LITMIR.BIZ

Скачать книгу

forward with a smile.

      Laurel turned and realised that the low murmur of the crowd was rising in pitch and timbre. But only when a cloud of buzzing insects materialised, seemingly from nowhere, did Laurel understand why. She bit off a shriek as she found herself enveloped in a cloud of extremely active honeybees.

      As quickly as they had come, they were gone. Laurel turned to watch the swarm disappear into the crowd, following the Spring faerie with the shepherd’s crook. Laurel recalled from her reading several ways animals and insects “and other lower life-forms” could be influenced and even controlled by scent. She momentarily pondered the usefulness of tame bees to a society of plants, but her musing was derailed by Tamani’s laughter.

      “Sorry,” he said with a chuckle. A smile still ticked at the side of his mouth. “But you should have seen your face.”

      Laurel’s instinct was to be mad, but she suspected her face had looked pretty funny. “Am I going the right way?” she asked, as though nothing out of the ordinary had just occurred.

      “Yes, I’ll let you know when it’s time to turn.”

      “We’re in Spring now, right? Why does it matter if you walk behind me? It makes me feel lost.”

      “I apologise,” Tamani said, his voice tense. “But this is the way things are around here. You walk behind a faerie who is more than one rank above you.”

      She paused and Tamani almost bumped into her. “That is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.” She turned to Tamani. “And I won’t do it.”

      Tamani sighed. “Look, you’re privileged enough to have standards like that; I’m not.” He glanced at the crowd flowing around them and finally said, quietly, “If I don’t do it, it’s not you who gets in trouble, it’s me.”

      Laurel didn’t want to let it go, but she didn’t want Tamani to be punished for her ideals, either. With one more glance at his downcast eyes, Laurel turned and continued walking. She was increasingly aware of how much she stood out; much more so than in Summer Square. Aside from their various trade implements, everyone around her looked…well…like Tamani. They were dressed in simple, canvas-like material, mostly cut into breeches or calf-length skirts. But as with all faeries, they were attractive and neat. Rather than looking like a stereotypical working class – with worn faces or shabby clothes – they looked more like actors pretending to be working class.

      Much less charming was the way everyone who caught her eye stopped their conversation, smiled, and did the same slight-bend-at-the-waist thing Tamani had done when he’d met her at the Academy. As she and Tamani passed, their chatter would begin again. Several greeted Tamani and tried to say something. He waved them away, but one word in particular kept floating to Laurel’s ears.

      “What’s a Mixer?” she asked once there was a break in the crowd.

      Tamani hesitated. “It’s a little weird to explain.”

      “Oh, well, never mind then, because explaining weird things to me has definitely never been part of this relationship.”

      Her sarcasm brought a sheepish smile to Tamani’s face. “It’s kind of a Spring faerie thing,” he said elusively.

      “Oh, come on,” she said. Then added teasingly, “Tell me or I’ll walk beside you.”

      When he didn’t respond, she slowed down and then quickly spun away from his hand and repositioned herself right by his side.

      “Fine,” he said in a whisper, pushing her gently back up in front of him. “A Mixer is a Fall faerie. It’s not a bad name or anything,” he continued in a rush. “It’s just a…nickname. But it’s something we would never call a Fall to their face.”

      “Mixer?” Laurel said experimentally, liking the feel of it on her tongue. “Because we make things,” she said, laughing. “It’s fitting.”

      Tamani shrugged.

      “What’s a Summer?”

      Now Tamani cringed a bit. “A Sparkler.”

      Laurel laughed, and several of the cheerily clad Springs glanced her way before returning to their work with a little too much of an air of purpose. “What about Winters?”

      Tamani shook his head. “Oh, we would never take Winter faeries so lightly. Never,” he added emphatically.

      “What do you call yourselves?” she asked.

      “Ticers,” Tamani said. “Everyone knows that.”

      “Maybe everyone in Ticer-ville,” Laurel said. “But I didn’t.”

      Tamani snorted when she said Ticer-ville. “Well, now you do.”

      “What does it mean?” Laurel asked.

      “Ticer, like en-tice-ment. It’s what we all do. Well, what we can do, anyway. Mostly only sentries ever use it.”

      “Oh,” Laurel said with a grin. “Ticer. Got it. Why do only sentries use it?”

      “Um,” he began uncertainly, “remember last year when I tried to use it on you?”

      “Oh, that’s right! I’d almost forgotten.” She turned to him in mock anger. “I was mad at you!”

      Tamani chuckled and shrugged. “Point is, it didn’t work very well because you’re a faerie. So only sentries – and specifically sentries who work outside Avalon – ever really have a chance to use it on non faerie creatures.”

      “Makes sense.” Her curiosity sated, Laurel began walking again. Soft fingers touched her waist, guiding her through the still-heavy crowds.

      “To the right here,” Tamani said. “We’re almost there.”

      Laurel was glad to find herself turning down a much less crowded side street. She felt conspicuous and self-conscious and wished she had asked the tall faerie at the kiosk to put the hair jewels in a box. No one else here was wearing anything even remotely similar. “Are we there yet?”

      “That house up there,” Tamani said, gesturing. “The one with the big flower boxes up front.”

      They approached a small but charming house made from a hollowed-out tree, though the tree wasn’t like anything Laurel had ever seen before. Instead of a thick trunk growing straight up, it had a wide base and grew out in a round shape, like an enormous wooden pumpkin. The trunk narrowed again at the top and continued to grow up, sprouting branches and leaves that shaded the house. “How does it grow like that?”

      “Magic. This house was a gift to my mother from the Queen. Winter faeries can ask the trees to grow any way they please.”

      “Why did your mother get a gift from the Queen?”

      “As a thank-you for years of distinguished service as a Gardener.”

      “A gardener? Aren’t there a ton of gardeners?”

      “Oh, no. It’s a very specialised field. One of the most prestigious positions a Spring faerie can aspire to.”

      “Really?” Laurel said sceptically. She’d seen dozens of gardeners just around the Academy.

      Tamani looked at her strangely for a moment before understanding blossomed across his face. “Not like human gardeners. We would call those Tenders here, and yes, there are a lot of them. I suppose you might call my mother a…a midwife.”

      “A midwife?”

      If Tamani heard the question, he made no sign. He knocked softly on the ash door of the strange tree house. Then, without waiting for a response, he opened it. “I’m home.”

      A squeal sounded from inside the house and a flutter of colourful skirts wrapped itself around Tamani’s legs. “Oh, my goodness, what is this?” He detangled the young faerie and lifted her over his head.

Скачать книгу