Again, I got a distinct feeling of indignation and distress coming from the bracelet. Without thinking about what I was doing, I reached over and patted the stone lightly. The distress turned to a low hum of satisfaction, and I froze. I pulled my hand away slowly and rested it on the table.
Finn, not missing anything, raised his brows.
“I don’t know why I just did that. It was upset when you mentioned the Object being destroyed, I think, and I—” I stuttered to a stop as I thought about it. How could I explain what had just happened?
“You're sure you can read what it feels?” The way he was eyeing the bracelet suspiciously made me want to cover it protectively with my other hand.
“I think so?” I’m not sure if ‘read’ was the correct term, but I had definitely been getting distinct impressions from it.
“That is a good thing, most likely.” He paced across the table, his chin in his hand. “Every children’s tale centered around a fae Object I’ve ever heard mentions its personality. Most are portrayed as the voice of reason for its Maker or holder. Some are mischievous but not necessarily destructive, unless it was Made to be. There is one story that centers around an Object that sounds similar to the one in this scroll, but I think it centered more on the human that managed to steal the Object and the evil things the human tried to use it for. There was no mention of that Object going mad or having to be destroyed, but it was only a children’s story.”
“Well, how did it end, then?” I took a sip of my coffee, pointedly not looking at the bracelet.
He stopped pacing and looked out across the yard, thinking. “The evil human was killed, if I remember correctly, either by a brave pixie warrior or a woodland troll.”
I choked on the coffee as it went down the wrong tube and coughed for several seconds, unable to catch my breath. My wrist grew warm, and suddenly I could breathe again. Taking a cautious breath, my hand went to my chest.
Finn, his eyes wide, pointed. I looked down at the hand resting lightly against my breastbone. The bracelet was glowing brightly, even in the afternoon sun. “Did that just do what I think it did?”
As the glow faded, I nodded. “If you mean did it just stop my choking? I think so.”
“Your well-being is important to it.”
I bit back a retort that it wasn’t likely I would have choked to death on my coffee. I might have embarrassed myself and coughed for a while longer, thrown up, or wet myself at worst, but I wasn’t going to tell him that.
Thank it.
The bracelet?
No, your coffee cup. Of course the bracelet! And do it with sincerity.
I looked at my wrist. “Thank you.” I tried to push gratitude into my words. In response, I felt . . . pride? It was hard to tell with the overwhelming smugness coming from Zara.
That will do.
“Did you just thank the bracelet?” Finn asked, one eyebrow up.
I held up my hands. “I thanked the potential fae Object that may have just saved me from choking to death.” Now there was amusement coming from both the bracelet and my familiar. Changing the subject, I asked, “So what is a woodland troll?”
“From what I know of them, they have long been extinct.”
Finn and I nearly jumped out of our skins as our heads whipped around at the sound of an accented voice. Finn took to the air, his sword in one hand. We hadn’t heard anyone approach, but two people stood at the edge of the terrace. How long had they been standing there? The speaker—Dorn—I recognized from this morning. The other was a woman with long, radiant red hair. From the color and length of it, I thought it might be the angry woman from the river. Quickly composing myself, I stood and walked over to greet them. They glanced at each other, then watched me approach. I heard Finn behind me, but I didn’t take my eyes off the visitors.
Zara? Did you hear them approach?
There was a pause, then, No. They must be shielding themselves. Sebastian comes.
Chapter 5
The fae queen asks for help
“Please forgive our intrusion. This is Arella, our queen.” Dorn bowed as he spoke, but I couldn’t tell if he was bowing to me or to her with the way his body was angled.
“And this is Finn. Finn, Dorn.” I turned my attention to the woman. “I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Roxanne.” I held out my hand.
The woman stared at my outstretched hand for a long moment before looking at Dorn. When he inclined his head, she reached out her own hand, barely touching mine before withdrawing it and pulling it behind her.
I waited to see if she could or would speak for herself. When she said nothing, I motioned toward the table Finn and I had just come from. “Please, join us. I’ll have Gloria bring out something to drink. Would you like coffee or tea? Juice perhaps?”
Nervously, I thought, Arella looked back up at Dorn, who towered over her petite form. He gestured for her to follow us as I turned and strode—confidently, I hoped—back to the table and sat down. Finn settled to stand on the table beside me, leaving the area across from me clear.
“Arella will have juice. Orange, if you have it. I need nothing, thank you.” Dorn’s heavy accent sounded a bit more clipped than it had this morning, and I wondered why he was speaking for the woman at his
