Page 93 of Crown of the Fae King

I loved her immediately.

Of all the witches I’d met to that point, this woman was the first who really embodied my clichéd expectations. She wore lots of drapey, gauzy layers of skirts and scarves, a knee-length vest of fuzzy fuchsia, and a royal blue strip of cloth to keep her curly black hair out of her face. A pair of bifocals stuck on top of her head.

She was shorter than I was, but as soon as she opened her door and saw me, she reached out, pulled me into a powerful hug, and squealed. “We meet at last!”

“Jez,” Wickham said behind me. “Jez!”

She released me and scowled at him. “What?”

“This is not my wife.”

“Oh?” She looked sideways at me. “Well, welcome anyway. Ye give a solid hug.”

“Thank you,” I laughed. “So do you.”

She gave me a genuine smile then. “I like you.”

“I think I like you too.”

“Give me your hand,” she said, though she’d already taken hold of it. Then she rubbed her thumb and knuckle over my palm like she was scrubbing out a spot. She bobbed her brow and the bifocals fell perfectly into place on the end of her nose without her touching them. “Oy, now. Oy…” She threw my hand back at me, then stepped closer, to look into my eyes. “What’s this?”

Wickham grabbed her shoulder and pulled her away. “Please dinnae spook my friend. We haven’t come for yer prognostications.”

She peered into his eyes then. “Are ye verra sure about that?”

“Aye. I am. And if ye’ve taken anything from the lass, give it back.”

She dropped the dramatic flare and stuck her tongue out at him. Then she dug into her skirt and lifted her finger toward me and turned her head away. My ring with the open heart sat at the end. I hadn’t felt a thing.

My mouth fell open. “Oh, you are good!”

She beamed. “Thank you. Hard to get much practice with half the town gone and the other half hidin’.” She linked her arm in mine and led me into her house. One wall was completely covered in purple and blue tartan, not so different from the pattern Urban wore. Her couch was cherry red, her carpet green. Through a doorway, I saw her fridge was bubblegum pink.

“Don’t ye love it?”

The voice hadn’t been hers.

She laughed and sat in an orange chair, leaving the couch to Wickham and me.

“Don’t ye love it?” Something stirred in her hair, and I jumped a little. It was a small white bird with yellow on its face, peeking out of the black curls. It turned its head to get a good look at me. “Don’t ye love it?”

“I do. I love a pretty bird with a Scottish accent.”

“Dinnae mind Fingal,” she said, “unless ye value yer earrings.” She offered us tea, but Wickham declined. “Then tell me why ye’ve come. Obviously, ye’re only here to visit, else ye would have brought that wife.”

“Leave off, Jez. We’ll not be movin’ in. Ever.”

She clicked her tongue. “Pity.” Then her eyes widened. “At the house, the Crum sisters would like an audience.”

“Nay.”

“They’ve got a proposition. Seem to think they have somethin’ ye’ll want.”

“I am quite familiar with their routine. They never have anythin’ I want.”

“Still…”

“Jez. Please. Now that the old man is gone, I need to find others…who have been with us a long time, who will remember things about theThirds, the powerful ones.”

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