Page 67 of My Faire Lady

The sprite’s lips curl into a smile, and I cringe at the row of razor-tipped teeth that surface from his mouth.

“And I’m sorry for tripping you with that tree root. Scarlet gave me quite the talking to afterward.” He floats forward and perches on Lottie’s shoulder. “You don’t have magic, but can we see what happens when you get close to those who are sick?”

Lottie raises a brow my way.

I tilt my chin toward the row of sprites. “Go ahead.”

Dryden on her shoulder, she turns toward the miniature cots. Sprites flutter through the air and swirl around Lottie’s head, pulling her curls just to watch them bounce back. She laughs, and it’s like a wind chime, wiping away the fear coating the room.

In the far corner, Boden leans against the wall, and as our eyes meet, he lifts a brow. I wait for him to scold me, or tell me it’s too soon to bring her here.

But his eyes crinkle at the edges. “Shadow let Lottie ride her?”

Warmth creeps into my cheeks. “There was a bribe, but⁠—”

“That beast has let approximately one other being ride her—you. Lottie is special.”

“Yeah,” I say, watching as she kneels to the ground before a cot. “She really is.”

Leaving her to speak with the sprites, I cross to the back wall and join Boden. “How’s Glen doing?”

“Same as the last time you asked.” He shrugs. “I can’t seem to figure it out. When Lottie is gone, the magic drains. You’d think that when she’s here, it would reverse, the magic refilling. But that’s not the case. She just keeps it stable.”

Near the entrance, Lottie gently scoops a sprite into her cupped palms. She closes her eyes, presses her lips together, and a crease forms between her brows. Moments later, she blinks her eyes open and her chest deflates as she sets the creature down.

“I know,” I say, crossing my arms. “It must have something to do with the way she affects the land, or⁠—”

“The way she affects you.”

I chew on the inside of my cheek. I had considered it, of course. But Murrell witches never needed help maintaining the consecrated land.

I shake my head. “That would be too easy. There has to be something else, something I’m completely overlooking.”

Lottie stands and pads down the row of cots, offering whispered condolences. Her steps falter as she comes to Glen’s bed. Frankie rises from a stool at the head and wraps her in a hug.

“You know,” Boden starts, lowering his voice, “both of the choices you gave her end with her leaving. You could give her a choice to stay.”

“Not an option.”

He hums and returns his attention to the room, eyelids heavy as he blinks. “Do you remember when I told you she was worried about everything?”

I nod.

“She’s a lot less worried when she’s with you.”

She couldn’t have heard him, but at his words, Lottie lifts her gaze from Glen, and our eyes lock. Tears cling to her eyelashes, but she doesn’t wipe them away.

“You slept on the couch last night?” Boden says, as if he hasn’t already plucked the answer from Lottie’s thoughts.

Frankie pulls Lottie’s attention away from me, and I nod. “Of course I did.”

His lip quirks. “She spent most of the night staring at the ceiling, hoping you’d walk in. Just so you know.”

My breath catches, but I clamp down on my pulse, grinding my molars until they ache. I should tell him to stay out of her mind, to respect her privacy.

But I don’t. I keep my mouth shut.

Because in the middle of the night I stood at the bedroom door, my hand raised to knock, but never rapped my knuckles against the wood.