Page 99 of The Faerie Handmaid

Emerlyn gave her a smile full of regret. “I would,” she said softly, as if ever so slightly embarrassed. “I have thought often of what you said. I should take this opportunity to understand the people who brought you up.”

“I will tell my elder priestess you are bringing the coffin we requested.”

“Expect me in the morning, Morgana.” Emerlyn gestured at the too-short robe and smiled again, with more humor this time. “Just leave it in the courtyard. I’ll collect it when you’ve gone.”

“Thank you.”

“Be safe.”

It was a simple phrase, even a common one, but it felt maternal to Morgana, and she was glad of it. She wished she could think of a way to express that, but nothing came to her mind. In the end she said only, “Until tomorrow, Emerlyn.”

“Yes. Until tomorrow.” Emerlyn added, under her breath, “My dear.”

Morgana, on her way out the door, nearly tripped in surprise. She looked back over her shoulder, but Emerlyn had turned away.

33

Idhri and Master Hugh scoured the floor of the cottage, then covered it with freshly pounded dirt. Emma pronounced it perfectly clean, with no trace of blood remaining. The king had sent a delegation to remove Faolin’s body, and Idhri assumed it had been burned without ceremony. The cottage was theirs again, and Emma prepared a fine supper to celebrate: roasted hare with turnips and carrots, summer greens, and a fine pudding with the bramble berries that were just coming ripe. The three of them sat at the table with the cottage door standing open to the evening breeze.

“Almost fall,” Emma declared as she cut into the pudding. “When the bramble berries come on, summer is almost over.”

“We need to build up the wood pile,” Hugh said.

Idhri had already taken a huge bite of pudding, but he held up a finger for them to wait until he had swallowed. “I’ll cut the wood,” he said. “You can carry on with the boat repairs.”

Emma smiled approvingly. “Good lad,” she said, and Hugh nodded agreement.

The issue of his fae blood had evaporated as if it were no more than a morning mist, and Idhri felt a wave of gratitude. He was about to finish his first serving of pudding, already eyeing another, when he heard his name called from the yard.

“It’s Priestess Braithe!” Emma said. She rose, pushing her chair back, straightening her long apron. “Ask her if she would like some supper, Idhri. Or some pudding.”

Idhri got up and hurried to the door. He saw Braithe standing beside one of the upturned boat hulls, looking up at the cottage. She lifted a hand when she saw him, and he trotted down to meet her, wiping bramble berry juice from his mouth as he went.

“Idhri, I am sorry to interrupt your supper.”

“Not at all! Emma would like you to come in.” Idhri gestured back to the cottage, where Emma now stood in the doorway, shading her eyes against the setting sun.

“I wish I could, but I need to go to the Isle as soon as possible. Something is wrong. I am needed.”

Idhri saw that her eyes were dark with worry and her cheeks pale beneath her scattered freckles. “What’s the matter?” he asked. “How do you know?”

She touched her chest with her fingers. “I feel it,” she said, and he heard the tension in her voice. “I cannot explain, but—can you help me? Would you take me in your boat?” She glanced around her at the boats under repair. “Do you have a boat just now?”

“Of course,” he said hastily. “It’s moored at the dock.” He glanced back at the cottage, where Emma stood hopefully in the doorway. “Let me ask my master, Braithe. Come with me.”

“No, Idhri. I had best wait here. Please hurry.”

He was on the point of turning back to the cottage, but he paused. “It might be too late today. The evenings are drawing in.”

“I know, but I hoped—if we could leave right away—”

“I’ll be right back.” He spun and loped up through the yard to the cottage.

It took only a moment to explain to Emma and Hugh what little he knew. Emma clicked her tongue and said something about waiting until morning, but Hugh said, “Nay, Emma. This is Priestess Braithe, who brought our lad back to us. If she says she needs to go, we go.”

“Let me put together some food—”

Idhri said, “There’s no time. We don’t want to be rowing through that mist in the dark.”