Page 64 of Prince of the Northwest Forest
The fox goes to curl up by the fireplace, while the elk stands at the door. The nymph takes our sodden outer garments and hangs them up to dry.
There is a dining table, and Yinok invites us to sit. Bread so fresh it is steaming in the relatively cooler air is sitting in the middle of a table on a wooden board, with a clay pot of what’s labeled as honey next to it.
A pottery jug that may hold milk sits by a dish with a pat of butter in the shape of a leaf. At least, it’s golden, and I assume it’sbutter. A fruit salad of berries and apple chunks fills a bowl next to a wedge of cheese and a leafy green salad.
“Will this do?” Yinok asks.
Kalle looks at me. “This looks great.” My stomach rumbles as if on cue, and we laugh. Even Kalle smiles.
While the nymph is smaller than us, for some reason we all fit on the chairs at the wooden table. I wonder how much of this is magic. Forest magic?
But the food smells real, and it seems fresh. I wonder how Yinok knew to prepare it for us.
And then I decide to stop wondering and enjoy it as I fill my plate with salads, bread, and cheese. I help myself to some of everything, even the milk, even though I haven’t drunk a glass of cold milk since I was a little kid.
Everything is wonderful. The only way that it could be improved would be with a cup of coffee. Even Hazel and Martin are curled up in a corner eating—a bowl of berries and fruit for Hazel, and fresh leaves for Martin.
The food is out of a storybook. I halfway expect songbirds to come in and start doing the dishes. “You just paid your dinner debt,” I tell Kalle.
His brows knit together, and he tilts his head.
“When you came over for dinner, you said?—”
His face relaxes. “All right. Although I didn’t cook anything.”
“This still counts,” I say.
Kalle eats heartily and in a way that makes it seem like this is how he’s used to eating: in a tree with a wood nymph. Is this how he takes his meals when he isn’t at court? It’s certainly better than fast food—although this was about as fast as it gets.
“Everything tastes so wonderful,” I say to Yinok.
“It is the way of the forest folk,” Yinok says modestly. “We are always ready to care for travelers in the woods, and we often break bread with each other.”
“I like that custom.” I slather my bread with a thick slab of butter and then drizzle honey on it. I think there are oats baked into the bread, which is almost like an Irish soda bread. It’s utterly delicious. I want the recipe.
No. I want to eat like this every day of my life.
But a special meal only happens once. It’s like watching a play—even if it’s presented every night, it’s never going to be the same as the first time.
We finish eating, Yinok serves us all hot tea, and Kalle sits back. “So, Yinok, tell me what you know of the kidnapping. You mentioned you had heard something from your cousin?”
“Huron said that he saw a group including the princess traveling in the Fae Realm. But I don’t want to send you the wrong way. That is what I have heard, but not what I have seen.”
“I appreciate the clarification. We will take any leads we can get. We had suspected that they were going there.”
“I wish I could help more,” Yinok says.
“I wish I weren’t cursed,” Kalle mutters.
At the questioning look on Yinok’s face, he explains about the curse.
Yinok inhales sharply and puts a hand to their chest. “Oh no!”
Kalle nods grimly. “’Tis true.”
“You must get that reversed.” Yinok looks thoughtful, a frown on their brow and green hair falling in their eyes. “I wonder whether the sorcerer is still in the Fae Realm. That would make sense, but what if they are hiding elsewhere?”
“We will go wherever you need to,” I assure Kalle. “I don’t mean to butt in, but as you said, Yinok, Kalle must get the spell reversed somehow.”
