Page 54 of A Fae in Finance
“Well,” I said, “they were fantastic company.”
This didn’t mollify him. “And yet you fell into danger the moment I left,” he said, sounding as melancholy as an indescribable vine monster can.
He paused for effect. “There is even a betting pool.”
“A what?”
“A bet, for the remaining days of your life.”
I filed that horrifying thought away for later. I immediately unfiled it and examined it again because it was highly unpleasant but also a little bit interesting. Who was participating? Would people try to protect me so that I’d live until their chosen day? Then I shook my head, like that would make it go away.
“What do faeries even bet? It seems like everything is socialized,” I said, because the financial system and associated social safety nets of Faerie were apparently things Adult Me cared about more than my safety.
“Favors,” the vines intoned darkly.
“Okay, well, I appreciate the warning, Sahir. You’ve done me a service in letting me know.”
The solidity crept up his arm, the vines wrapped around my hand taking on the shape of human fingers.
“What else do we need to talk about?” I asked, forcing my eyes away from the transmutation.
“We must manage our bond. I did not know my oath would have these consequences.” One of the vines near his shoulder started to writhe, and I put a hand on it, trying to channel soothing thoughts.
“Haven’t you made an oath like this before?” I asked.
“You can only make that oath once,” Lene chirped. I nearly jumped; I’d almost forgotten the two of them on the bed. “And most of us never make it.”
Doctor Kitten jumped off the bed, apparently interested in the swirling shadows on the ground. He swatted at the nearest one, and vines twisted into existence there, too.
What I wanted to say wasWhy in the sweet barbecued hell did you do this, then?
But the guy was literally made out of vines, and I couldn’t make myself reprimand him further.
Instead, I looked at the place I imagined Sahir’s face to be. “Thank you for honoring me with your oath, Sahir. I would repay you in kind, if I could.”
At that moment, to some extent, I meant it.
He seemed to realize that as well. The rest of his torso coalesced, and he sat on the floor, still twisted and knotty, but human-shaped. I looked into his eyes, deep-set under bark brows. Doctor Kitten climbed into his lap.
“I must apologize, Miriam. It has been a stressful few days.”
“Is this, uh, your normal form?” I asked. I glanced over at Gaheris and Lene. I’d thoughttheylooked inhuman.
He sighed, which meant he’d recovered his composure enough to engage in his favorite hobby. “Faeries have preferred forms, Miriam, but our appearance is tied, to some extent, to our mental state.”
“Cool,” I said, and lay down flat on the floor, our hands still entwined. “I think I’m done for the day.”
“We have resolved nothing,” he said. His skin looked rough and cracked but was starting to knit into something more fleshlike.
“I know,” I groaned. It felt so good to lie down. We disentangled our hands.
Sahir looped his arms around his knees and looked down at me. His nearer elbow had a little pink flower sticking out of it. “You said you were poisoned last night? Were you ill?”
“I had food poisoning, I think,” I said. “But it wasn’t Milo,” I added, when he opened his mouth. “He gave me a sandwich today and I was fine.”
“If I were attempting to poison you, I would not do it every time I saw you,” Gaheris offered. “So we cannot know he did not poison you.”
What were he and Lene still doing here? I raised an eyebrow at Sahir, who shrugged. “Gaheris, Lene, and I have been at the Court for roughly thirty human years together,” he said. “We share much of our time.”
