Page 17 of Crown of Wings and Whispers

I dreamed of little flowers and bugs drawn on pages, with eyes that opened and blinked. “They don’t like to be touched,” Daphne said, over and over again. The dream went on forever, niggling at me, prodding my memory. Then finally, I bolted upright and dragged myself out of those intoxicating sheets.

The house was quiet.Apparently, even bugs had to sleep.

Despite Cré’s warning, I left the room and picked my way down along the first waterfall. I figured, if there really was a danger outside my room, Griffon would have warned me about it.

I opened Daphne’s bedroom door and stepped inside. No hissing, thankfully. With what little light came from the universe swirling around her bed, I found the dresser with no problem and pulled out the top drawer. My subconscious had noticed something I’d skimmed over earlier when I’d been looking for a handkerchief. At least, I dreamed it had.

I pushed aside the underwear and small bits and bobs, but didn’t find what I was hoping for. The drawer groaned when I pulled it out further to reach all the way to the back.

My hand found something large and hard, and I pulled it out and lifted it up for a better look. The small clear box was the right size. The lock was right. The box was empty.

If I were Daphne Carew and my job was to watch over the Fae books, and I felt they were in danger, I might have taken my favorites home with me, to keep them safe in a house with protections around it. And if I had favorites…they would have been the little bookmarks.

It seemed perfectly reasonable to take those bookmarks out of their protective box…if they weren’t bookmarks at all. If they were actually little fairies who didn’t want to be locked up anymore.

“Ye didnae see any danger in leaving yer room?”

I recognized the voice and a cold chill shimmied up my spine. Twenty-four hours ago, this man was my enemy who wanted to kill me with his own hands.

“Am I in danger?”

Archer leaned in the doorway. His eyes were hidden in shadow, but his smirk was clear enough. “Too fearless for yer own good.” He pointed to the box with his chin. “Mean something to ye, does it?”

“It does.”

“Then keep it.”

I shook my head and returned the box to the drawer. “I was just trying to jog my memory, that’s all.” I closed the drawer and faced him again. “Sorry if I woke you.”

He held his hand out to me, wiggled his fingers. “Come on. I’ll take you back before some fairy decides to tease you.”

“They already have.”

He was instantly on guard. “What happened?”

“Nothing bad. When I came back from the bathroom, there were four little women in my room. They said they came to collect my dirty clothes. Any chance you know who I’m talking about?”

He relaxed, then nodded. “Call themselvesThe Queevna.Just before she disappeared, Daphne sort of gifted them to my mother, to help out around the house. But they only help when they feel like it, and they like to speak in riddles. Most of the time, they dinnae come when she calls.” He gestured to the growth that made up the walls. “Easy place to hide, ye ken?”

He led me back to the steps. Something small squeaked and rushed into the plants on the far side of the waterfall. All I saw was the trail of jostled leaves.

“Ye see? They’re everywhere. Nothing more troublesome than a bored fairy.” When we reached my room, he stood aside and let me go in alone. “Dinnae fash. Nothing would dare come in this room. Sleep well.” He reached for the door.

“Archer?”

“Aye?”

“Thank you.”

“For?”

“For forgiving me.”

He let out a breath and nodded. “Back atcha.” Then he closed the door.

It took a long time to fall asleep again. My mind kept generating questions I wanted to ask the pages—The Queevna. If they knew where answers could be found in the Fae books, then it should be a lot easier to question them now that they could speak! But how could I ask them about the DeNoy without actually saying the word?

I finally decided I should speak to Griffon before asking anything, and that led to other thoughts that might have kept me awake for another hour or two if I hadn’t been so sleep-deprived. The dreams that followed left me restless and impatient in the morning. I wanted answers, I wanted coffee, and I wanted Griffon, not necessarily in that order.

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