Ferrous (Fae's Folly Book 1) Read online

  At least dessert won’t make me feel conflicted, stabby thoughts. Kai chops the wheel of cheese into smaller wedges, revealing bursts of red streaked throughout.

  “What’s in it?”

  “Cranberries,” he says, holding out a piece. “They’re in season.” Autumn. Ryland’s season.

  I bow my head in thanks, but before I can raise it to my mouth, he’s handing me a stick.

  “Hold on. Let me see,” he says, gesturing toward the cheese. I relinquish the beauty and he spears the cheese before handing it back. “It’s much better toasted.”

  My eyes get huge and I feel like a child for the second time tonight. “Like a marshmallow?”

  His dark brows draw inward. “You guys toast them?”

  “I’m never going to understand our cultural gaps and similarities,” I mumble while shaking my head. I glance to Bash in disbelief before returning to Kai. “You’re invited to our s’mores party as soon as we hit the capital.”

  He tries the word in his mouth as Bash spears his own wedge of cheese. “If we have time, then.”

  “Oh, you’ll want time for this.” I shake my stick of cheese at him. “Am I good to roast?”

  “Clear for takeoff, ma’am.”

  I lift my cheese over a few glowing coals, rotating it like a marshmallow. “And why is it you know airplane lingo but not s’mores?” I groan.

  “S’mores don’t make a good soldier.”

  “Maybe a good scout,” I grumble. A girl or boy scout.

  Bash pulls his cheese from the fire, flames dancing all around it. He allows them to blacken the cheese, then snuffs it by encompassing the wedge with the palm of his hand. Show-off. He eats the burnt layer, then returns it to the fire for a second round.

  Me? I’m still working on slow-toasted goodness. And I’m interested to see if fae cheese can really hold up to being toasted. Kai is using a similar strategy while Ryland eats the cheese as is. By the time mine is golden and gooey and ready to go, Bash is through his fourth piece. Classic.

  Kai warns me to guard my mouth, but I’m a veteran of microwaved pizza pockets and bite into the wedge with expertise.

  Have you ever microwaved a pile of shredded cheese until it became a giant cheese cookie? The outside of this cheese wedge has the same crunchy texture, intensified in some areas by the caramelized sugar of the cranberries. My first bite is tentative, but once I realize how delicious it is I sink my teeth into that sucker deep.

  This isn’t a marshmallow, though. The lack of gelatin is apparent the moment my teeth puncture the wedge. Molten cheese pours into my mouth like I’ve bored into Hell itself, and there’s little I can do but breathe rapidly with my jaw unhinged in desperation. The night air cools it quickly, but the moment lasts an eternity for my pride.

  This time it’s Bash who offers me water. I accept, making eye contact with no one as I cool my palate. Handing it back, I turn to Kai.

  “It was delicious.” A polite smile stretches across his face, one that says I am trying very hard not to laugh for your sake, but I don’t blame him. “Maybe I’ll try Bash’s method for the next one,” I add.

  “That may be a safer option,” he agrees. And it is. I’m able to get the caramelized cranberries and toasted cheese layer after layer without having to worry about hot magma flooding my mouth. After my second piece, I lay down my stick in defeat.

  “No more.”

  Ryland stands, calling attention to his superior height as he looms over the three of us. “Let’s wrap this up and get to bed. Mortal, will the fire keep you sufficiently warm overnight?”

  “I…I think?” I mean, it has until now, hasn’t it? But I’ve never slept in the open during fall. Or any season, if I recall correctly.

  “I shouldn’t require my cloak,” Bash declares. “I’ll loan it for the night?”

  Kai’s hands press together in a silent clap. “Actually, that’ll refresh her own cloak’s scent with yours overnight. That’s a wonderful idea.”

  “Then our discussion is finished,” Ryland says before striding off to dig a sleeping pad out from his rucksack. He nods to Bash. “See you after second.” Bash mimes a salute, which I imagine has Ryland’s eyes rolling as he makes his bed on the outskirts of camp.

  Kai’s now smoothing out a sleeping pad of his own, laying it close to the fire. He looks to me once he’s finished. “I have first watch, so we’ll lay you down here,” he says, patting the pad.

  I know it isn’t a bed, exactly, but I’m a little scarred from the cardamom bed experience. “Won’t my iron funk contaminate your sleeping arrangement?” Iron Funk would make a kick-ass band name.

  A dry chuckle escapes him. “Mallory, I’m half human-scented as it is right now. Be comfortable and rest.”

  I tentatively amble over to the pad, which he retreats from upon my approach. “Thank you as always, Kai.”

  I pause, not quite ready to lower myself onto the pad. Never in my life have I given so much thought toward the way people smell. It’s something you note in a good or bad way in passing, seldom thought of again unless explicitly noticeable. In this realm of oppressive scents, I still don’t know what Kai smells like.

  “Something wrong?”

  “No. This is generous, I just—I have a silly question.”

  His eyes dance with curiosity. “Yes?”

  “This is probably going to sound psycho, but did the human realm weaken your scent or something? You’re the only one I haven’t smelled, and it’s kind of eating at my brain.”

  He chuckles underneath his breath. “I believe it did.” I nod, and he looks down for a moment before capturing my eyes again. “You might pick it up on the sleeping pad tonight, however.”

  “I know it’s totally weird, but I’ve been assaulted all day by roses and grass and Bash and Ryland…I’m curious.”

  He flashes a rare toothy grin. “That’s fair. On Earth, I once found myself curious about the entire menu of a fast food taco restaurant.”

  I brace myself for a horror story. “Were there regrets?”

  “Like a day and a half of them,” he groans.

  Oh, you poor, innocent thing. “Yeah, I wouldn’t imagine fae stomachs are used to that degree of abuse.”

  “Definitely not.” He looks to the bed again. “Let’s get you guys some rest. Maybe you’ll find a whisper of Winter in your sleep if your Summer cloak doesn’t drown it out,” he says with half of a grin.

  I purse my lips to the side and sigh, still uncomfortable with continuously taking from them, but grateful all the same. And it’s not like I really chose to come here.

  Bash arrives with his cloak in hand. “I’ll tuck you in, Mally-girl!”

  His enthusiasm catches me off guard. One minute I’m corralling him like the kids at daycare, while in the next he has me sweating as he pulverizes wood with his hands. It’s a good sort of whiplash.

  I remove my cloak, the crisp air greeting my body for the first time today. It’s refreshing but quickly reminds me of my vulnerabilities. I settle onto the pad, arranging the cloak around me like a blanket. Bash stands ready with his own stretched between his hands.

  “Ready?”

  I flash him the OK sign. “You sure you’ll be alright without it?”

  He splays the cloak out midair, giving it a flap so it’ll fall evenly. “Even in the Arctic.”

  “Move closer to the fire if you need it, Ankerstrand,” Ryland says from the shadows. “And Kai? Just watch. Let everyone see what they approach should they try us.”

  “Goodnight, Mallory,” Bash says before laying down across the fire.

  “Night, Bash,” I reply, rolling onto my side.

  “Sleep well,” Kai murmurs.

  I inhale deeply before falling asleep, determined to discover Kai’s scent. It’s like collecting the final Pokémon card you’ve been missing for months. Or that’s what I’d imagine it to feel like if my parents had bought me any. Sharp pine and cooling eucalyptus wash over me, transporting me to an en
tirely different forest. I dream of sledding and snowball fights.

  I’m tiring of excusing myself to pop a squat somewhere in the woods, fully knowing their fae ears are aware of every rumble or whoosh my body makes. Clara told me some toilets in Japan play the sound of a trickling stream when you pee. I could use one of those now. But I can’t imagine a society with supernatural hearing would care about bodily cacophonies as much as humans, anyway. It must become white noise to them, like the buzzing of a refrigerator. At least, I really hope it does.

  Kai approaches me as I return to camp, his left hand held out. “Walnuts?”

  “If it’s an option between walnuts for breakfast and no breakfast,” I say, cupping my hands together, “gimme those nuts.”

  Faint traces of pink gain territory over his cheekbones as his lips press together. I feel wicked. He drops the walnuts into my hands and I dip my head in thanks. No more curtsies for these tired bones.

  “I dreamed of snowy hills and winter last night,” I say as he’s turning.

  He rakes his good hand through his hair. “Oh, yeah?”

  “Mhmmm. You smell like Christmas.”

  “It’s a standard Winter brand, for sure. Do you enjoy Christmas?”

  My lips scrunch to the side. Holidays were always hit and miss for us. Mom and Dad rarely escaped the hospital, so celebrations were always untimely or turned into a dinner outing. I envied families with multiple children who spent the morning slowly opening gifts and evening eating dinner with all the cousins. Mine wasn’t an awful childhood, but in hindsight it was lonely.

  “What’s not to love?” I reply. No one wants to hear the sob story of two working surgeons’ only child. “And there’s nothing as fresh as winter air.”

  “But have you smelled the sea?” Bash says from strapping his rucksack to Pebbles’ hind.

  “I smell it on you every day.” The salt is but a whisper beneath his smoke and sandalwood, but it’s there.

  “Winter air is fine, but you don’t know fresh until you’ve hit the Ember Isles. Winter air’s always plagued by low-hanging wood smoke.” His nose crinkles.

  “But that’s what you smell like to me,” I protest.

  “It’s different!”

  “If you say so.”

  “I do,” he harrumphs.

  I look to Ryland, who sits on a felled tree waiting for us to finish. “Aren’t you going to tell me how Autumn’s the best?”

  “Not in the slightest,” he replies. “Everything becomes muddled by the stink of decaying earth. I prefer Spring, myself.”

  I have nothing to say to that, because I wasn’t expecting an honest answer. Instead, I return to Kai, who seems determined to struggle with his bandages alone. Lowering to the ground, I pat my lap. “You know the drill.”

  He sucks air through his teeth. “I think this’ll be the last time. Just to protect it from the road.” He gives me his hand and I can’t disagree. There are no signs of scabs, and some of the new skin isn’t as pink and shiny anymore.

  “Does this mean you can use magic?” At least we’re done with the salve. I don’t know how fae stand it if it’s this strong to my mortal senses alone.

  “It’ll drain me sooner than usual due to my extended stay at Meadowbrook, but I think I can manage now if the need arises.”

  “Can I ask what it is?” Is it too sensitive for me to ask? Bash and Ryland certainly haven’t been shy. But they aren’t, anyway. Kai is.

  His mouth quirks to the side as if he’s considering something amusing. “How about you guess?” Amusing to only him, apparently.

  This didn’t go over so well for me with the porno glass, but I’ll take a stab. “I know it’s presumptuous, but I’ve got to start with the obvious: Do you freeze things or cause snow storms?”

  He shakes his head. “While that is quintessential Winter, it isn’t the power I possess.”

  “Hmm.”

  “Let me preface it this way: What happens in the winter?”

  “Life freezes over and your face hurts.”

  He says nothing, meaning to make me stew in it.

  Winter. Winter, winter. “Uhhh, it gets cold. But you aren’t Elsa. The days get short—are you like Ant Man and get all tiny?”

  His laugh warms my heart. “No, but you’re on the right track. Why are the days short?”

  “The sun hates us.”

  “And what’s the opposite of light?”

  “Darkness.”

  “Shadow,” he confirms.

  “Shadow. What can you do with shadows?” I ask, patting his hand to let him know we’re finished wrapping.

  “It takes many forms. Some Winter fae can fashion the illusion of clothing from shadows, materializing the creations from their mind. Others can draw the light from a room, which has useful applications in surprising enemies or saying goodnight to children.”

  “I’d like to see such clothes,” I wistfully sigh.

  “The capital is the right place to do so, fortunately for you.” We stand and brush ourselves off, making our way to the horses. “Anyway, the applications are as numerous as the stars, and in ancient times there were even fae who could travel within the shadows themselves.”

  “Why not anymore?”

  “That’s a longer story to come, I’m afraid. Suffice it to say, some fae grew as powerful as nature herself. Our current gifts are less cataclysmic, mine being exceptional night vision and the ability to cloak myself in shadows.”

  “Hold up. Like become one with the shadows?”

  He smiles. “If I stand where there’s a shadow, I basically turn invisible.”

  “Oh! That’s way cool.” Barry’s dark coat and Ryland’s instructions to Kai last night make more sense in hindsight. “Is that what your father does?” I can see that working for intrigue.

  “It is,” he says somewhat melancholic before turning to Ryland. “We’re ready.”

  The pouty non-prince stands from the log to meet us. Bash, already finished tacking Pebbles, stands ready.

  I peer up at him from below my eyelashes. “Will you help me again today?”

  His charming grin makes an appearance. “Of course.”

  Ryland vaults onto Brigit while I make her acquaintance. She lifts her head from grazing to sniff my boots. I drop my hand down to greet her, which she sniffs before returning to the boots.

  “She likes Spring,” Ryland says from above.

  “Like her owner, then.”

  He grunts.

  “Alright, Bash. Let’s try this again.” He responds by widening his stance and readying his hands. I’m searching Brigit for places to grip when a pale hand lowers into sight. Ryland Everhart is offering his hand to a human.

  “No need to injure Brigit over this,” he states dryly.

  Peh. I guess there’s no need to injure myself over my pride, either. So, I grab his hand. It’s more calloused than I expected, supporting his proud archery boasts. With Bash’s push and extra stability from Ryland, it’s the easiest ascent I’ve made yet. After yesterday’s display of weakness, the only logical choice is for me to sit in front again. His scent washes over me.

  “You don’t smell like decay in the least bit.” It’s got to be the cardamom.

  “Spring mother.”

  “Ah.” He may redeem some brownie points yet if it turns out the reason Spring is his favorite is because he’s a mama’s boy.

  His voice hovers over my right shoulder. “Hand me the reins.” I move to do so, but realize I need another fae seatbelt if I’m to make it into the capital today. Surely, he realizes. I’m debating the best way to ask without posturing any more than need be when Kai pulls up next to us.

  “She’s going to need your arms wrapped underneath her own to stay in place,” he graciously reminds. I meet his eyes. Thank you.

  Ryland rustles behind me. “Lift.” I do, and he rigidly falls around me before seizing the reins. It pains me to admit how refreshing he is after a few days of oceanic bonfire. “Don’t expect
me to do all the work.”

  I hum my acknowledgment, reluctantly locking my grip onto his wrists. His only indication of distaste is a sharp inhale, which he holds way too long to be human before releasing and resuming normal breathing patterns. At least we aren’t arguing yet.

  And we’re off again. It isn’t long before the lights of the town Kai visited twinkle in the distance. It doesn’t surprise me when we veer down a less-traveled road leading around it. Even though the sun’s yet to rise, they aren’t taking any chances. I’m concerned about how they’ll navigate somewhere more populated like the capital, but allow my mind to wander as we enter new terrain.

  Rather than forest, the land stretching miles before us is tilled and irrigated. Every direction I look teems with agriculture, the smattering of farm houses along the way appearing infinitesimal by comparison. Many crops bow over, weighed by their fruits, while some fields are already post harvest. Every so often we pass the smoking remains of small fires I presume were made to burn excess plant material. These fields could feed an entire kingdom.

  My curiosity breaks our silence. “How many people live in the capital?”

  Ryland sighs, and I can’t discern whether it’s in thought or frustration. “Easily two million, but it used to be double or triple that.”

  “What changed?”

  “The War of the Ancients.”

  “Were you there for that?” I still have no idea how old these guys are.

  “No,” he says, drawing in a long breath and exhaling it with such force it feels as though he’s using his gifts. “This isn’t Ask Your Pet Fae Day. You get one more question, Meadowbrook.”

  “You guys know that isn’t my last name, right? And that better not count as my question.”

  “And your true name is?”

  I sigh. “This is going to seem silly now, but I wanted to point it out.”

  “And?”

  “It’s Brooks. My name is Mallory Brooks.”

  Deep laughter vibrates across my back as tremors roll from his chest. It’s one of the first honest reactions I’ve experienced from him that isn’t contempt or disgust. For a moment I take great pleasure in knowing it was I who caused this moment of sincerity, but then I remember it’s at my expense.