Page 14 of Twisting Twilight (Homesteader Hearth Witch #9)

CHAPTER EIGHT

Upon the sun-streaked outcropping, the Redbudians turned their attention to the fae male left behind.

He was handsome in the way all fae were with high cheekbones and chiseled lips, but noticeably taller and even more noticeably lacking their lean lethality.

The scholar was built like my cousin Boar. Like Arthur.

His beautiful eyes—onyx ringed in gold—darted to the side under his long black lashes like minnows flitting from sunlight to shadow when a stork passes by.

He hunched under the weight of our combined scrutiny, seemingly to make himself smaller and less the mountain of a fae he truly was.

It was an impossible task, one that he should abandon immediately if he had any compassion on his spine.

Upon his shoulder, his opossum peered down at Sawyer with bright black eyes.

The tomcat met the opossum’s stare with his chin lifted.

Then his tail lashed, and the opossum hissed.

And thus began (undoubtedly) the competition of who was the best animal companion.

I felt Sawyer drawing on his magic for a spell to begin the first round of this feud and quickly fisted one hand into his scruff.

“Quit it,” I told him through the bond.

“He started it!”

Flora was the first to break the actual silence. “You’re unusually tall. Even for a high fae.”

Color bloomed on his cheeks and the tips of his ears. He hunched even more. “O-oh, um…”

Daphne gave Flora a nudge with her foot. “Manners,” she whisper-hissed.

“What? We’re supposed to be inconspicuous and that fella”—she jerked her thumb at him—“obviously ate his spinach with a side of steroids. He’s the size of a skyscraper!”

“It’s probably a good idea not to antagonize our guide.” I gave the fae male an apologetic smile. “Master Tiernan?” I began quickly, remembering the name from last night. “Thank you for?—”

“Oh!” the male protested, waving his hands. “I’m Junior Kian ó Cuinn. His, um, student?”

A student who didn’t have his master’s leave, judging by the way Kian glanced from left to right as if he expected his elder to leap out from behind the nearest tree and haul him back to the inner grove by his ear.

With the way he hunched his shoulders, his master wouldn’t have to jump too high to reach it.

“Student? You mean idiot. He just gave us his full name!” Sawyer exclaimed. At least he had the grace to do it privately.

The Redbudians caught the slip-up too, Flora peering up at him as if his mere existence baffled her. It probably did, for no fae who wasn’t the village idiot went about offering his full name up like that. But if Shannon trusted him…

“Pleased to meet you, Kian,” I said quickly. “This is Mare, Honey, Quills, Coon, and Beaver. Oh, and Stripes. I’m Misty.”

He pointed to the opossum on his shoulder and said brightly, “This is Fiachna.”

“Hello, Fiachna.”

There was a long pause.

“I-I’m sure you’re probably wondering what I’m doing here, a junior scholar of the Solstice Court.

” Kian let out a nervous, one-note chuckle then caught himself fiddling with his sextant.

He quickly pocketed it. “Scholars are sent out to every court during solstices, equinoxes, full moons, new moons, eclipses?—”

“You’re burning daylight and valuable escape time,” Flora interrupted. “We get it. And?”

She got another nudge from Daphne’s foot for that.

“W-we witness and record historical events, preserving them without bias,” he answered quickly.

“The Blight is not something discussed in polite company, and we’re not encouraged to dig deeper into its history.

It’s seen as a waste of time, because the high lord and lady defeated it, right?

When the high lady explained your, erm, situation to my master, he naturally sided with the high lord. So I’m the one here to help you.”

The garden gnome gestured for him to elaborate. “Because…?”

“Well, because”—he cleared his throat and settled his gaze on me, a sparkle coming to his eyes when I lifted my brows in polite expectation—“your little quest just might be the last piece I need to prove my theory and complete my thesis for my master’s degree!

Then I’ll get a position in a foreign court as a Head Historian or a Sovereign Scholar and?—”

I’d stopped listening after he’d classified my quest as little . My brother’s life was at stake, I had a town to liberate, and a bear— I shoved the thought away before memory of a certain pair of hazel eyes flashing amber could cut the heart out of me.

With surprisingly nimble fingers, Kian undid the top three buttons of his coat. “Fiachna, my fire opal lorgnette, please.”

Toenails digging into the thick canvas of the coat, the opossum scurried down from the male’s shoulder to a large pocket and began rooting around.

The fae male did the same, but on the inside of the coat, extracting a leather-bound book—correction, tome —at almost the same time the opossum produced a pair of handled spectacles of red-orange glass.

Fiachna gave Sawyer a smug, challenging look. Does your master entrust priceless spectacles into your care, hmm?

The tomcat squirmed in my arms with a frustrated yowl.

Oblivious to the feud, Kian sucked in an excited breath. “So this?—”

“Son,” Emmett interrupted gently, “can we pick this up in a moment? I do believe the high lady wanted us to escape. We should probably work on putting some distance between us and them, don’t you think?”

“Oh, right! Um, this way.”

This time, Daphne stopped him. She held up a hand like she was attempting to calm a spooked horse. “Hold on, dear. We’re supposed to be as inconspicuous as possible. I daresay that gilded mask might catch someone’s attention.”

“Oh!” the fae exclaimed once again. He removed the winged mask and slipped it into his pocket with the sextant.

“And the hair?” Shari asked, curious. “Did you deliberately dye it like a 1990s boy band?”

He ran a self-conscious hand through his black locks, the golden tips glittering in the morning light. “Can’t do anything about that. I was born during a solar eclipse.”

“Now that he’s appropriately de-blingified, can we go now?” Flora asked. “Have any of you seen the inside of a fae prison? Not pretty.”

“How would you know?” Daphne asked. “You’re part of the Fair Folk diaspora yourself.”

“Bother me not with details, woman. You, Book Boy, lead the way.”

“Just a sec.” I produced the vial of shrouding powder and tapped about half its contents into my hand.

“I’m going to sprinkle this over everyone’s heads, and when I do, turn a circle three times.

The amulets might protect our identities, but this should make us basically invisible to trackers, at least for a while. ”

When that was done and we’d all regained our senses after the circling, the fae male hugged his arms tight across his body, trapping the book against his chest, and started off.

The opossum hung on to his shoulder with the practiced ease of a creature having become accustomed to the fae’s bobbing gait.

Kian guided us down a switchback trail that even mountain goats would’ve had a hard time navigating.

Flora and I grew vines out of the rock face into a rope-like railing to prevent anyone from falling to their deaths.

Easy green magic, and its ease stung me that I wasn’t equally proficient in the rest of my affinities.

Violet’s words drifted into the forefront of my mind as I sucked in a calming breath.

‘We obey one rule, child. The only rule that governs Nature itself: growth .’ It was my duty to grow into the power that my coven had curbed all my life, even if that meant the road to mastery was paved with baby steps.

Sawyer hopped from rock to rock ahead of us, shoving the loose stones out of the way so we wouldn’t slip. He threw a self-satisfied look up at the opossum. Spectacles? No. She entrusts me with the lives of her and her friends. Beat that.

Fiachna growled.

“Shhh,” Kian murmured soothingly. “We’re nearly there. I know this excessive walking can make your tummy upset, but please don’t vomit on my coat again.”

When we finally reached the grassland below, the Redbudians gave each other relieved smiles for a job well done.

“So, as I was saying,” Kian began again.

“Shush,” Cody told him. He snapped his fingers to get the group’s attention. “We need some rope. Check your packs.”

We found none, and as Flora and I teamed up yet again to grow some—this time from the tough prairie grass—Daphne inquired as to why he wanted it.

“Because something tells me this boy can’t walk and talk at the same time and I want to go home sooner rather than later.” Cody paused to purse his lips to cease their trembling, then forced a swallow. His voice cracked when he barked at Kian, “Arms up!”

Oblivious to the fact that he had the size, strength, and speed to snap Cody in half like a toothpick without a second thought, not to mention the aura to make the old man quit bullying him, the junior scholar immediately flung his hands into the air and held his precious book aloft above his head.

Cody swung the rope around the fae’s waist, fastened a snug square knot, then set off at a brisk march with the rope’s other end in his fist. A few strides later, the fae male yelped as the rope snapped taut and he was yanked forward.

“You said north, right?” Cody asked without turning around.

“Y-yes. And I am fully capable of walking, you know. I’m not a youngling who needs led around by the hand. This is so, so?—”

“Shaddap.”

Kian was easily double if not triple Cody’s weight, but the old carpenter was determined to return with all due haste to the bear shifter who was more a son to him than an apprentice.

He only struggled a moment before Emmett took hold of the rope and lent his support.

Daphne and Shari joined them—Shari mostly so she could occupy her hands and not get left behind—with Flora on Shari’s shoulder so she wouldn’t get lost in the tall grass.

And so our party began its official escape from the Court of Beasts by crossing the prairie with four humans pulling a lassoed fae behind them with a witch and her familiar bringing up the rear.