“Oh, please hurry,” I chime. “I’m afraid I have a meeting with the fairy godmother, and I don’t want to be late.”
“Cute,” the mother says, obviously annoyed. “Frank! I need you to take a picture!”
A man wearing suction-cup satyr horns pops up from a nearby bench and draws his phone. The wife squeezes into my side, pinching my wing between our shoulders. Her children press their backs against the front of my skirt. I lift my chin and beam as if I’ve never had more fun. Several clicks later, they leave.
As soon as they’re out of sight, I reach into my skirt and peel off the sucker.Fuck. That’s going to leave a stain.
“Oh. My. God.” Arden grimaces, joining me again from where she’d waited near the benches. “Those people treated you like you were… a celebrity!”
“Hardly. Like their idea of a fairy.” I sigh. “It’s like I said before, I’m a character in a theme park. Most humans don’t think of us as equals or as people. We are things. Ideas. This is how Dragonfly makes its money.”
“I heard what you said, but it’s different seeing it.” She scratches the back of her head.
I turn her toward the center of Dragonfly Hollow. “That’s where we’re going. Let’s hurry before anyone else sees me.”
Godmother’s Tearoom is a cottage made of gingerbread at the end of a cobblestone pathway. Brown slabs of cookie form the walls and roof, magically held together by swaths of white frosting and decorated with an assortment of giant candy. Gigantic green-and-white swirling peppermints neighbor mounds of gummy confections while massive bright red imperials infuse the air with hot cinnamon fragrance.
Arden pokes a gigantic gummy bear in the stomach with her finger. “Is this real?” she asks.
“Yes. But don’t eat it,” I whisper. “Everything in Godmother’s tearoom is edible, but eat the wrong thing and you’ll pay a terrible price. Humans who partake are instantly addicted. They’ll come back again and again until they’ve spent all their money on the treats inside. If they’re strong enough to deny the urge, they’ll dream about this place, and the memory of it will haunt them until they die.”
Arden backs away from the bear and shoves her hands into her pockets.
“Stop scaring the girl, Sophia!” Godmother appears at the gingerbread entrance, her voice a deep timbre. Physically, she fills the space of the doorway, but her imposing presence extends far beyond her skin and bones.
In the human world, an increased body size is often seen as a negative thing. Human society values thinness, sometimes to the point of celebrating a sickly physique. In my time on the outside, I often wondered if they had some bizarre fetish for vulnerability. But here, body size correlates with power. Godmother is built like the human stereotype of an opera singer, tall, wide, and thick. Every bit of her advanced size is filled with luck and overflowing with power. The stones around her neck thrum with ancient energy. Her purple-and-black feather dress sparkles with magic. Twisted off her neck and pinned elegantly behind her head, her silky black hair creates a striking frame for her ebony complexion.
Godmother is a force of nature. Ageless and frighteningly beautiful. Imposing and aloof.
I curtsy but she ignores me and addresses Arden. “It’s not as bad as all that, child. Plenty of humans avoid eating my tearoom, and those who pay up front for what they eat suffer no ill consequences. Tell me, do you lick the walls of the restaurants you go to?”
Arden chuckles. “No, ma’am.”
“Exactly. Anyone dumb enough to taste a building deserves what’s coming to them.” Godmother’s gaze falls on me then, still holding my curtsy. “Oh, for the sake of Aibell! Get up and come inside. We open to the public in an hour, and we have much to discuss.”
I rise to follow her, but Arden nudges my elbow and whispers, “Who is Aibell?”
“Ancient fairy goddess,” I explain under my breath. “There are lots of them… gods, I mean. Fairy religion is pantheistic, and most individuals believe in multiple gods.”
Her eyebrows lift. I internally chastise myself again for not teaching her more about Devashire. In my defense, I’d wanted her to have a human life, free of all this. I’d hoped she’d never need it.
At Godmother’s direction, we take a seat at one of the tables inside, directly in front of a glass case filled with delectable pastries. Neither one of us had time to eat much this morning, and I watch Arden gaze at the case longingly as she sits down beside me. I’m too nervous to be hungry and too jaded to risk eating anything voluntarily in this place.
“Join us, Seven,” Godmother bellows over her shoulder.
I bristle as Seven appears from the back room and strides to the table, his face locked in that permanent closed-lip smile that always makes him look like he’s thinking about some lecherous secret. Gods, he’s a work of art. No man has any right to be that attractive. His black T-shirt clings to an insanely etched torso, touchable soft material hugging flesh that must feel hard in all the right places. I’m appreciating his abs when my eyes catch on the gun at his hip. Since when does Seven need a gun? He’s a leprechaun! He has enough luck to handle any situation without raising a finger.
“What’s he doing here?” I say, my voice thick. He’s stolen my breath again, left me with nothing but raspy syllables while I—oh for fuck’s sake, I look like a pink meringue!
Godmother raises an eyebrow. “He’s sponsoring you. He is the reasonyouare here, Sophia.” Her words hold an edge that makes me sit up straighter in my chair. I do not want to piss off Godmother. Seven works for her and paid for my recovery. Of course he’s here.
I fold my hands on the table and stare down at my threaded fingers.
“Better,” she says. “Now you are here today because you left Devashire without my blessing or permission and have potentially created a political situation between us and the human world. Explain yourself. And I warn you, make it good, because if it wasn’t for Seven, I wouldn’t have recovered you. If FIRE figures out you’re here, I’ll have a godsdamn mess on my hands. I have half a mind to spare myself the trouble and hand you back over.”
Seven winces at this pronouncement, his eyes settling beseechingly on me. Shit luck if he paid all that money and Godmother kicks me out. It might be worth it to get myself ejected just to sock one to him.
But mine is not the only ass on the line here. I’ve put Arden in danger, and this is the only place in the world I can make sure she’s safe right now. Her eyes are wide with nerves. Even though she has no experience with any of this, it’s clear she can feel the tension and understands the danger that fills these sweet walls. The worst part is I’ve never told her the entire story. She knows her father was human, but not the humiliating circumstances that led to her existence. I wanted to spare her that.
