Chapter 5

CHAPTER FIVE

CAELAN

T he urge to act on my needs pricks beneath my skin, annoying and persistent. The humid, late summer weather doesn't do much to alleviate the compunction. In fact, it only succeeds in making me all the more irritable.

The stairs to the old inn on groan on the way up to the patio.

It's a wonder the whole place hasn't rotted through.

Hash Beauchamp, the crotchety old owner of the place, rocks in a chair and watches me under fuzzy white eyebrows.

It's a wonder he's still alive, from the looks of him, matching the inn in both ambiance and cleanliness.

Which is to say, an extreme dearth of both.

I inhale slowly as Hash gives me a long look, pursing his lips in disapproval… and immediately regret it. The foul and unmistakable odor of wet dog—a noxious scent that permeates the entire place— nearly knocks me off my feet.

"You know, for a creature that's hardly fifteen pounds," I pause, lifting an eyebrow, "though he should be closer to ten, it seems, that dog has a way of truly infesting this place with smell."

The dog in question looks through rheumy eyes at me from his perch on Hash's lap. Pale brown splotches add to the filthy effect of the overweight and bug-eyed creature, and drool drips from his poorly aligned jaws.

It's so ugly it is quite nearly cute.

Hash should be offended at having the thing so close to his person. Alas, humans never were clever creatures.

Instead, the old man grins at me, roguish enough that it settles some of my persistent need to cause chaos, and jerks his head at the rocker next to him.

He should be offended, and yet, the more surly I behave towards him, the more he seems to like me.

I sigh in resignation and take the proffered chair.

"Does it not bother you?" I ask, setting my feet on the decaying wood porch and wrinkling my nose as I begin to rock.

"Having people stay at home? Or having an ugly purple fae on my porch?" He regards me curiously.

I snort, amused in spite of myself. Truly, not a clever man. A smart human would think better than to insult me, no matter how far I've fallen.

"How disgusting that creature smells," I say, looking pointedly at the rheumy dog in his lap.

The dog's tongue lolls out, more drool dropping onto the wooden floor.

No wonder it's mildewed.

"The entire inn stinks of him," I say, and something about that… there's something about that I should make note of, but then Hash grins at me, and I forget whatever it was.

"Good thing my sense of smell isn't as good as a fae's then, hmm, Purple?"

I roll my eyes, settling more deeply into the rocker. "Perhaps," I admit.

"You know, this old place has stood here for generations," he says. The floor of the porch shakes slightly as I rock forward, and my lip curls as I look around for any imminent signs of collapse.

All I see is a veritable family reunion of spiders in the corner. Charming.

"I would have never guessed," I tell him drily.

My rudeness does nothing to dissuade him, but it does put me in a slightly better mood.

"It's been here as long as I can remember," he says.

"Well, considering you were likely birthed on this very porch, I fail to be impressed,"

He laughs again, a sound that makes him seem much younger.

I narrow my eyes at him, the sense of strange… wrongness growing slightly.

Then the dog lets out a truly incredible belch, and I'm forced to look away again. Foul beast.

"That means he likes you," Hash says mildly.

"What, nearly regurgitating his dinner is a sign of approval?" I can't help but laugh at the absurdity of it.

"Mmhmmm."

This late in the day, the fireflies begin to dance around the edge of the Ever Forest, blinking in warm yellows through the thick wall of flowering brambles. There's something… something about the edge of the forest here.

"They say something lives in those woods," Hash tells me, following my attention.

"Well, yes, I'm sure it's full of bugs and other nasty little devils."

"You would be the authority on that, Purple," Hash says, and I bark out a laugh in surprise.

"I would indeed."

"I noticed a few of your tricks, too. Don't think I didn't. I'm old, but I'm not stupid."

"According to whom?" I ask.

He just laughs. The dog rolls onto it's back, and a fresh wave of that sick odor hits me.

A clump of dirt falls from the dogs stomach to the floor of the patio, and I grimace.

"That one you played on my cook was particularly nasty," he tells me merrily.

A sense of wild glee flows through me, and I lean back far in the rocker, grinning widely. "You liked that one, did you?"

A bit of that unsettled prickliness dissolves, and I sigh in relief.

"Well, I didn't love the first bite of the pie, I can tell you that. Swapping salt for sugar made an impression. But when the apples turned into bugs… well, that did make me laugh."

"I wish I could have been there to see it," I say wistfully. "But I'm glad you appreciated all my effort."

"I know you Unseelie folk can't help yourself."

"The bugs were already here, you know," I tell him. "Because you keep a hovel for a home."

"And yet you're staying here with me, Purple," he says, a light in his old eyes. "What does that say about you?"

Some of my mirth disappears again, and I sigh heavily. "That my options are more limited than usual."

"And you had many options in the Underhill?" he asks mildly.

No, I start to say, but clamp my lips shut. Options are not a thing among the Unseelie. Of course, it would seem that way, that we are allowed to do as we please.

But what we are truly allowed to do, the only thing we are supposed to do, is serve at the pleasure of the Dark Queen.

I don't have an answer that I like, so I simply sit, and I rock, and I try to ignore the overpowering smell of Hash's very ugly and thus nearly charming dog.

And I try to remember what it is, exactly, that is so off to me about this damned inn… other than the fact it is truly in need of a deep cleaning and a serious renovation.

Or maybe a large bonfire.

"Don't even think about it," Hash says sharply.

I glance up at the old man in surprise. But no, there's no way he could know what I was thinking.

He sets the dog down, and I let out a breath as the ancient thing limps over to my chair, wagging it's pitiful tail.

And promptly leap out of it as the dog lifts a leg and begins to piss all over it.