Page 43 of Forbidden Obsession
Next, we stop in at Jindal’s cottage, where I receive a warm hug and a swat to my rump for taking so long from Bessa. Then a gruff, “Welcome back, lad,” with a jerky nod from Jindal’s father.
As I’d hoped, Bessa turns to the kitchen to put together a meal for Jin and me to take to the loft, but first, apricot pastries are shoved into my hands to hold me over before supper.
“Oh, Bessa,” I mumble, my mouth stuffed full, “how I’ve missed you.”
“You mean how you’ve missed my baking.” She winks. “Don’t lie.”
“I missed that too, but I missed you more.” I’ve got presents for her in my bags, but I didn’t think to get Jindal’s father anything, so I’ll wait until we’re alone to give them to her. A new apron in her favorite color, bright yellow, and a cooking spice called saffron that I’ve never heard of but smells as good as can be.
Jindal carries the tray of food, and I carry my bags as we make the trek across the field to our own little private space in the barn. The rain has stopped, and it’s dark out but not so dark we can’t see. Sparkling bugs glow in clusters over the windswept grasses. I take a deep breath of country fresh air and smile. Smells like home.
If only I could stay.
My heart is heavy with the news I must share with Jindal. I can only hope he’ll understand. That he’ll choose to come with me. But I know he won’t want to leave Jodpirn. Not while his mother still sleeps. Maybe not ever.
We climb the ladder to our loft and hoist up our items with a pulley system rigged long ago, when we were still boys. The savory scent of Bessa’s meat pies has my mouth watering for a taste. With the meal spread on our little table between us, we sit on worn cushions and tuck in.
I moan. “It’s even better than I remembered.”
A grin lights Jindal’s face. “Bessa must have magic of her own, even though she’s never admitted as much.”
“I won’t argue.” The meat is tender, and the vegetables are perfectly spiced—potato, onion, and peas all stirred in a creamy gravy sauce.
Jindal is itching for me to start talking, but I’m so hungry. He waits about as patiently as Jindal ever does anything, which is to say, not very patiently at all. He’s a twitching bundle of movement across from me, wings fluttering and settling, fluttering and settling, all while he shifts from one hip to the other, barely keeping from demanding the story.
It’s cute and familiar, and he’s trying so hard I take pity on him.
“Shall I talk as I eat?” My pie is halfway gone, and the edge has worn from my hunger.
“Please.” His orange gaze lands on me eagerly. Is he as nervous about this as I am?
I start by relaying our journey. This is the easy part. Descriptions of each town, the magnificent views, the forests, the flowers, the people, the animals, the river, and the ferry. These are all good memories. Folks were kind to us on our travels. Mixlings are generally respected by the fae for our combined heritage, our magic, which is often superior, our contributions to the bloodlines, our physical strength. Humans have none of these advantages bestowed on me by the accident of birth.
Jindal listens intently, enraptured as I spin the tale. He can’t imagine a river so big a boat would be needed to cross it, much less a boat big enough to ferry horses, wagons, livestock, and people all at once. Around here, the largest river spans no more than forty paces across and rises no higher than a man’s shoulders, even in the deepest parts. It’s easily swimmable, but there’s no need because we’ve built bridges. The Onyx is so big, though, no bridge could span it.
I tell him of Lemossin, the hustle and bustle of the capital city, the grandeur of Ralossi Palace when viewed by the main streets, the variety of food at the markets. More of the easy memories.
It’s harder to explain how people talk there, how free they are with their hostility toward the humans of Irondale and the revolt. How they’ve come to expect more fighting. How they seem to welcome it as an infestation of bugs to be squashed.
Jindal’s eyes grow wide and darken. “Are they all like that? So prejudiced?”
“I hope not, but certainly the ones speaking the loudest are all like that. Which worries me. And the humans who work in Lemossin slink around quickly, ducking in shadows like they don’t want to be seen.”
“Like they’re afraid.”
“Yes. And for good reason. There are so many of them. If they did rebel, I don’t think they’d be conquered as easily as the fae seem to think, but they aren’t organized. As is, they have no power.”
“I’m so glad we live here instead. Where we’re safe. Where Bessa and your mother are safe.”
For now. But I can’t bring myself to say the words. I don’t want to frighten Jindal any more than is strictly necessary. “There’s more.”
“Go on.” Jindal has stopped eating and pushes his plate toward me.
I shove my empty plate aside, happy to finish his as well. I go on eating as I talk, which somehow makes the next part easier to get out, telling him of my and Falen’s plan inside the palace and how I used my magic to sneak away.
Concern is written all over Jindal’s face. “But you hate using mind magic.”
He’s not wrong. “I could think of no other way. But I did get lucky.” I explain how I caught the attention of Princess Suvi, and of our secret meetings.
