CHAPTER NINE
Standing on an old, but well-maintained, wooden porch, I knock on the door in front of me. It’s cold in the mountains now. Summer has left, leaving autumn in its place. The cruel wind whips through the valley, clawing at the desperation in my heart.
It took an entire twenty-four hours for my body to heal from the troll’s magic. I still ache like I’m recovering from an illness, but I ignore the stiffness in my joints and muscles. I have more important things to focus on.
I’m about to knock again when the woman answers. She gives me a knowing, satisfied smile when she sees me and ushers me inside with a jerk of her head. “Would you like tea, Princess? Perhaps something a bit stronger?”
“Why did you give me the handkerchief the day I met you?” I demand as soon as the door closes behind us. Without waiting for an answer, I continue, “It was because you knew I was staying in the palace. You knew I’d met Henri the night before, didn’t you? Don’t tell me you didn’t because I saw it in your eyes.”
I pause as her words catch up with me. “Wait, did you call me ‘princess?’”
She laughs, unconcerned by my frazzled appearance or slightly mad behavior. Lowering her shawl, she turns.
Wings.
The old woman in the village has wings.
She’s a fairy.
“I’ll put water on for tea.” She turns toward the fire, working efficiently in her tiny one-room cottage. Her wings glitter in the light shining through the open windows. “Sit.”
The word is not voiced as a pleasant request; it’s a command.
Too overwhelmed to fight her, I plop into the chair and rest my forehead on the table. “I’m surrounded by magic. My family has a fairy godfather, my husband is cursed, my mother-in-law is a troll, and there’s a fairy in the village.”
The woman makes a tutting sound and places a cup of steaming tea in front of me. She didn’t even wait long enough to pretend the water boiled on its own. “Drink.”
I eye her. “What will it do to me?”
She sets her hands on her hips and stares at me in a way that has me reaching for the cup. “Not all of us are fools like your Mortimer.”
I turn my gaze to the tea. It’s been a long time, several months in fact, since I’ve had a cup. I found leaves in the palace larder, but they were twenty years old. Giving in, I take a sip and almost purr with pleasure.
“You broke the curse,” the fairy says, not wasting a moment. “Fell in love with Henri, didn’t you? Kissed him and destroyed the troll’s malignant magic. It works every time.”
Instead of answering, I sputter, trying to find a way to assure her that I’m not in love with Henri. Not really. Not yet.
Surely not.
“And you’re here, looking like death, so obviously something went awry.” She pushes a sweet biscuit my way. “Tell me.”
The entire story pours out. She sits, making understanding noises every so often. Once I’m finished, I lean forward. “I was hoping, since you knew Henri was the bear, that you might be able to tell me how to get to the troll palace Henri spoke of. The palace that’s located east of the sun and west of the moon.”
She shakes her head and scoots the plate of biscuits toward me when she catches me eying them. “I’m afraid I cannot.”
My body sags with disappointment.
“But I can give you this.” She rummages through a cupboard and produces a rosy apple. “It will aid you in your quest.”
I look at the apple, then at her, and then at the fruit again. I raise an eyebrow. “It’s an apple.”
“Very good,” the woman says, amusement thick in her voice. “A clever girl like you will go far in life.”
I accept the gift, wanting very much to roll my eyes. “Thank you.” Then I murmur under my breath, “I suppose.”
“Saddle my horse and ride along the road, to the east. By evening, you will reach another village. Send the horse home and seek out the woman carding wool on her porch. She lives in the cottage under the cliff.”
“How do you know she’ll be on her porch?”
“What makes you think she won’t?”
I stare at the woman for several moments, wondering if all fairies are mad.
“Fine.” It’s not like I have any other options.
“Wait,” the woman says as I turn to leave. She taps the apple, and to my astonishment, it turns to gold. Not gold like yellow and delicious—actual gold. “Now you may leave.”
Disconcerted, I stare at the fruit.
“Go on now,” the fairy coaxes, hurrying me out.
I look back as I step onto the porch. “I left a cat in the palace. Could you check on her occasionally? Make sure she’s alive?”
Rynn will be less than pleased if I let the nuisance die of neglect.
The fairy steps aside and motions to the fire. The scraggly beast lies on a cushion by the hearth, fast-asleep. I would bet this golden apple she wasn’t there a moment ago.
Feeling more than a little off-kilter, I nod. “All right then. Thank you.”
“Best hurry.” The woman hands me a package of biscuits for my travels, gives me an encouraging smile, and closes the door in my face.
***
I ride all day, and just when I think the woman was wrong, a village appears in the distance. Once I reach the outskirts of town, I give the tawny buckskin mare a pat, and then I send her back the way we came. She trots off, toward home.
The sun sets behind the nearby, tree-lined cliff, and I wrap Henri’s cloak tighter around my shoulders. It carries his forest fragrance and makes my heart ache.
He’s only been gone a day, but I miss him.
Why did I kiss him? Why must I always meddle in things I should leave alone?
I walk for twenty-three minutes before I spot the cottage under the cliff. Sure enough, a woman sits on her porch, carding wool.
A familiar woman. Or a familiar fairy, rather.
I walk toward her, frowning. “Hello again.”
The fairy I spoke with earlier looks up, smiling. “Do I know you, dear?”
Exasperated, I take another step closer. “We spoke not seven hours ago, in your cottage, near the palace of Briadell.”
“I’m afraid I’ve never ventured near the palace.” She leans close, and a smile ghosts across her face as she lowers her voice and says, “Have you heard? Our prince is cursed.”
My eye twitches.
Fine. I’ll play her game.
“I’m looking for a palace in Elsland that’s said to be east of the sun and west of the moon. Can you tell me how to get there?”
“I cannot.” She sets her wool aside, disrupting a sleeping cat in her basket.
My jaw drops as Rynn’s beast stretches and looks up at me, yawning with disinterest.
“But I can give you this to aid in your journey.” The woman holds out the tool she was using.
I purse my lips as I look back at the fairy, trying to contain my irritation. After I trust myself to speak in a civil tone, I ask, “Your carding comb? Do you think that will be of help to me?”
The fairy nods solemnly. “Most assuredly. Now, you must travel eight hours to the east. There’s a woman who can help you in the next village. Look for her in a cottage by the waterfall. She’ll be spinning wool on her porch.”
“It will be the middle of the night when I reach her, and yet you say she’ll be on her porch, spinning wool?”
Instead of answering, the woman adds, “You may ride my horse, but remember to send her home as soon as you reach the village.”
Unable to help myself, I let out a small, mirthless laugh. “That’s very kind of you.”
“You are most welcome,” she says graciously and leads me toward the barn.
I follow her but stop as soon as I pass the doors. The buckskin mare stares at me as she chews a clump of hay.
Turning back to the fairy, I demand, “Now that’s enough. What game are we playing?”
The woman gives me an innocent look. “I don’t understand.”
“That’s the horse I rode here!”
She shakes her head. “No. She’s been in my barn all this time.”
A headache blooms at the base of my skull, but I give the fairy a curt nod. “Fine. Thank you.”
She watches as I saddle the horse, but before I leave, she calls me back. Without so much as asking permission, she pulls the carding comb from the satchel I wear. With a quick tap, it turns to gold.
“Now you may leave.”
Shaking my head, I take the road east. The horse trots at a comfortable pace, apparently unconcerned that she walked all day. We reach the village by the waterfall exactly eight hours later, in the middle of the night, and I send the horse home. She gives me a friendly nicker and then ambles back the way we came.
I watch the mare with suspicious eyes, waiting for her to double back. Eventually, I give up and turn toward the village.
I’m not the least bit surprised when I find the very same fairy sitting on her porch, working with the tiniest spinning wheel I’ve ever seen.
She looks up when she spots me, and her eyes spark with humor. “Pleasant night, isn’t it?”
It’s frigid actually.
I force a smile. “I am looking for a palace in Elsland. It’s said to be located east of the sun and west of the moon. Can you tell me the way?”
When I step forward, I startle the cat that’s fast asleep on her lap. The feline turns my way, peering at me with her familiar yellow stare, almost as if she’s in on the ruse.
“There is no road, I’m afraid,” the fairy says, drawing my attention from the cat.
“Then how do I travel there?”
She shrugs. “The wind may take you if you can convince him your quest is a noble one.”
I shift, thankful for a change of answer. “It is. But how do I speak with the wind?”
“He’s a fairy, child. As substantial as you or me.”
“Another fairy?” I say, losing my patience.
The woman ignores my tone. “Take my horse and my spinning wheel. Ride to the east. He lives on the highest peak in Briadell.”
Gently setting Rynn’s cat aside, the woman leads me to a familiar buckskin mare. The horse whinnies in greeting, happy to see me again. I don’t bother to mention it to the fairy.
“Good luck to you,” the woman says as I lead the horse outside.
“Aren’t you forgetting something?” I hold out the miniature spinning wheel.
The fairy’s eyes sparkle. “Oh, yes.”
With a tap of her finger, the spinning wheel turns to gold.
“Take care with the wind fairies,” she warns as I mount the horse. “They tend to make a habit of sending people on wild goose chases.”
I take a moment to rein in my agitation, and then I thank her for her help.
Once again, I’m riding east, toward the sunrise, toward the East Wind, and hopefully, toward Henri.