Page 55 of The Unseelie Court

Nos hesitated. “We don’t have time for?—”

“There is always time for courtesy,” the middle woman—the mother—interrupted. “And for a proper meal.”

“Besides,” the elderly woman—the crone—added with a knowing smile, “we have something you seek.”

That got Ava’s attention. “You do?”

The crone’s eyes twinkled. “The first key, is it not? To unlock the spider’s cage.”

“How did you—” Ava began.

“We know many things,” all three women said together.

She added it to the list of weird things she’d seen that day.

The cottage interior was larger than it appeared from outside.Cool. A cottage-core supernatural TARDIS.A longwooden table dominated the main room, already set with an array of food that made Ava’s stomach rumble embarrassingly loud.

“Please, sit,” the maiden said, gesturing to the table. “You must be famished.”

Ava glanced at Nos and Ibin. “Is it safe to eat the food?”

“In this case, yes.” Ibin was already plating up various vegetables, cheeses, a quiche, and some bread. “These three observe the old laws of hospitality. Food freely given comes without obligation.”

“Unlike some other fae I’ve met.” Ava sighed. At least these three seemed…not too murderous. Which also, in turn, made her nervous. She’d already been bait-and-switched by the fae no less than twice. Braega and Rig. Three, if she counted Nos and Ibin trying to sell her to Rig.

The three women bustled around them, continuing to put out foods of fresh bread, honey, cheese, and fruits that looked almost comically, impossibly perfect. A rich stew was ladled into bowls, steam rising with a scent that made Ava’s mouth water.

Until she remembered the eyes that Braega had served her.

“Eat,” the mother urged, her voice both warm and commanding with that confident tone of all mothers. “Regain your strength.”

Yeah, all right. Ava didn’t need to be told twice. She fell on the food like she hadn’t eaten in days, which, to be fair, felt accurate. Time was so distorted in the Web that she couldn’t remember when she’d last had a proper meal.

As they ate, the three sisters moved around them with practiced efficiency, refilling cups with a sweet golden drink that tasted like sunshine and honey.

“This is amazing.” She smiled at the nearest of the three. She stopped herself short of thanking them.

The crone smiled, settling into a chair across from Ava. “Nothing satisfies like food grown with one’s own hands.”

“You grow all this?” Ava gestured to the feast.

“We plant the seeds,” the maiden started.

“We tend the garden,” the mother added.

“We harvest what we sow,” the crone finished.

Nos shifted uncomfortably. “We seek the key. The Eyes directed us here.”

“Always in such a hurry, you are. Ever since the pup got its teeth into you, you’ve never been the same,” the crone chuckled, wagging a finger at Nos like he was a boy. “Immortality teaches patience, young man. Or itshould.”

Ibin fought back what looked like a laugh. “I fear circumstances grow urgent.”

The mother nodded solemnly. “The Web trembles. We have felt it.”

“This one has changed things.” The maiden was staring at Ava. “This one rips holes in the threads.”

“And you need the first key,” the crone concluded, her gaze also fixed on Ava. “To open or to melt the locks shut, that remains the question.”

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