It struck me I hadn’t actually had to lie in the first place. The story I made up was a version of what had really happened, and if a witch was plausible to the people of Landsome, why not a sorceress?
“Sorrel,” Draw said slowly. “Tell me about her.”
I took a breath. What did I even know about Sorrel the Fairy Bookmother? “She’s quite a bit shorter than me, blond hair. Excellent style in clothing. Thinks she’s hilarious.”
Draw was taken aback. “I meant tell me what goddess she serves or where she comes from,” he said with extra enunciation. “I’m certainly not going to put up wanted posters across the countryside for someone who could hex my head off.”
“I don’t know any of that. I just met her this morning—yesterday morning, that is. She called herself a Fairy Bookmother.” I stared into the fire, wondering if I was breaking any rules. “Do you have a goddess of literature in these parts?”
Draw gave a small smile that eased the severity of his high cheekbones. “Most of the population can’t read, so I’d say no.” He cleared his throat and looked pensive. It seemed, at least, he believed me so far.
A thought struck me.
“Hey, why do you believe this and not my earlier story?”
Draw gave one harsh laugh, but instead of answering, he stood and poured us both a drink. I took the opportunity to look more closely around the room. A long and narrow bed with furs at the foot stood against the back wall. To the left was a large wooden wardrobe, on the right a tapestry and windows.
He handed me a finely carved wooden cup, made heavy only by the liquid inside. “Felicitations,” he said, and tapped my cup before settling himself back into the chair to take a sip. After swallowing, he took a long breath as if steeling himself. “I don’t usually give away this information, you should know, but besides the obvious cultural mishaps and language barriers, you have two tells that I know of so far.”
“Oh?”
“When you’re nervous, you spin that ring on your finger.”
I glanced down at the simple silver ring my grandmother had given me.Oh.I supposed that was true, but never would have guessed someone else would notice.
“Second, when you think you’re beingclever—” he exaggerated the word to make it clear he didn’t think I was clever when I thought I was, “—you get giddy. Like a naughty child getting away with something.”
He let that sink in for a moment. I finally took a sip. It wasn’t wine, but some odd, dark, distilled thing. I wasn’t sure I liked it. But I was thirsty. I hadn’t had anything since last night’s wine.
“Which brings us back to: who are you? Or if you’d like to skip to the ultimate question: why are you here?”
What could I say to that?
“That’s whatI’mtrying to figure out. Sorceresses can be very pushy—” I hoped Sorrel was listening, “—and she didn’t really say why I was coming. Believe me, I didn’t want to leave.”
Draw jumped on this. “Leave where?”
“My city. Mayfair.”
“Which is located in which kingdom? Don’t tell me you’re from across the Seas of Melancholy.”
“I’m from the United States.”
“And what continent is that on?”
“North America.”
Draw took another sip. I’d stumped him. I didn’t want to willingly offer more information, but for some reason, I didn’t want to lie to him either. He was smart, he’d see right through it, but more than that, he wasn’t rash like Ironclaw or the queen. I felt like he wanted information for its own value.
“Are you from the underworld?”
I burst out laughing. “Do I look like a demon to you?”
There was an opening for a joke, for him to compare me to a succubus like many cliché male fantasy characters would, but instead he grew thoughtful. I appreciated that. In fact, I was starting to quite like him.
“There’s a new field of science brewing...one that not many people ascribe merit to.” For the first time, he looked a little vulnerable. “In fact, most don’t even know that it’s growing. Only individuals who are literate and in correspondence with the Cosmic Society of the eastern country of Imbella could even know about a particular...theory. If you met both criteria, then you’d have to actually believe the research, and not a lot do.” He was rambling, something it seemed he didn’t do often.Was he nervous?Finally, he spit it out. “Are you from another planet?”
I smiled. The drink was warming something inside me. “What’s beyond the planets?”
