He knew her to be a faerie creature, so he hid behind a tree, but the birds cried out their warning. The woman called him forth and he knelt, begging her forgiveness and mercy. She said she was inclined to turn him into a stag. If she allowed her pack of wolves to chase him down, she would have venison for her supper.
But this only made the hunter smile.
“Please, goddess,” he begged, “make it so. I would welcomedeath if it meant spending even a moment between your lips. At least, as your supper, I will know what it is to be inside you, and to make you sigh with satisfaction.”
His boldness made the woman laugh, so she offered him a bargain, as the Fair Folk are wont to do: She would cast a spell that caused him to forget the location of her spring after twelve nights. But, if he could find her again, and bring her one item from the human world each night for twelve nights, then she would lift the spell, and he could visit her whenever he liked.
The hunter eagerly stood and offered her twelve items from his world immediately—his quiver of eleven arrows, and the beautiful longbow which had belonged to his grandfather.
The faerie woman rejected them.
“These were made from my forest,” she said. “My trees. The feathers from my birds. The stones from my earth. They are not of your world. You are only borrowing them.”
Desperate, the hunter began to strip his clothing off and toss it at her feet. Two boots, two stockings, an undershirt, a belt, a tunic, two gauntlets, two gloves, and finally, a pair of trousers.
“Twelve!” he crowed, standing naked before her. Again, his audacity made her laugh, and the beauty of his body tempted her enough that she nearly relented.
But again, she shook her head. “Cotton grows from the earth. Wool and leather are taken from the animals. Even the wooden toggles on your boots come from the trees.”
The hunter was not easily deterred. He took a step toward her, holding his arms outstretched, and declared: “Then I offer you all the pieces of myself, such as they are. Two swift feet, to do your bidding. Two willing knees, to worship at your altar and no other. Two broad shoulders, to carry any burden the world dares place upon you. Two strong arms, to shelter or avenge, build or destroy, according to your will. A mouth, to shout my devotion from the top of every mountain. And two scarred hands, steady with a bow, to defend whatever is most holy to you.”
The faerie stepped out of her pool and approached slowly, entranced by his words, and the light glimmering in his brilliant green eyes.
“That is only eleven, hunter.”
Knowing he risked his life in doing so, he took her hand and placed it on his own chest.
“One foolish and hopeful heart, to beat only at your command. That, I’m afraid, I have already given you...and not for the wide world would Ihave it back.”
As the tableau of light-borne figures faded away, and the crowd burst into applause, I brushed tears from my cheeks. Although the images Devil created had no defined features, I knew who they were. With my chest close to bursting with emotion, I looked up at Aliena.
“Is that…really how my parents met?”
She smiled and put a gentle hand on my back. “Lyric proudly told the tale to anyone who would listen, and it’s become something of a legend in the Arden. We thought you would want to hear it, especially after…what happened today.”
“Devil told you?”
“I’m so sorry, May. Titania has always been difficult. Fiery. Stubborn. Changeable. It’s in her nature. But I hope you know that the way she is now, it has nothing to do with you. Everything changed when she lost Lyric. That wound won’t ever heal, so please don’t tie yourself in knots trying.”
“I just…wanted her to know who I am,” I sighed. “I can never replace what she lost, and I don’t want to, but…if she could just seeme, and not her pain, maybe that would be enough.”
“I hope someday she will,” Aliena murmured. “You are worth knowing.”
“Thank you,” I whispered, throwing my arms around her neck. She held me for nearly a full minute, until Jon clapped his hands and called for another dance. Aliena’s companions picked up a lively tune and she brought out a fiddle to match it.
I watched the Fair Folk dance in intricate, weaving steps and patterns, but was far too embarrassed to set foot amongst them. The Sisters of Locksley, naturally, did not host such raucous parties, so I had only ever been a witness. For the first several songs, I simply clapped along, laughing while Devil twirled about the clearing with little Myrtle in his arms. The faerie wine, which I drank far more quickly than was advisable, warmed my body and lifted my spirits. Under the blanket of moonlight and music and mulling spices, it was easy to forget everything I’d been through the past weeks. All the fear and apprehension and anger melted away, leaving behind only a gentle buzz of contentment.
“You do not dance, lady?” asked Jon, who had ambled over to sit beside me in the grass.
I laughed and polished off another cup of wine, having now lost count. “Not very well, I’m afraid. I’ve had little cause to practice.”
“Ah, well, persistence is key!” he called over the screech of Aliena’s fiddle. “Speaking of which, your Mister Scarlett isquitepersistent.”
“Yes, I got the message you sent with Prim. Does he seem…alright?”
Jon took a long drink of his own before answering. “Happy as a man can be in that situation, I s’pose.”
“I wish he’d come away with me,” I murmured. “I wish he’d been brave enough.” The wine was loosening my tongue, but I no longer cared. I felt safe with Jon anyway, in spite of him probably being the most dangerous human man I’d ever met.
