Folly doesn’t want to be left.
Chapter 22
Yarrow
Elsewhere grows quicker this time. Grass sprouts from new earth beneath their feet, rolling out like a welcoming carpet. The swirling fog seems less ominous behind the rainbow of wildflowers.
New leather pouches ride Yarrow’s belt, and Folly has a matching set under his starry robe. Powders of binding and invisibility. Yarrow would usually dismiss them as dishonorable in combat, but he’s not concerned with honor today.
He’ll take every advantage he can if they’re using Folly as bait. Unfortunately, he has yet to think of a better plan.
This plan is solid, though. They’ll arrive at Cerulean Glade first and prepare the area with binding powder traps. If Moriath still hasn’t arrived by noon, Folly will scry again for more information—that will be about a day since he last scried. When they’re ready, Folly will wait as bait, and Yarrow will hide invisible nearby.
Moriath will be wary, of course. He’ll know Yarrow is within range of Folly. But a moment of confusion is all Yarrow needs.
First, they have thirteen hours in Elsewhere. Yarrow would like to spend every minute fucking the worry out of Folly’ssystem, except Folly’s been quieter than usual. The sort of quiet that makes Yarrow want to tread carefully.
“This is nice,” Yarrow muses, wandering the growing edges. “Real nice.”
A sapling twists into being across the new meadow. Mismatched leaves sprout from its branches, like Elsewhere can’t decide what it is.
Folly keeps pace, ranging between four feet, two inches and six feet, seven inches away. “Does Elsewhere reply when you talk to it?”
“Sometimes, sort of.” Yarrow crouches to pluck a wildflower. The orange bloom seems to jump eagerly into his hand. The petals feel just as cool and delicate as a natural flower. “People used to travel between realms more. The old stories say Elsewhere was always like this. A beautiful, ever-changing realm, neither here nor there.”
“We have stories, too.” Folly turns as they walk, taking in their surroundings. “‘When Grandmother’s grandmother was a child,’ is how they all begin, no matter what generation’s telling it. Fae used to creep into our world all the time.”
Yarrow stops and lifts his hand. Folly holds still, allowing Yarrow to slide the blossom into his soft curls. “I’d wager the fae weren’t the heroes in your stories.”
Folly’s smile is beautiful but hollow. “They were terrible villains.”
There are reasons Queen Haelwen closed her fist on travel to the human realm. Overall it was a good decision, though now Yarrow wishes the border were open. He doesn’t want to interfere with an entire realm. Just one little human.
“What’s wrong?” Yarrow asks quietly.
Folly shrugs in on himself. He looks away like he doesn’t want to answer. “I don’t want this to end.”
Yarrow’s heart clenches. “Oh.”
“I don’t mean I want a lifemark or something,” Folly says quickly. “I mean, I’d at least want to try this for a year before trapping you with me forever. But tomorrow…”
Yarrow adjusts the flower in Folly’s hair, then caresses his cheek. “Tomorrow is too soon.”
Folly nods against Yarrow’s palm. His lashes lower. “We keep saying we’ll figure it out later, but we’re running out of later.”
Fuck. Folly’s right, of course. Yarrow’s learning that Folly’s usually right. He just wishes he had more time to seduce the little human before having this conversation.
“Would you really want to leave your home?” Yarrow asks.
Folly shrugs. “What home? I haven’t seen my parents in years. All that’s waiting for me is Roland and a never-ending employment contract. I’m not fae, and I’m happy to abandon that obligation.”
“Staying permanently in the fae realm is difficult for humans.” Yarrow drops his hand as Folly pulls away. Fair enough—every touch is distracting. “Something powerful has to bind you here, whether that’s a curse like ours or stealing food from under someone’s roof. Or a trade, leaving something in your home realm to replace you.”
Folly listens intently. “Like Tansy.”
“Tansy can stay because the queen replaced him with her own son.” Yarrow sighs. “Unfortunately, I lack offspring to trade for you.”
He wins a brief smile, before gloom settles in Folly’s eyes again. “None of those sound like good options.”
