, ignoring the plums it’s scattering, waiting for it to flail itself into exhaustion.

That strange sharp pain starts in my chest. Feeding on my distress, very likely.

Giving it another harsh shake, I snap, “ Don’t even consider it! I’m not letting you go until you take me back to the library!”

“ Humans are evil, ugly things!” it wails, spitting drool thick like fat.

I grimace and let it continue for a moment before considering there are certainly other things watching from the eyes of the Faerie woods. I clamp my hand over its toothless mouth. If possible, it looks more pathetic.

“ I’m much bigger than you,” I warn. “ And it isn’t as if I have anywhere else to be. ”

It continues struggling, albeit weaker, the pain in my chest remaining but not growing, until it finally flops still, glowering in return.

Releasing its mouth, I ask, “ Do you know how to take me back?”

“ You got yourself lost, silly human—”

“ Do you want my hand over your face again?”

Spitting, it flails a bit more before falling still.

“ Show me the way back.”

“ Why woulds I?”

Scrambling for something and biting the insides of my cheeks so I don’t cry in frustration, I say, “ Well, I’ll have to take you with me, and you can bask in me being miserable the whole time, now can’t you?”

Spreading its lips in a horrifying approximation of a smile, it says, “ I donst need you for that. You can’t be rid of me. I can follow you wherever you be—”

It bends one of its strangely jointed legs in my direction, and I realize what it’s doing in time to turn my head so its little toe doesn’t jab right into my eye.

Aidyn’s ring digs into my hand.

I don’t need it either.

Sitting on its chest while it screeches like a banshee, I tear the hem of my dress into one large strip.

After tying the creature up in an intricate bundle of limbs and stained cloth, I snatch up my basket and run.

Turning through my mind all the little details of the library I can and trying not to so much as blink against the hot sticky air, I’m slowed fairly quickly by my ankle.

A twisted ankle isn’t permanent. Faerie is. Ignore it and get home.

When I’ve run out of all the details I can recall, I think them again in a different panicked order, and then I list everything I can call to mind about Aidyn: the obvious features he maintains, then how his voice sounds in the gentle light of the evening, the way his eyes crinkle at the corners when he smiles, the fact that he is ill and I should be returning to him, hoping that the ring perhaps knows its last owner.

The sun sets, and I slow to a walk. I am going to lose my footing more in the utter dark—

And should it be taking so long?

Aidyn never said. It feels as if hours have passed, though perhaps that is my mind playing tricks.

“ Aidyn? ” I whisper, to be careful.

More bees buzz past in no distinct direction, and I consider if they are perhaps constant companions of Faerie.

At night? Bees fly at night?

Instead of utter darkness, I am greeted more and more by strange shimmering flowers. Pollen floats in the air, and I would be drawn to the beauty were I not fearful that breathing it in would enchant me forever.

How long can a human go unnoticed in Faerie?

Voices drift through the trees, and I lock my legs into place, leaning against the nearest tree for support.

It is not Aidyn’s voice.

It may very well be the creature having struggled out of its bonds and tracked me down, but there are more than one, and they are not familiar.

Letting my breath out in a long huff, I consider my next steps. If I move forward, toward the voices, who knows what I’ll be greeted with. But I cannot turn away. This is the direction I’ve been heading, and even if Aidyn’s gift is guiding me, I do not know if changing directions is wise.

Momentarily, I consider closing my eyes and simply losing myself elsewhere of the strange voices, but I very well may deposit myself somewhere much worse. Swaying, I creep forward as quietly as I can, breathing too loud behind my ears, fingers trembling.

I step around the nearest tree, and the song fades.

Nothing but a small clearing greets me, and in the dark of the night, I see a handful of shapes.

They could be nothing more than the undergrowth of the woods.

I am not stepping into the open, not in the dark.

Picking my way around the clearing, I watch the shadows from the corner of my eye, hoping none will do me the disservice of moving, intent on keeping to my path as best I can.

Another note of music, long and lyrical and strange, and I shove my fingers into my ears, tripping over roots and stars know what else as I finally pass the clearing and try to run.

I still hear it, whatever it may be, a lingering whisper inside my ears, disregarding my fingers.

It is very strange here. Warm and comforting.

If I sit down, my ankle won’t hurt so much. If I merely—

Stop.