I opened my eyes again in surprise. “It feels mortal. Like the other side of the Veil.”
“Itismortal,” Amadan said. “You brought a pocket of Faery into the mortal realm, did you not?”
Malcolm.I’d slowed time in his room to stop the path of his illness. I never thought that small magic would impact the realm of the fae.
“This is the echo of your deeds, my liege. There will always be one, and you must pay attention to it. Balance matters more than anything to us fae.” He pulled on the reins of his horse, directing it away from the magicless patch. “Let us go around.”
And just as he said it, a tiny, winged creature fluttered into my shoulder.
Out came Amadan’s hand, with those uncanny long fingers. “Vermin.” He plucked her from my shoulder, letting her dangle for a moment from a single fragile wing.
“No!” I cried out and caught her just before Amadan let her fall to the ground.
The pixie clung to me, wings of delicate green spikes quivering with every motion, her chest heaving in panic.
Amadan rolled his eyes. “She’ll bite you.”
I did not care. “So did Duncan Smith bite me, when he’d a toothache and was out of his wits with the pain.”
Amadan rolled his eyes, visibly disinterested in anything to do with my mortal life. “Majesty, you should not waste your time or effort on one such as this.”
“I’ll be the judge of that.” I stroked the sprite with my finger, feeling the delicate warmth of her breath upon my skin. “We will not hurt ye, little one.”
“Only a thistle pixie,” Amadan supplied. “Such as you might find caught in your stocking. Crush it under your foot.”
Obviously, I would not. I brought the sprite to my eye level to examine her more closely. Her skin was green and knobby, even sprouting tiny leaves. I touched her slightly with the tip of my finger. She crept away but did not leave my hand. Her wings flexed behind her, and I noticed one of them was crumpled and wet.
No, there.
It was torn.
The sprite hugged her arms around herself and shivered. Her large eyes leaked violet tears.
I stooped over to examine the plants around me. To my right stood a willow tree, whose bark might do for pain. I scratched it with my fingernail, then offered my finger to the pixie. “Take it. Eat.”
Like the slightest brush of a feather, she licked the tip of my finger.
“Good. Now about that wing.” It was gossamer-thin, like the finest silk. Easily torn. I could not stitch it, with my enormous hands and their clumsy fingers, without causing her great pain.
Amadan heaved an aggrieved sigh. I paid him no mind.
My gaze caught upon another nearby tree, this one a maple leaking sap. Not the season for it, surely, but Faery grew as it would.
Faery sap was as sticky as in the mortal realm. I placed the sprite down gently on a tree stump and snatched up a handful of grass, sorting through it for the widest, yet most supple blade, then used it to gather the sap. Gingerly I scraped off the excess until only a thin veil remained. “Mab grant this works.”
I applied the makeshift bandage to her torn wing. She stared fearfully at first, but I stroked as lightly as I could, and added a final, “With the queen’s blessing,” as I touched her wing with my lips.
Her wing glowed, specks of light floating like scattered gold dust upon the air. Warmth flowed within my veins, and my heart kindled like the flame of a welcoming hearth.
The green grass blended perfectly into the torn wing. Not just in color. It vanished. The sprite waved first one wing and then another. Then both fluttered together. Had I not seen it with my own eyes, I would never have known she had been injured. Off she leapt, spinning a friendly little circle and brushing my cheek before she flew away.
“If you are quite through,” said Amadan dully, hoisting me back upon my steed.
It is most annoying to be so reprimanded by someone whose help you need to mount.
“She is my people too,” I said. “I care for all of them, from the highest of the Sith to the lowliest brownie.” I settled myself behind the sleeping Jamie, who had barely stirred throughout the encounter. What a tired little mite!
“I do not deny it,” Amadan asked. “But, Majesty, where does your healing come from?”
