Chapter 10

CHAPTER TEN

WREN

A n unfamiliar rustling wakes me just after dawn. The first rosy fingers of light drift across the pale butterscotch-yellow quilt, and I jerk upright, tucking it around me.

Fenn's curled up in a red fluffy donut beside my feet, one eye sleepily peeking out from behind his bristle brush tail.

My heart leaps into my throat, and my hands fist the soft linen.

The rustling noise stops, and Fenn sits up, his amber eyes finding mine.

"Go," I hiss at him.

He jumps off the bed on velvet paws, not one chittering yap or yowl to be heard.

His silence doesn't make me feel better.

A split second later, a crash sounds from the main part of my apartment and I bolt out of bed, unwilling to let Fenn take the brunt of whatever assault is happening.

"That's my fox," I yelp, brandishing the first thing I land on, which happens to be my silver and glass lantern.

There's no one there.

The main rooms are empty, the little postage stamp of a kitchen neat and sparkling, the teacup I left out the night before put away.

My jaw drops.

There's not a speck of dust to be found, anywhere, at all.

"My shoes," I say on a gasp, the silver lantern dropping from my hand to the thick rug on the floor with a thud.

My slippers, which I admit have been in desperate need of replacing, are no longer in a state of depressing disrepair.

The cracked, sad leather shines bright from a fresh oiling, and the plain beige they were last night has been replaced by a deep emerald green.

I frown at them in confusion.

Fenn yips, pointing his nose at the corner nearest the door to the stairs.

A high-pitched chittering sounds from the area he's fixated on, and my brain finally clicks the pieces into place.

"A brownie?" I whisper, shocked into speaking out loud. "I thought they were extinct."

The chittering grows more agitated, and I snap my mouth shut and spring into action, scrambling over to the kitchen.

"Fenn, leave the poor thing alone." Fenn growl-yips at me, but listens, settling for following me around. It takes me a moment to find my favorite floral bone china teacup, the gilded lip worn but still pretty and serviceable.

The milk I brought home from the grocer a few days ago still smells fresh enough in the cold box where I keep it and a few other foodstuffs, enchanted to keep everything at a safe temperature by the same ice pixies who make the snow in the town square.

I fill the milk up to the top of the fragile teacup, uncork the tall copper canister half-full of sugar cubes and fish one out for good measure, plunking it into the milk with a shrug.

"I'm not entirely sure what you like, friend, but I can't thank you enough for your help." The words are hushed and measured, and I'm doing my very best not to completely freak out.

A brownie! In my house.

I clear my throat, not sure if it's rude to look at the tiny creature, or if I'm risking scaring it away for good by trying to sneak a peek, and set the delicate antique cup on the table.

"I can leave it for you at night, if you prefer. I appreciate your help around here, and I'm glad to make your acquaintance." It sounds oddly formal, a total contrast to my bare feet, cold on the colorful rug, and my too-short, thin white shift.

And the fact I'm pretty sure my hair still looks like shit.

"Okay, uh, I'm going to go get ready for the day."

Fenn sniffs, his whiskers twitching, giving me a look that tells me plain as day just how little he thinks of me talking to any magical creature other than him.

"I left you a boar bristle brush and a comb on your vanity," a tiny voice like the tinkling of bells says in my ear. "The fae have taken an interest in you, witchling. It wouldn't do to look less than presentable."

"Oh." I grasp around for how to answer that. The fae? The fae? Does the brownie mean Caelan?

I frown, not sure if I like the idea of him sending this creature over here, or if I'm offended by the fact he spent a few hours in my company last night and decided I needed magical intervention.

It hurts my feelings that he might have been right about that.

"That was kind of you," I say awkwardly. "Let me know if you prefer something else to eat."

I smooth my hands down the creased fabric of my shift, feeling out of my depth.

"The Seelie Queen told me of a baker witch blessed with the perfect scone recipe," the brownie says. Something tickles against my ear, and I stand very still.

The Seelie Queen. So not Caelan, then. A completely, entirely different fae is interested in me.

I'm even less sure what to do with that information.

Fenn's nose twitches even faster.

Piper's the only baker witch in town, and I'm glad I can at least remember that fact after the brownie casually name dropped the Seelie Queen like it's nothing.

"Would you like me to bring you scones tonight? From next door?" I venture.

The tinkling sound grows brighter, faster, and a strangely heavy pressure settles on my shoulder.

Fenn makes a sound low in his throat, and I very, very slowly look at the creature now perched on my person.

"I would like the blueberry scones with the spiced walnuts and the cheeriness spell," the brownie says, the words so high and fast I have to strain to make them out.

It's furry—no, fuzzy, really, a light, silken fuzz coating every inch of the little faerie's body. Golden wings twinkle in the early light, inordinately long fingers tipped in claws at its sides. Vertically elongated pupils, like a cat, blink at me beneath a lush fringe of eyelashes.

"Cheeriness spell," I repeat, slightly dizzy.

"That would be nice," the brownie says, dipping her head in agreement. "Your offer is accepted."

The tiny thing levitates from my shoulder, appearing on the table in the blink of an eye and lapping at the cup of milk and sugar like a cat. I study it for a moment, boggled and out of sorts, noting the finely furred ears on the top of its head.

Strange.

"I'll just… leave you to it," I say.

Slowly, because I don't want to upset the thing, I retreat to my bedroom and shut the door behind me, nearly closing Fenn out.

"A brownie?" I murmur, and Fenn's huge ears perk up.

A brownie. Who wants blueberry scones with spiced walnuts and a cheeriness spell, who left me brushes and cleaned my house and mended my shoes. More than mended my shoes, really.

Those emerald slippers are so much better than new.

The brownie must have tended to my room last night too, because now that I'm not sitting stock still in bed, terrified, it's easy to see that everything's been given a shine, dusted to perfection, and the small worn-out spots in my bedding have been carefully patched.

"Wow," I manage.

The boar bristle brush and comb the brownie told me about do, in fact, sit on the vanity, and they're much, much nicer than any set I've ever owned.

The Seelie Queen sent the brownie?

My nose crinkles as I mull it over, but my brain doesn't present any answer or explanation or, sadly, any outlandish theories, either.

It's a good sign, though… isn't it?

Anxiety tightens my chest, and I rub the heel of my hand over it. Maybe I'll get myself a blueberry scone with spiced walnuts and a cheeriness charm too.

My gaze lands on the brush set again.

Or maybe all I need is to take care of myself—brush my hair and clean myself up and put my best foot forward, and be so damned good that the guild can't ignore me.

I nod and sit at the tiny vanity and begin the tedious work of unsnarling my hair before I make good on my promise to myself.

The chill from the evening hasn't quite dissipated as I finally open the door to my shop, double-checking to ensure it locks behind me. Fenn's tucked by the hearth again, napping away the morning as he always does, but for once, I'm not napping with him.

Mist clings to the cobblestone streets, the few early risers up and about at this hour moving quickly to their destinations.

My heart's a hummingbird in my chest, buzzing with something between excitement and anxiety.

At least I have the comfort of knowing I've done my best to make myself presentable.

I close my eyes, inhaling deeply through my nostrils to calm myself and take the first steps from my doorway.

The leather satchel digs into my shoulder and I readjust it as I walk, passing by the already busy Pixie's Perch. If I go there first, I might lose my nerve, and I'm still determined to do this… for now, at least.

I'll save the familiar pastels and Piper's friendship as a reward for pushing myself from my comfort zone. And I'll get two blueberry cheeriness scones to go.

A golden glint catches my eye as I walk past the darkened window of another store, and it takes me a half-second to realize it's my reflection—my hair now neatly managed into cascading waves down one shoulder.

I stand a little straighter, pleased with the results of my work, and carry on down the street towards my first destination.

A little kernel of irritation tries to sprout as I stand outside the huge corner storefront because I've managed to avoid going here the entirety of the few months I've lived in Wild Oak Woods, telling myself I needed to at least achieve something before I rewarded myself with a visit to what's sure to be one of my favorite places in the whole village.

The bookstore.

Not just any bookstore, either, but a massive, luxurious space. Dwarven-made ladders

Warm light glows from the windows, proving the witch owner I've met in passing is already beginning her day.

"You can do this," I mutter to myself, and with that, I clutch the door handle and pull it open.

Much too hard because it swings open easily, and I stumble for a second, completely off-balance.

"Oh," the witch who owns the store startles, peering at me from behind thick round spectacles, her hair neatly braided in a crown around her head. "Good morning, are you alright?"

"Sorry, it wasn't as heavy as I expected." A small laugh bubbles out of me, and the witch smiles.

"Wren, right? From down the street? The jeweler?" She squints at me, stepping off the ladder.

"That's right, hi, and you're Ruby? Sorry I haven't stopped by before now, I should have. This place is amazing."

It's completely true.

A fire crackles somewhere deep in the shop, and I peer around for a second, enchanted by the entire store. The distinctive smell of paper and ink, along with something floral and woodsy, permeates the air. A cat naps on one of the many little tables, perfect for curling up with a book or for quiet conversation with a friend.

"You've been settling in, no need to apologize. Is there something you're looking for today?"

"You, actually," I blurt out, then cringe slightly as she blinks owlishly at me. "What I mean to say is, I am, ah, attempting to do a better job at getting out of my store and getting around town." I gesture vaguely at the gorgeously styled shelves, the gilded leather-bound books and the glass stands housing parchment paper and ink and all manner of stationery.

"And I was first on your list?" She beams at me. "I'm honored. And I'm sorry to say I understand exactly what you mean. It's hard to get away from work when you live with it, isn't it?"

"Do something you love and you'll never work a day in your life, you'll work every day all day and never be satisfied with how much you've done." I cock my head, pleased when she laughs again. "I don't think that's how the saying goes?—"

"But it should," Ruby exclaims, clapping her hands together. "Here, what do you like to read? I can put together a list for you, that's the least I can do."

I hadn't thought that far ahead, and suddenly, I can't think of one damned thing I've read for fun. Ever. I'm not sure I even know how to read now.

"Do you have any books on local lore, or, uh, maybe on local geology?"

"Sure, of course—we actually had a rush for a certain gemstone years and years ago…" She trails off, disappearing behind another shelf.

I pick my way around it carefully, not wanting to upset anything in the store, still weighed down with my bag.

"I also like romances," I offer, finally remembering a fact about myself.

"Oh, me too. We have a romance book club that meets monthly, every third Wednesday, if you want to come. I've been trying to get Piper to come for ages but she always says she has to wake up early and bake."

Ruby reappears, holding a couple of books in her arms. "Here. The next books on our club list aaaaand a short history of local caves. I think it covers Wild Oaks geology, but if it's not what you had in mind, come back and we'll find another option."

"I have something for you too," I say, feeling slightly shy and overwhelmed, but determined to finish what I came here for.

"You do?" Ruby pats her braids, setting the books on what must be her check-out counter. "You didn't have to do that."

"Well, I didn't, of course not, but I'm not just doing it out of pure selflessness." I cringe. That sounds so much worse than I meant.

"What I mean is, I don't get a lot of walk-in clientele at my store, so I thought I would take some of my creations and loan them out. You don't have to take it, I don't have any expectation of payment, just that you'd tell anyone who asks where you got it."

I'm too afraid to look back at her, instead rummaging around in my leather satchel for the earrings I picked out for her. "These are opal and rose gold studs, enchanted to assist with focus. They need to recharge monthly in the full moon, but should help when you need to concentrate." The words tumble out in a river over each other, and when I finally locate the earrings, I triumphantly put the little suede box on her counter.

Ruby's staring at me, open-mouthed. "This is quite a gift."

I shrug. "They were just sitting in my shop. I'd rather they be put to use. How much do I owe you for the books?"

"Stop it. You're not paying me for the damned books." She laughs, opening up the suede box, then sighing as she runs her fingertips over them. "Beautiful. And there's no catch?"

"No, not at all." My mouth twists to the side. "Is this too strange? Me bringing these? You don't have to take them—" I reach out for the box.

She swats at my hand. "Absolutely not. You've loaned them to me, and now I've seen them and I'm attached. And if you don't show up for book club, I'm going to be mad. Bring Piper and tell her to bring petit fours."

"It's a deal," I tell her.

The opals glint in the morning light, and she clucks her tongue in appreciation before fastening them to her ears.

"Well, consider me your new friend," Ruby declares. "Book club, third Wednesday, and I'll drag you from your store if you don't show up." She looks me up and down. "Are you going to the other shops with loans like this?"

"That was my plan." I shrug a shoulder, trying to squash the lingering self-doubt.

"You're not worried about being taken advantage of? Or someone selling them out from under you?"

"Of course I am." I bite my lip. "But I don't know how else to drum up business."

"Your coven isn't sending you clients?" There's a strange undercurrent to the question, and I glance sidelong at her.

"Is your coven? Sending you clients?"

"I'm not in one." Ruby sighs, and her cat jumps on the desk. It's a long-haired calico, with a fluffy tail even Fenn might envy. "Most of us aren't, I think. Covenless witches and creatures, that's Wild Oak Woods."

"Hmm." I'm not quite ready to dive into another coven, and I'm definitely not ready to head up all the work that comes with starting one… but it's odd. It's odd that the witches here are all without a coven.

"Have you ever seen a brownie?" I ask, the question tumbling out before I've thought better of it.

Her brow furrows, and her eyes go distant. "No, I don't think so. They're going extinct, like all the Seelie fae, aren't they?"

"I thought so too."

Ruby purses her mouth, wrapping up the books she's selected in a thick, brown waxy paper. Red and white twine follows, and she slips a couple pretty bookmarks into the package with quick, efficient movements.

"You've seen a brownie, then." It's not a question.

"You don't seem surprised."

She presses her palms against the counter, the familiar flutter of a witch's power emanating from her.

"Things are… different lately, right? Lots of changes. The Unseelie fae in town, a brownie now, and a village full of witches without coven."

We share a look, but neither of us say anything else for a long moment.

A log pops in the fire, and she pushes the wrapped books towards me.

"Maybe we should have a different kind of book club soon. Just in case."

"A different kind of book club," I echo. "What do you have in mind?"

She shakes her head. "I don't know yet, but when I do, I'll be sure you're with us."

I tuck the waxy package into my satchel, pulling the little jewelry boxes I've made on top. "Thank you," I say, smiling at her. "I'm glad I finally came in."

"Me too. Don't be a stranger, or I'll be forced to come visit you when you're rolling out of bed or all set to read a book with a cup of tea."

I snort. "I love a little light threatening in the morning." I give a slight wave, headed for the door and to my next stop.

"Go under her light," Ruby calls out as I leave, the common witch phrase settling something deep and restless in my soul.

I might still be new in Wild Oak Woods, but I've never been alone.