Page 3 of Fae Tithe

Eleanor swallowed. “I am sorry I won’t be home when he arrives…” She felt tears prick her eyes. “I have really missed him.”

“Don’t worry, I have been thinking about that. We will come to the Equinox Festival in the city. I want to sell some nice pearls I have been saving and there are others due for harvest too. We will all come and visit you at school,” Helena said reassuringly.

“Thanks, Mum. I would really like that.” Eleanor smiled. Her shoulders loosened as the tight knot in her chest unravelled. A slow breath eased out of her and the tension in her grip softened on the reins.

“Maybe this year you won’t take over a month to write me a letter,” Helena teased.

“Okay, I’ll try. I am just really busy when I am there,” she replied with a dismissive tone.

“Uh-huh.” Helena raised a dark eyebrow but did not push the issue further.

The two rode in a companionable silence after that. The new spring sun was hot on their necks as they passed through two bustling villages. The landscape they traversed was a vibrant emerald. Wildflowers in a rainbow of colours dotted the green carpet like stars sprinkled in the night sky.

As her eyes traced the patterns of the landscape of the island, Eleanor’s thoughts drifted towards school and what the year could bring. She had been teased in the past by some of the girls for her ability to recite facts and her love of learning. She just never quite fit in.

It’s not my fault I think differently.

Eleanor could remember information easily and often found she could recognise patterns and link information before others. Her mother had said more than once that her unique outlook could change Seelieland if that was what she chose to do.

Besides doing well at school this year, I just hope I make a proper friend.

Eventually, the group reached the causeway. Eleanor had learnt in history class that the causeways between the Clusters and the coast of Seelieland were a generous gift from the ruling Seelie Court to the – mainly human – peasants that lived on them. The footfalls of the pony’s hooves changed distinctly as they trudged from pressed earth road to the stone of the massive causeway. Despite the earliness of the day, the bridge was already bustling with life. Eleanor watched the people, both faerie and human, move with purpose in both directions, each on their own missions for the day.

After crossing the causeway, the city of Portson loomed tall on the horizon. Eleanor could hear and smell the city before she could make out more than a roughly shaped limestone behemoth. The provincial Capital sat proudly on the estuary of Sol River as though it knew it was an important centre for shipping and trade. On her weekends at the school, Eleanor loved nothing more than to go to the port and watch the grand merchant ships. They were resplendent with mahogany hulls and white sails, travelling back and forth with goods to trade.

She looked out to the ocean and spotted one. One day, I’ll be on one of those and see the world. Her eyes traced the dark wood and billowing canvas stark against the blue, heading towards the horizon.

Eleanor waited impatiently, hopping from foot to foot. She was keen to get to school as Helena lodged Bun and Ash at the common stables at the entrance to the city.

I can’t wait to get unpacked. I wonder if I will get a new roommate. Anyone would be better than Jessia. Eleanor’s lip curled in disgust at the thought of her roommate the previous year.

The teenage girl had pretended to be her friend so that Eleanor would help her get better grades. Then, once Jessia had achieved her goal, she proceeded to either tease or ignore Eleanor for the rest of the year.

She turned her attention back to her mother. Helena had opted to lock Biscuit in with the ponies. Eleanor understood why. The city streets were typically not safe for dogs, bustling and busy, the teenager had seen more than one street animal run over by a rushing carriage. They each shouldered a bag and began the winding trudge to Portson Finishing School for Girls.

The city streets bustled with humans and faeries of all kinds. Seagulls squawked overhead, accenting the limestone buildings and oil-lamp posts as they perched their fat gleaming bodies and snapped bright red beaks. Eleanor dodged a shop door as it flew open. A faerie with a dog nose and paw-like hands held a broom to sweep out the dust from the entrance.

It’s like the city is waking up, Eleanor mused.

Shutters flew open as they navigated the city. Vendors pushed their wooden wheeled carts up and down the sides of the sandstone cobbled streets. Heavy horses clomped down the centre of the lanes, hauling crates unloaded from the merchant ships of the port.

The mother and daughter worked their way through the crowded, hovelled outer lanes until they reached the quiet, clean streets of middle-class Portson. The terraced houses featured neat little gardens, peppered with flowers and sparkling whitewashed walls, difficult to keep clean in a city that suffered often from salt-stained fog.

The mother and daughter finally arrived at the iron gates of the school. Both were sweaty, dirty, and slightly sunburnt on their faces from their long ride. A gruff gatekeeper stood at the entrance of the school grounds, blocking their entry as he ran his eyes over their paperwork.

Eleanor felt the tension rising in her shoulders. She eyed her mother as Helena clenched her jaw. I have been coming here for five years. They still act like I don’t belong. No wonder Mum is so pissed off. Eleanor instinctively laid a hand on her mother’s arm.

“Well. I suppose this all seems… fine.” The gatekeeper finally relented, nodding the mother and daughter into the grounds.

Helena took the papers from the gatekeeper’s grubby hand. “Thank you,” she said curtly through clenched teeth. “Let’s go, El.”

Eleanor shouldered her bag and linked her arm through her mother’s. They headed up the neat gravel path, the pebbles scrunching beneath their boots, making their way to a grand limestone building with a polished wrap-around veranda of mosaiced tiles. Helena knocked on the dignified wooden door. It creaked open and the mother and daughter were met by a prim teacher in a neat uniform. The young woman gave the impression of a proper Portson lady in her long skirt and button down. There was, however, a warmth to the teacher’s brown eyes when she laid them on Eleanor.

“Oh! El!” she said excitedly. “Please come in. Your room is all ready for you.”

The young woman stood back, widening the door and ushering them inside, before being called away by another parent and child pair.

“Thanks, Miss Taylor!” Eleanor called after the teacher.