“Oh…” I sensed a profound sadness beneath her words, something I imagined had little to do with her lack of romantic companionship, and a great deal to do with Titania’s cold rejection of her humanness.
“Robin is certainly built that way though,” she continued, stirring her own tea and looking up at me expectantly. “For a long time, we just knew you as his ‘Abbey girl’, andgods above, he never stopped talking about you. Ever since that night you made your bargain with him.”
I cringed. “Really?”
“Of course, we had no idea who you really were. We thought you were just some poor human girl he’d happened to fixate on. Jon and Larch teased him about it mercilessly, of course, because he always maintained that someday he’d bring you here and…get you to fall in love with him.” She watched me closely as my jaw dropped open.
“The sheer audacity,” I laughed, but then I put a hand over my eyes and admitted, “I think…I might have ruined his plan though.” Quickly and quietly, I explained to Aliena what had happened the night before, and she listened with one eyebrow raised. By the time I finished, she was clearly battling a smile.
“Well,” she said coolly, “I wouldn’t worry too much. He’ll never stay angry with you.”
“I think he just might,” I muttered.
Aliena gave me a strange look, then reached across the table and put a hand over mine. “The thing you have to remember about Robin…Devil…is that he’s not…a person. I know that sounds awful, but he was ‘born’ already a child, more or less. Except, he was never given the courtesy of a childhood, or a real family, or anyone to teach him how tobe. Oberon certainly never tried, just set him loose in the forest to run with the wolves and called him up when he was needed. All those lessons people learn from growing up, he never had them, and so there are still a lot of things he doesn’t understand.”
“Oh, you don’t say?” I snorted.
“All I mean is that he truly does care for you, in his own way, which can be very intense. And, of course, it isn’t your responsibility to civilize him, but if he makes you uncomfortable, youcantell him. I know he would do anything to make you happy.”
“Thank you.”
“And if he misbehaves at all,” Aliena said with a grin, “Jon and I will beat him within an inch of his life.”
I just returned the grin and we continued to gossip about the Hollow’s other residents for nearly an hour over our tea. When I finally took my leave of the cottage, Aliena stepped outside with me and waved her hand at the trees.
“You have the entire Arden at your feet now, princess,” she said. “Where will you start?”
I knelt and pressed my hands down, digging my fingertips past the grass and into the cool, soft dirt. The river of magyk wound beneath me, steady and slow, but overwhelming in its power. It brought to mind a song that Tuck had taught me when I was a child—a tune he and his fellow friars often sang to keep up their spirits on long journeys, and to remind them of their vows. I could hardly remember the notes, but spoke the lyrics like a poem anyway, hoping the Arden heard me.
“Where am I needed?Who needs my aid?Shall I go to the city, the field, or the glade?I’ll go where they call, I’ll do what I’m able—shoes for their feet or food on their table. I’ll go where I’m needed, find those who need aid, be they a boatman, a soldier, or maid.”
The squeezing sensation was brief and suddenly, I was no longer in the Hollow. Pinpricks of apprehension crawled across my skin as I wondered exactly what I’d done and where the forest had taken me.
“Am I needed here?” I whispered, putting my hand on the trunk of a beech tree. “What’s the matter?” Then, I heard a soft noise, like an owl, and followed it until I saw someone curled up in the roots of a tree. It was a tiny fay child with fluffy, white dandelion seeds for hair, and pale, yellow-ish skin. One of their small,white butterfly wings was laid out beside them at an odd angle, a long tear in the delicate membrane.
“Hello,” I said softly. The child looked up and wiped tears from their enormous eyes, which had no pupil or iris to speak of, just a sea of swirling green and white, like a glass marble.
“Who are you?” they whispered.
“My name is Marina,” I said, trying a gentle smile, “and I think I can help you. I have a very special magyk gift.”
They buried their face in their hands. “Ma will be terribly angry with me! She told me to put my wings away before climbing trees. My sisters went to fetch her and told me to stay here.”
“What if,” I said, kneeling beside them and running my fingers over the gossamer wing, “I could make it good as new before they get back?”
The child’s eyes widened even more and they shifted, lifting their wing so I could place my hands on either side. Slowly, carefully, I spooled out my healing gift, praying it would be effective on a faerie body. The child sniffled and whimpered as I worked, so I tried to distract them.
“How many sisters do you have?”
“Oh…” They held up a hand, which had only three spindly fingers plus a thumb, then began to count slowly. “I always forget. Ma says we have too many sprouts in our family.”
I laughed. “How many is too many?”
“Three dozen,” they finally answered once they had finished calculating, “but only fourteen are sisters…I think.”
I finished repairing the wing and tested it with a gentle prod. “Goodness, that is a lot of…sprouts. Can you get home on your own?”
“I can now!” the child cried, leaping up and taking to the air. “Thank you, Miss Marina!” They fluttered away between the trees and I sat for a moment, still smiling, then put my hands into the grass again.
