“How do you kill them?”
“A broadhead arrow works quite well.”
“But that’s no help to me. I’ve never used a bow before.”
“Well, they don’t like fire, and sometimes noise can drive them away. It’s best not to run, though, since like most predators, they cannot resist a chase.”
My dream flashes through my mind, the huntsman chasing and chasing, and I study the forest, feeling Raff frown at my profile.
“I must admit,” he says finally. “Right at this moment, you remind me very much of my brother, overly concerned with those wretched creatures. Personally, I don’t understand the fascination.”
“And I don’t understand why you don’t help them.”
“It is forbidden. No Elemental is allowed to offer direct aid to them. To do so would risk immediate banishment from the kingdom.”
“But you’re a prince!”
“And you’ve met my mother.”
Yes, I have, and fortunately for me, I’m not an Elemental fae. As far as I know, I’m not forbidden to help them.
The way Raff’s casually dishing out information, it’s as if he hopes I’ll do something radical—make an escape bid, harass his brother. Anger the queen.
Well, I think the plan that’s currently forming in my mind might entertain him.
Giving him a sunny smile, I stand and brush dirt from my tunic. “Thank you, Raff, you’ve been very informative.”
Before he has the chance to ask what I mean by that, I pivot on my heels and walk briskly up the hill in the direction of the castle gardens.
“Where are you going?” Raff calls to my back.
“To work,” I reply, my fingers curling into fists. I hope he doesn’t try to stop me.
“Suit yourself, then.”
“Oh, don’t worry. I will.” I risk a glance over my shoulder.
A blade of grass between his lips, Raff throws himself backward onto a bed of wildflowers, and Spark scrambles onto his chest and chatters in his smiling face. The Prince of Fire is sweet to his mischievous mire fox.
Entering the garden, I find Magret weeding a patch of Swiss chard.
“How was your walk?” she inquires, her antlers quivering with interest as they incline toward me.
“Good. Raff’s the opposite of his brother, which is to say, he’s very charming. But, weirdly, it felt like he was checking me out for some reason. Testing me maybe.”
“Perhaps he wishes to take you as a bed companion.” She giggles into a dirt-covered palm.
“Uh, no. I don’t think so. Look, at all this, Magret,” I say, splaying my hands at the vegetables spilling everywhere. “Do you notice the crazy amounts of food lying around nearly rotting? Your kitchen staff probably can’t cook it fast enough.”
She nods. “Yes, we cannot possibly eat it all.”
“Food waste is a disgrace.”
“No. We turn what we can’t use into compost. It benefits the soil and makes it richer.”
“Raff told me about the mothers and babies out there in the forest, starving. How can you live with that?” I say, my voice rising as I fling around to face the shimmering castle and start marching away.
“Lara, wait…”
Ignoring her, I stalk to the mud-brick hut where the gardening equipment is kept and ferret around until I find what I need.
I return to the garden with a wicker basket that can be worn like a backpack. As I fill it with vegetables—carrots, beets, potatoes, and kale, Magret watches, silent and frowning.
Finally, she asks, “I’m not sure I want to hear your answer, but I must ask. What exactly are you doing?”
“I’m taking these to the moss elves. I just can’t bear the thought of them hungry, and I’m going to need your help, Magret.”
“I cannot… If I assisted, I could be banished. I—”
“All I’m asking is that you keep quiet about this. It’s not forbidden for me to aid the elves. Your laws don’t include me. Please? Think of the tiny babies.”
Resolution sets over her face. “Yes, I will keep your secret,” she says, cutting heads of a purple broccoli with swift slices before pitching them into my basket.
“I will find a way to distract the guards so that you aren’t seen and—”
“No need. I’m going to try and go through the mage’s house. You never know, she may want to help the moss elves.”
“The prince told you of the mage’s exit? That boy has always loved trouble. Were you a warrior back in the human world?”
I snort. “Far from it. But I never choose the easy way forward. And I’ve never walked past a hungry person without giving them something.”
“You are brave, then. And if you manage to get past the mage, you must follow the pathway that begins at her house, but do not go far into the forest. Leave the food at the red willow tree and return.”
“How will I find the tree?”
“Stay on the path and you cannot miss it. You’re not the first to do this. The elves know of the leaving place. Fae who have helped them before are now in exile, and I don’t know what will happen to you if you’re discovered.”
“It can’t be any worse than what the queen and Ever have planned. At least I might be able to do some good before they do something horrible to me.”
Ten minutes later, I’ve quenched my thirst with half a jug of water, strapped the heavy basket to my back, and I’m ready to go.
Magret walks me through the garden gate into the bustling city streets. So she appears in charge, she walks a few paces in front.
I bow my head and try not to make eye contact with fae traders who run the market stalls—their bodies a fascinating mix of fur and feathers in a rainbow of colors and textures. A heady smell infuses the air, so similar to coffee, it makes my mouth water.
Finally, we arrive at an unusual dwelling tucked into the farthest corner of the town. Covered in jutting wands of dark crystal as big as railway sleepers, it grows like a geode from the black city walls. It seems hardly big enough to house a donkey let alone a High Mage fae. A vaguely threatening energy pulses around its perimeter, giving me pause. But I remind myself, behind the house is the forest. And in the forest are hungry moss elves.
“I cannot enter with you,” says Magret. “Please be mindful of what you say to the High Mage. And don’t stay long in the forest.”
“I know. Leave the food and run.”
She gives me a worried smile and turns on her heels. Before facing the house, I wait until the tips of Magret’s antlers have disappeared from view.
Then I turn.
The door before me is blindingly white and emblazoned with the same bronze six-pointed star that decorates the entrance to the Emerald Castle, only a much smaller version.
With a trembling hand, I reach for a door knocker shaped like a huge spider and slam it against the white surface.
Once. Twice.
No answer.
My hand twists a knob made from a rough gold nugget, and I push the door open before I can change my mind. I hope this mage person is friendly.
The antechamber I enter has a soaring stained-glass ceiling that pours colored light into the ballroom-sized space. No way the house looked this big from the outside.