Chapter Eleven

The sun was setting by the time Brook made her way back to Kerren’s manor. It hadn’t been her intention to be away all day, but after leaving the Queen’s garden she’d gone for a walk to think about what little they’d discussed.

She searched through the quiet house looking for Kerren, eventually finding him in the backyard. Strange lights hovered in the air around him, and once she got closer she realized they were small fae.

Her hands covered her mouth to catch her gasp, in case they’d be scared away. Still, Kerren turned and noticed her.

“There you are.” He stood and walked to meet her. “I was worried until I was told you weren’t alone.”

“Right,” she said, still staring at the glowing fae. “One of the guards followed me around to keep me from getting too lost. He wouldn’t share his name. Awkward, really, but that doesn’t matter. Fairies?”

He glanced to where she stared. “Pixies. Precocious demifae, and easy to invite over. When they have sweets, they become quite celebratory.”

“They’re tiny… do they talk?”

He nodded and placed a hand on her back, guiding her forward. “They do, but perhaps not tonight. When I sprinkled the honey crystals, I wasn’t considering the frost globes on the other side of the garden.”

“What are those?”

“Fae fruit that tends to over-ripen and ferment on the vine.”

“They’re drunk?” she asked with a half-laugh.

“Drunk and hyper. Fun to watch right now while they’re dancing, but soon enough my yard is going to be hosting a demifae orgy.” He sighed and shook his head. “Sorry. It seemed like a promising idea this morning.”

Brook chuckled softly, watching the pixies dance as if the night breeze was a melody. “You brought them here to see me?”

“I thought you would enjoy their company. And I’m certain if they weren’t in their current state they’d want to meet you.”

“I appreciate it.”

They stood and observed the tiny fae in quiet for a few moments, but as Kerren had predicted, dancing soon turned to groping.

“Ready for dinner?” Kerren asked.

The day had felt long already, and though normally stress made her eat, she’d felt almost too anxious to be hungry. Almost.

“I’m curious to see what sort of dinner you have here.” As the words left her mouth, her stomach growled. “Okay, I guess I’m hungrier than I thought. It seems like I haven’t eaten enough since I got here.”

“Don’t worry. It’s a temporary side-effect of traveling through the portal. Something about the time change, I think.” The kitchen lit as he stepped in and opened the cupboard.

Though most of Prism seemed less than modern, it still surprised Brook to see how magic could replace technology in a nearly seamless manner. Until now, she hadn’t realized that there was no light switch in this room—or any of the rooms.

Instead, candles lined the walls and sat on tables, ready to flicker on at the appearance of people. They gave more light than traditional candles and burned a soft white rather than dim yellow.

Much like the self-heating and pampering tub, she wondered if this magic was standard or a luxury.

“Does everyone live like this?” she asked.

“How do you mean?” He didn’t look up from his task of slicing a large loaf of bread and arranging the pieces on a plate.

“The candles and the overall… ease of magic.” She sat on a stool and watched him.

He opened a small jar containing what appeared to be an orange spread and placed it on the plate before pushing it towards her. “Something to snack on while I cook,” he explained, then leaned on the counter with furrowed brows. “Yes and no. There is a cost for magic. Not financial but… something intangible. Being fae, it simply happens and makes sense to me. It’s different for all the different fae. Brownies, for example, always have spotless homes that feel comfortable.”

“That sounds nice,” Brook said and scooped a piece of bread through the spread.

“It truly is. You could sit in a Brownie’s living room and it will simply feel like home and have all the comforts of a home. They don’t need to buy food. It’s always around. They don’t need blankets because the temperature is always right, but any blankets they offer you will be the softest you’ve ever held.”

“Wow.” She tried to imagine such a thing. “I’d like to experience that someday.”

“I’m sure you will. The Barrows has a large Brownie population, and they love guests. Just be sure to bring them gifts. Company should always bring gifts to Brownies unless the visit wasn’t intended. Which happens—they are likely to welcome you in straight off the streets,” he said with a laugh.

He’d pulled some vegetables from below the counter and now chopped them. The fae versions of onions, carrots, and cabbage, from what she could guess. She took a bite of her bread and was pleasantly surprised. The dip tasted sweet yet cheesy.

“Oh my goodness,” she marveled.

“I thought you’d like that. This spread’s recipe has been in my family since the beginning of time—or so they say.”

“You made it?”

“I did. I enjoy cooking.” He minced a small brown root and set the knife down. “It’s even more enjoyable when I’m with someone who appreciates it.”

“I certainly appreciate food, and you make a sexy chef,” she agreed. “But what about humans with no magic?”

Tearing the leaves of a strange teal plant, he shrugged. “I’m actually not sure. But as nobility, you’ll have servants, and their magic will infuse to wherever you live. Like an impression.”

“I don’t want servants,” she said with a slight frown. “I can take care of myself.”

“Some fae live to serve, Brook. It’s not a position without perks and respect.” He tossed everything into a pot and sprinkled various seasonings into it. “But if you’d like, simply promote someone to be your assistant, as I did. Vevina was bound to my family through a blood-debt incurred long before I was born, but I hated the idea of a life-long servant.”

“Blood-debt?” Brook asked. “So she’s your servant forever?”

“Assistant. And yes, for her life. Before you ask, I can’t revoke it—that would be disrespectful to her entire lineage.”

“The fae are strange.”

He grinned. “To you. But Vevina’s magic is what soothed you in the tub, for example. Though I suspect she left a quite intentional imprint there. She lives for bubble baths.”

A flicker of sadness crossed his expression, and unless she was mistaken, the lights momentarily dimmed. She didn’t know how long Vevina had served him, but she suspected most of his life. It was hard to imagine how he felt, but she knew there was little she could do to help. What was between them could only be solved by them.

“What sort of fae is Vevina?”

“She’s part naiad, part other things… but her story isn’t mine to tell.”

Brook leaned forward, head tilting in curiosity. “You’ve told me about others, though.”

“I have. Vevina though… aside from the fact that she tells it better, if I tell you what she is you’ll have endless questions.”

“Ah.”

“What did the Queen say?” he asked.

“Not much, actually. But what she did say made me realize that my protests about moving to Prism are… silly.”

“I wouldn’t call wanting to live your own life silly,” he disagreed.

He turned and filled the pot with water, then set it over the fire.

“I left my phone in your hotel room,” she said, stirring the bread through the creamy spread. “And I haven’t missed it. I woke up this morning and something was missing… the dread of having to sit at a desk for ten hours while being unappreciated and underpaid. I have wanted to make a million changes to my life, and I have the opportunity now. I’m over how I got here, and I’m eager to take advantage of it.”

He smiled and stirred the pot with a long-handled wooden spoon. “You make Prism seem… fresh. I suppose growing up here, it doesn’t have the same sparkle to me.”

“The grass is always greener on the other side,” Brook commented.

“What’s that?”

“A saying. The grass is always greener… It’s easy to look at someone else’s life or something you don’t have, and it will seem better than your life or what you have.”

He appeared thoughtful and set the spoon down on the counter before moving to the island where she sat. He tore off a small piece of bread and ate it, watching her intently.

“Is something wrong?” she asked, feeling self-conscious.

“I’m relieved that you will be fine here. I couldn’t have left knowing you were going to be miserable for eternity.”

Her heart tumbled. For a while, she’d forgotten their impending separation. “You’re eager to explore Earth some more? You’ll need a new guide.”

He nodded. His eyes had lost their sparkle, and he seemed lost in thought.

“I wish you’d stay,” she said softly.

“I’m not sure if it would be wise for me to. It could be like you say, that I’m imagining that things would be better somewhere else simply because I’m not there. Or it could be like your situation, where I need to go where I have the opportunity to create a better life.”

She knew what he meant, though the thought of being apart filled her with a hollow sensation. Her feelings for Kerren were clear in her heart, and she suspected he knew and felt the same way.

But is that enough for him to change his dreams? If I tell him what I want and ask him to stay, is it smart or is it selfish?

“Dinner’s ready,” he announced.

* * * *

Brook rolled over and stared at the gauzy curtains hiding the moon and stars. The bed in Kerren’s guest room was easily as large and comfortable as his own bed, and he’d revealed that it was once his room growing up. Still, it felt lonely here. The house was massive but empty.

She couldn’t imagine how he stood it, and it gave her insight as to why he’d leave. What was the point of the magic lights and pixies and fancy furniture without people? Surely Kerren had friends? More family?

It didn’t make sense. He was a duke. She just assumed he’d be surrounded by others at all times. He’d mentioned servants, but she’d never seen a soul around the manor.

The sound of gentle footsteps down the hall made her sit up and look at the door. It creaked open and Kerren entered slowly.

“Ah. You aren’t asleep,” he commented.

“And if I was?”

He didn’t say anything but sat on the edge of the bed. “I don’t know, really. Maybe I just wanted to be creepy and watch you sleep.”

“Your honesty is so refreshing,” she joked.

“I’ll go,” he said.

“No.” She pulled the covers back and patted the bed beside her. “Lay with me? I’m having trouble falling asleep.”

The bed dipped as he climbed on and scooted beside her. His body curled against hers familiarly, as if this was typical. They fit together well.

“I know why I can’t sleep, but what about you? I thought you were at peace with everything,” he whispered.

“Just thoughts. I tend to over-think things. My brain is awake and analyzing too much. It’s not unusual.”

He kissed her shoulder and sighed against her neck, his breath warm and tickling her skin.

“You live alone in this huge mansion,” she said carefully.

“I do. It’s been in the family forever, I’m told. But once, servants lived here, and families had many generations.”

“Where is your family? Don’t you have cousins? Aunts? Uncles?” she asked.

“Cousins all over, yes. One aunt. No uncles. The fae don’t usually have more than one or two children.”

“Why not?”

“We simply don’t. We don’t procreate as easily as humans, just as humans don’t procreate as easily as rabbits. It’s related to life expectancy, I suppose.”

“The fae live long…” Her eyes widened. “Oh my… fuck.”

“Something wrong?”

“The Queen said the King was two hundred. I meant to ask about it but something else came up and I just forgot… how long do you live?”

He grew quiet, and she turned over to face him. His eyes were open and staring at her, but he seemed deep in thought.

“Kerren?”

“We live as long as we live. Very few of the fae are the type to suffer from old age, though it does happen. Otherwise… forever.”

“And the humans?”

“The same. That’s part of why humans have to be claimed. Except for rare exceptions—you, for example—the humans share their extended lives with whoever claimed them. Individuals or even entire bloodlines. Depends on how they choose to have it done,” he explained. “I feel like a fool. I didn’t say anything. I didn’t even think of it.”

“But you’re leaving Prism.”

“Yes. And if I’m away long enough, I lose that immortality. I’d age.”

“And you’re okay with that?” She searched his face.

“If it meant happiness, yes. I’ve lived… I’m not two hundred, but…” He swept his hand over her cheek. “You’re going to ask, so for the record, I’m only a little over twice your human age.”

She took a deep breath and rolled over to lay on her back and stare at the ceiling. The news was shocking, and she couldn’t begin to unravel how this fit in with the other adaptations.

She’d thought of living forever before. Not seriously, but rationally. The sort of theorizing one did with friends when drinking beers and watching a vampire movie.

What will I do with forever?

“But wouldn’t everyone get bored eventually? Sick of each other?”

“That’s what the Fade is for. It’s where the fae can go to rest. It can be temporary or permanent. Like a long nap.” He propped himself up on one elbow and watched her. “Are you okay? I can’t imagine the sort of shock…”

A tear rolled down her cheek, though she didn’t know why. Shock. Fear. Whatever emotion she had, she couldn’t identify it. Maybe it was hope.

“I’m fine,” she said shakily. “But hold me?”

He pulled her to lay across his chest, brushing his fingers through her wild hair. He pressed his lips to the top of her head and said, “I wish I knew what to say to make it better.”

Tell me you love me and that you’ll stay. Aloud all she could offer was, “Just another thing to add to my to-be-pondered list.”

She stroked his muscled chest and toyed with the tiny patch of hair that tickled her cheek. For a hound, he was actually quite smooth in this form. She pressed herself closer to him and lifted her head to kiss his cheek.

Flames flickered to life in his eyes, faint but noticeable. She kissed his mouth and shuddered as his arms wrapped tight around her. She didn’t want more tonight, but she needed this for now.

Drawing back, she trapped his lower lip between her teeth and simply stared at him, losing herself in the glowing green fire. She let go and smiled.

Returning to the comfortable spot under his arm and pressed against his body, she released a deep breath. Forever would be a long time to be without Kerren.