Page 14 of Till Kingdom Come

A Fairy’s ears were definitely pointed on the tips. I’d heard it said by mortals that we were so beautiful that we actually glowed as well, though I think it’s fair to say that was an exaggeration. A mortal would suspect us as Fae creatures right away, though, if we didn’t disguise ourselves and most would be too afraid of us to let us approach them. It made it difficult for us to travel in daylight or to even get a meal or a drink at a village tavern unless we traveled in disguise. My father and I had used a glamour to help in our deception. It was better to keep our distance anyway. My father’s appetites could be unpredictable at best.

We didn’t know the extent of Honeywood’s involvement in all of this, but we believed him to be an ignorant pawn, unaware of the treasure he had housed for the past nineteen years or so. As I said, the boy was glamoured to look only human. Possibly his former wife had been the same, or she had actually been one of us. That still remained to be seen.

On the day I’d first met Killian, I was both hungry and thirsty and not in the best of moods, having had to sleep rough in a makeshift camp on the road the night before. The inns had been full because of an upcoming tournament at Sir John’s estate. So, I had neither the good humor nor the patience for foolish mortals to accost me on the roads.

We had ridden up to cross an insignificant little bridge over an equally insignificant stream and found a group of would-be knights—who were just brigands in my opinion. They were “guarding the bridge” in one of their stupidpas d’armesgames, or so they said. The phrase meant “a passage of arms,” and it referred to a group of knights challenging other knights to fight at a specific location, such as a bridge or city gate before they let them pass.The challenged knight would have to fight or be disgraced. We weren’t knights in any way, shape or form. They had to know this. And they were all squires playing make-believe. They wanted to refuse to let us pass to satisfy this ridiculous game of theirs and extort money from us.

The one who seemed to be in charge—a barrel chested young mortal with a shock of red hair and a fat, sweating face—challenged us as we rode up to the bridge. The other three or four horsemen who were ranged behind him, looked on with avid interest. One or two of them had the grace to look embarrassed. As well they should.

“Oy, there!” the sweaty lout called out to us. “Anyone who wishes to pass over this bridge must first pay a toll—or he must fight! If he refuses to fight, he must be disgraced. Which do you choose?”

I pulled my horse’s reins to go around my father’s so I could charge this upstart mortal fool and kill him, but my father laid a hand on the reins of my horse to stop me. “No, not yet. You’ll attract too much attention if you kill him. Try to reason with them first. It will draw less attention to us, and I’d like to pass unnoticed by the mortals. It causes too many questions and far too much trouble otherwise. Pay the young fool’s silly toll and let’s be about our business.”

I was outraged by the suggestion. “No, Father, let me kill him. It will only take a minute and then we can go. How dare he issue us a challenge to cross a public bridge?”

“It’s been too long since you were around mortals, son. They’re always annoying. He has no idea who we are, because we both glamoured ourselves to be unremarkable. Besides, what purpose would it serve to kill this insignificant young fool? It will only cause me to wait even longer for my supper and my whiskey. Just pay his toll and we’ll be on our way.”

“Well? What do you have to say for yourself?” the idiot called over to us. “Will you pay your toll? I don’t have all day!”

“You don’t have five more minutes if you speak to me like that again,” I drawled, and my father had to put up a hand over his mouth to hide his smile.

“How much is your toll?” my father called to the scoundrel.

“Two pounds.”

“That’s outrageous,” I said, fuming. “I’ll just kill him.”

My father waved his hand to indicate it was an insignificant amount. It was to us, though it wouldn’t be to everyone who passed by here today, and besides, it was the principle of the damn thing. I nudged my horse forward to meet the mortal and pulled out a small purse, angrily took out the coins the mortals called money and threw them down at his horse’s feet. He tried to catch them, but missed, and I could see he was angered. Good—I really hoped he’d try something. I found I was suddenly spoiling for a fight and could barely hold myself back.

“Now your spurs too,” the lout said. “I think I’ll have them as well.”

I laughed out loud. I was going to skewer him like a fat worm on the end of my sword. “Come take them then,” I said, with a cajoling tone and a delighted smile.

We would have undoubtedly soon fought—a remarkably short fight—if not for what happened next. From behind him, an even younger looking man quickly slid down off his horse and came running forward, holding up his hand. He was wearing ill-fitting armor and moved awkwardly as if he were unused to it, and his running wasn’t very fast anyway. He came up beside my horse, took off his helmet and looked up at me—and I was startled by the way he looked.

It wasn’t that he was pretty—he was almost remarkably plain, in fact, and seeing as how I was surrounded by beautiful creatures every day, it should have been off-putting, but it wasn’t. Even as plain as he was, I could tell this boy was something special. His hair was wet with sweat from his helmet, and it clung to his scalp in little brown curls and waves. His face was delicately boned, which he probably hated. He had a stubborn chin and hair that was cut way too short, in my opinion. It should have been a manly face, but his mouth was too soft and passionate for grimness, and those eyes had quite the longest eyelashes I’d ever seen on a boy. It almost made him pretty.

“Sir…please listen to me! I’m so sorry. We don’t mean to cause you any trouble.”

I laughed down into his worried little face. “What a remarkable thing to say. If you didn’t want trouble, then you wouldn’t be out here on the public roads trying to waylay and rob all comers.”

He blushed so hard that his cheeks glowed rosy-pink. Had I called him almost pretty? He wasn’t, but there was definitely something about him. Those pale brown eyes were shooting darts at me and causing a slow fire to build in my loins.

“But this is unnecessary. I-I only want to take your spurs. Then you and your friend can be on your way.”

“Oh, may we? How very good of you.”

“Please, sir. If you’ll just…this can be over if you’ll only cooperate. I-I don’t want this to escalate, do you? May I please just take your spurs so you can be on your way?”

The big lout on the other horse, nudged the boy who was standing between us with his steel-booted foot. “You don’t ask, Killian or say please. You just take them. He owes us a penance, since he refused to fight me. Though he can always change his mind, if he’s not afraid.”

Killian?I looked a bit closer to see if I could see through his disguise. The glamour held strong though, and all I saw was the plain, mortal boy. This had been done with powerful magic indeed.

“Did you hear that, Father?” I called to him. “Killianhere wants to take my spurs.”

My father’s eyes narrowed. As for me. I was beginning to enjoy myself. I grinned at the lout, but the boy shot him a quelling look and then turned away again, ignoring him. He looked back up at me.

“Sir. Please. I’m really sorry, but I’m trying to prevent you and your friend from getting hurt. I don’t want that to happen. Forgive me please, but you’re not a knight, are you sir?”

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