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“Neat.”
“He said I could tell my sister under an assumption she wouldn’t believe me.”
Alana releases a wounded exclamation. “How dare he.”
I plug my free ear. “Anyway, she did. So now since he’s sleeping, she wants to look for awake faeries, and, admittedly, I don’t know much about faerie lore or culture since I read mostly contemporary…so I wanted to make sure we weren’t about to…” I wince, hoping I’m not being offensive. “…you know…get…cursed? He mentioned once that not all faeries were friendly.”
Cat noises filter through the line.
“Ollie’s not with you?” Willow asks.
“He’s asleep on a pillow in our room.”
“Zy says you’re going to die.”
I squeak, “What?”
Irate cat noises explode in my ear before Willow blurts, “Joke! I was joking. Come on, Zy. I gotta take advantage of my humanity every once in a while, right?” Softer cat noises. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m almost never sarcastic.”
So we aren’t going to die?
Attempting to regulate my heart rate, I divert the topic slightly. “You can understand Zylus when he’s a cat?”
“He’s not a cat right now. Human devices react funny with glamour, making pictures and audio impossible to pick up without enchantments, and it’s a whole legal process to get those approved. At any rate, where are you guys?”
“A city near Greenville, South Carolina.”
Willow blows out a breath. “That’s not in Cael’s domain. City faeries can be more dangerous than country faeries. Possibly even unseelie. There’s a lot more chaotic human energy wandering around to influence their moods, overwhelm them, convince them strange things are perfectly acceptable human behavior.”
“So we probably should go back home?” I ask, trying to mask my relief.
“What? No!” Alana jerks her attention toward me as she slams on the brakes at a light.
I lurch forward, nearly losing Timmy. “Alana.”
“Don’t give me Mom tone. I drive perfectly fine.”
“Sounds like your sister doesn’t want to play things safe,” Willow notes. “Zy would feel better if Ollie were with you. You’re not protected in the same way I am.”
“What does that mean?”
“Zylus literally owns me, body and soul, so I can’t mess up or be messed with without his consent. It’s different for you and Ollie. You’re more vulnerable. Especially right now while you’re still partly human.”
Still…partly human?
“Agreeing to anything, expressing any thanks, offering anything, it can all put you in faerie debt if you happen to stumble upon an unfriendly creature or even just one who doesn’t realize it’s taking a joke too far. Faerie games aren’t like human ones. Just like you’re coming to understand their culture, many of them are largely oblivious to what has been yours. They might not mean any harm, but their rules are different, and many don’t interact with humans enough to learn that their normal isn’t exactly a mortal’s normal. Making the right side of your body function like it’s the left might be funny to them and harrowing to you. So long as you don’t find anyone malicious, it’s unlikely you’ll wind up intentionally hurt, but Zy’s not willing to give the okay and let his best friend’s mate take that chance.”
My stomach sinks at another confirmation malicious faeries exist, and I look at Alana before putting my phone on speaker. “So we should definitely head back?”
Zylus responds with cat chirps, then Willow translates, “You should wait until Ollie can be there with you if you want to socialize with strange faeries. Also, I can’t know for sure since human and faerie genes are weird, but if your sister isn’t like us, she’s even less equipped to deal with whatever you might find. It’s better not to take a chance in an unfamiliar territory. If you do happen to see a faerie while Ollie’s not with you, don’t engage with it.”
“I understand,” I say.
“Cool. Now please don’t call again; my ringtone gives me anxiety.”
In the background, Zylus complains, but Willow hangs up without further interpretation.
I face Alana as she eases the vehicle forward in traffic. “So that’s that. Should we turn around, or do you want to get dinner? I’m sure Dad’s passed out on the couch by now, and Mom won’t be back until late, so we either pick up food or scavenge in the fridge, hoping we don’t use anything Mom’s set aside for a planned meal.” I raise my hand. “My vote’s on Taco Bell.”
