Page 24 of Fae Tithe

“So many more,” Helena replied. Always more, I must make sure we have enough. Enough to make sure everyone is taken care of. She leant her head on his shoulder. Her neck ached from leaning over the intricate work for such a long amount of time. She glanced down at the freshly inoculated oysters in the overflowing bucket. “Tomorrow.”

Lance knew humans did not have magic of their own, but every time he smelt Rose’s cooking, he questioned whether that was true.

“Good timing!” Rose turned and beamed at Helena and the Merman as they stepped through the kitchen door, both washed and fresh from a well water shower after working at the beach for most of the day. Her long hair was tied on the top of her head and secured with a braided ribbon, thick strands escaping at the back her neck, and there was a smear of flour on her cheek. “The brisket has been resting for a while – a present from Willow – and the buns are ready, here,” she said, gesturing to the iron tray covered by a cotton rag on the bench next to her.

Lance’s gaze followed her hand. His mouth watered at the scent, and he licked his lips in anticipation of the meal.

“Let’s eat!” Rose took a deep breath and yelled, “MAX! ZAC!”

Lance recoiled at the noise, which felt like a needle to his ears. His hearing was more sensitive than a human’s, and her shout made his ears ring. He was not going to complain though – the food smelt amazing, and his mouth watered as he breathed it in.

He watched Helena plop down at the wooden table, placing the bowl of twenty pearls next to her. She had dark circles of exhaustion bagging her eyes, and she rubbed the back of her neck with the knuckle of her fist.

I understand. My neck hurts from leaning over so long, too. She works too hard... I don’t know how she does it when I’m not here. He swallowed, guilt prickling him at the duty that kept him away.

“Grab this, Fish Boy,” Rose ordered, snapping him from his thoughts. She handed the tray of warm dinner rolls to him, and he placed them on the table. She then tried to heft the brisket to him.

“Let me, Red.” He took a step towards the stove and lifted the heavy iron tray overflowing with beef. He placed it next to the buns on the table, mouth still watering.

“Thanks.” She turned and faced the hallway, tapping her foot. “Where are they?” she grunted. Rose unwound her apron from her waist and charged off in search of her errant sons.

Lance pulled out a chair. It creaked as he lowered his long frame onto it and sat next to Helena. Biscuit, who had been lounging beneath the kitchen table, shifted his chunky body to lie directly onto the Merman’s bare feet. The dog’s wiry fur scratched at his toes as he panted and rested his head back onto the cool tiles.

Helena was still knuckling the back of her neck, and her spectacles had slipped down her nose. While they waited for Rose to return with the twins, Lance reached out and laid a hand on the aching part of her neck, sore from being arched too long during the pearl harvest. A bright blue glow emanated from where his palm touched her skin.

“Thank you. That feels much better,” Helena sighed.

Lance reached around to the back of his own neck, pressing his fingers into the knot at the base. He felt a flush of magic leave his fingers and let out a huff of relief as the ache dissipated.

“Tomorrow, tell me which grids need to be collected. I’ll go out and bring the oysters back to you. I’ll do it in batches. That way, you can start harvesting and seeding while I bring them in and take them back,” Lance offered, desperate to lighten the physical load for Helena.

He expected her to argue, as she had in past, so surprise surged through him when she dipped her head in agreement.

“Okay, I will let you know what areas. We can get it done a lot more quickly that way. Plus, then I get to see that tail working hard for me.” She waggled her eyebrows at him suggestively.

“Tides-damn, Len. And you call me a flirt?” He chuckled.

“Yes, because you are, shamelessly so.” She pushed up her spectacles and grinned down the hallway.

Lance’s eyes followed her gaze, and he snorted as he saw Rose shepherding her sons to the kitchen table, a scowl on her face.

“They thought it would be funny to hide under my bed,” she huffed as they sat down on either side of her, faces downcast. “Just missing El, aren’t we? It will be good in Portson in a couple of weeks, when we are all back together again.”

Eleanor wore a silken gown in a walled courtyard full of roses. The sickly, sweet scent filled her nostrils, turning her stomach. Her gaze scanned the enclosure. Silent Manor Guards stood obscured amongst the shadows of the towering brambles. They were inconspicuous, but she still felt the burn of their eyes. Other human girls were also dressed in pastel dresses and spread throughout the area. They would not make eye contact with Eleanor, and when she tried to start a conversation, they would lower and shake their heads.

I’m a bird in a gilded cage. She scowled to herself, pulling angrily at the stitches of her attempt at embroidery in her hands. First, they tell me I’m a guest, and then they lock me in a bedroom for two nights.

The small room she had been kept in was the most luxurious she had ever experienced. Once she had awoken from her nap in the armchair, the bump on her head still aching, she had explored the room thoroughly. The bed was plush, covered in a goose down quilt, and the carpet was velvet beneath her feet. The room was cast in a cosy glow with a floating, illuminating orb. Despite herself, she was amazed by the adjoining bathroom, featuring a carved stone bath and toilet. Eleanor had noted there was no other door, concluding it was just for her to use. She had come out of the ensuite, washed, with a towel wrapped around her. Eleanor had found her saddlebags gone. A dress, silk slippers, and a faerie had taken their place.

I don’t understand. She glanced down at her wrist, where the red welt from the manacle had formed, but was now smooth and pink. That faerie, they sent her in to use her magic to heal me, but they took my things and made me wear this Faedamn dress! It also had not escaped Eleanor’s notice that the faerie had her wings clipped. I saw that silver bracelet on her wrist, too. It looked a bit like the manacle the captain made me wear. Does it control her? Is it keeping her here? I haven’t seen her type of faerie before.

Eleanor shifted uncomfortably in her seat, stomach turning as she thought of the ruined purple wings, hands tangled in her embroidery. The silk dress that clung to her screamed against her skin, setting it on fire with irritation. It was the finest thing she had ever worn, but it was stifling. Eleanor longed for the linen shorts and cotton shirts of her summers. She even missed her school uniform.

Two of Eleanor’s fellow captives at the Tithe Manor sat at her wrought iron table in the courtyard. They were also fussing with stitches and needles, refusing to meet her eyes. At the opposite table sat three other girls, crocheting. Another pair of teenage girls sat at a separate table at the far end of the courtyard, a golden vase between them, as they arranged roses plucked from the brambles. All of them were eerily silent. The lack of noise sent a jolt of unease up Eleanor’s spine. They were all human and young, like her.

I fucking hate embroidery, Eleanor screamed in her head.

The girls around her had been taken from the courtyard one by one to be interviewed. Each were returned to the group shivering and pale. Two had been brought back with terrified faces and rubbing their red, swollen hands. Then one had not been returned at all.