I cup her face. “Remember being called to Faerie in the first place?”
Juniper gives a start. Her forehead wrinkles with the realization that she hadn’t examined this obstacle from all angles. “I’d forgotten.”
Sylvan had been glamoured while delivering Juniper the summons from me. No one in her world would have seen the deer as anything other than a mortal animal. In which case, sending one of the fauna to transport this message won’t be a problem.
“The logistics seem obvious now,” Juniper sighs. “I should have made that connection.”
“We’ve had more than usual on our minds. But we’ll make sure the letter gets to your father,” I say. “Tímien is the quickest traveler and the hardest to spot. He can carry the message undetected.”
Relief smooths out the trenches across Juniper’s forehead, but her nod is cut off by a gasp. She jerks forward, her hand falling to her stomach. “Oh!”
I encase her in my arms, keeping her balanced. “Another jolt?”
“It was just stronger than expected. It’s never been that intense before.”
“Guess our wee sapling is becoming as restless as you.”
She forces out a chuckle. “Probably.”
I’ll see if Cypress can give her something for that, so she’s comfortable. Which reminds me, we need to tell him soon. That centaur’s an unflappable fucker, but it’ll wound him if he finds out secondhand.
Then something else drops into my head like a rock, knocking the oblivious right out of me. “Oh, shit.” I glance at Juniper. “You think this is the answer?”
Juniper blinks, taking a second to understand. “To the Fable’s hidden message?”
“We talked about the second way being something older than sacrifice, something that’s also the opposite of taking life. We talked about unity ticking both boxes. Combine a human and Fae with the rarity of a kid, and there’s our method of unity.”
“Giving life instead of taking it.”
“Hell, yes.”
“But this land would be restored by now. I’ve been pregnant long enough for that to happen. Instead—” she gestures to the sagging oak branches, dry earth, and waning glow of the overhead candles, “the environment keeps wilting.”
“Not unless our kid actually has to be born,” I point out.
We stare at one another, optimistic. I can taste the flavor of hope so potently, it almost makes me tipsy.
But once I’m nearly there, doubts crawl in. Then Juniper’s face cinches, and she shakes her head.
“Too simple,” we say at the same time.
Not easy to conceive, but too simple when we consider the Fable’s lines.
Therefore, follow your Fables, heed your neighbors, and look closer.
“Heed your neighbors,” Juniper contemplates. “And look closer.”
“Doesn’t fit,” I conclude.
“I just don’t see the connection between heeding our neighbors, looking closer, and a making a child. It doesn’t align in a logical way. No, the second way is something else, some other form of unity.”
Fuck. She’s making the Scholar Face. Sexy as it is, my woman’s also unfortunately correct.
She rubs one of my earrings between her fingers. “We should discuss it with the others, get everyone’s opinion, just in case.”
“Go through the motions,” I agree. “Sounds right.”
I drag my arms from around her and stride to one of the oaks. A message to our clan should go through the roots without a hitch. These trees are still hearty enough for that.