Page 28 of Lord of the Hollow Court
Bibi giggled.
Still, Katty should say no. A wiser person would value the extra sleep, the rest for her weary bones. But she didn’t fancy walking herself along the parapets of Hollow Hall alone, and Rineke was still soaking in a bath, her reddened feet propped up on the edge. Katty found herself nodding.
Right away, Bibi hooked her arm in Katty’s as if they were old friends, her plush robe meeting Katty’s worn one, the back stitched up on Katty’s since she had no need for wing slits. Bibi, however, had that lovely pair of plum wings that were veined with a darker purple and shimmery all over, reminding Katty of sugary treats.
“Misman is the most wonderful storyteller,” Bibi gushed. “Everyone loves to hear his tales. I heard it was part of his training, when he was young, to learn as many stories of the world as he could, both to preserve them and so he’d grow wiser.”
Katty furrowed her brow. “What kind of training?”
“Why, the Order of the Valkyrie, of course! Didn’t anyone tell you?”
She shook her head. “What’s a Valkyrie?”
“You don’t know? Humans tell of them in—what’s the word? Teutonic myths.”
Katty blinked at her. Her only lessons were from Katrina de Vries’ tutors, and wherever Teuton was, none of them had felt it important enough to mention.
“Our Valkyrie are a bit different,” Rineke explained, pushing open the swinging door to the kitchen and leading Katty into a side room. This, apparently, was where the servants not on endless cleaning duty took their meals. The table was longer than Katty’s entire house. “The Order of the Valkyrie protects humans like you from fae who would abuse them.”
“You mean like making them shovel dung?” Katty scrunched her nose at the memory and swore she caught a whiff.
Bibi shook her head. “A geas is different—a way to balance things, so to speak. Here—let’s sit in the middle. Misman always stands here a little more than the other spots.”
Katty looked around them, then up. Did Mismanstand on the table?
“This is such a treat,” Bibi said as she settled into the chair, her wings flattening against the narrow chair back. She rubbed her hands together. “I think he’s doing this because he recognizes all our hard work.”
“You were telling me about the Valkyrie?” Katty prompted.
“Oh, yes. The human world and High Fae world must be separate—because of the Wild Hunt. But the High Fae can be cruel. Even if they can resist the urge to hunt, there are other ways they can hurt humans.”
“Like what?” Katty asked.
Bibi would not meet her eye. “It’s probably best not to discuss it. The Order of the Valkyrie takes care of things now anyway.”
Katty sighed. There were so many things she had half-learned in the last few days—enough to let her know she understood nothing. She wondered if she’d ever get used to this place, to its casual magic and peculiar rules. Or that folk with such pointed teeth—some with horns and claws—could flock to the table so eagerly for a story.
When the table was full, more fae poured in, lining up behind the chairs. Katty could not leave now if she wanted to. The room had grown stuffy by the time someone thought to crack open a window; the scents of autumn, both of decay and sweet corn, mixed with that of spiced apples from the kitchen. Katty spotted Rineke near the door, fluttering her bright green wings to dry them.
Misman arrived a moment after, back hunched slightly, as though he, too, had been shoveling all day. Yet when he neared the table, he hopped between sitting faeries with ease, striding across it.
“What story shall we have tonight?” he asked, pacing the length of it on long legs.
The answers came as a roar.
“One with a curse!”
“The hidden fountain!”
“The banshee!”
“The Cursed Court of Eire!”
“Tell one about the gods!”
“The Valkyrie!” Katty found herself calling out. Bibi tilted her head toward her and giggled.
“The Valkyrie!” Bibi seconded.
