R Anderson - Spell Hunter

“Oh, you mean how did they get down here?” He nodded toward the faeries gathered around the Queen. “I’m not quite sure myself. I’d just got the blanket around you, and when I looked up, there they were. All I know is that the dark-haired one said she’d stab my eye out if I didn’t take good care of you, and she looked so fierce that I’ve been on my best behavior ever since.” He gave a rueful grin. “After all, I’m not likely to outrun her.”

He spoke lightly, but Knife jolted upright, staring at him. Though his eyes smiled, his face was lined with strain, and he was using both hands for balance “Oh,” she whispered as her gaze traveled down his body. “Oh, no.”

“What’s the matter?” said Paul. “I didn’t break one, did I?” He pushed himself into a sitting position and reached down to straighten the legs lying slack upon the grass.

“No!” Knife clutched the blanket about her throat, sick with grief and guilt. “You don’t understand, Paul. This isn’t what I asked for.”

“Perhaps not,” said Queen Amaryllis feebly as Valerian helped her to her feet. “But as I have been so recently reminded, it is wrong to use magic on others against their will. I had your consent to become human. But he refused to let me make him whole.”

“But…” Knife turned to Paul in distress. “You could have had your legs back. Why?”

Paul reached out to touch her face. “Listen,” he said. “There’s a chance that one day the doctors will find a way to help me walk again.” He slid his hand behind her neck, drawing her toward him. “But where else will I find a faery who loves me enough to give me her name?”

“Not here, that’s for certain,” came an irritable voice from below. “And if you two start chewing on each other’s faces, someone’s going to get their eye poked out.”

Paul let go of Knife abruptly as Thorn glared up at them. “I suppose you think being a human is all very wonderful,” she said to Knife, “but this is a fine mess of hedgehog droppings if ever I saw one. Who’s going to drive off the crows now? And I suppose you expect me to do all your hunting, too?”

“Peace, Thorn,” said Amaryllis, leaning heavily on Valerian’s shoulder. “Those matters have already been addressed-and not even you will have reason to complain of the result.” She looked up at Knife. “You have been severely tested this night,” she said. “And I would not blame you if you hated me for it. Yet I could not have let you go with this young man were I not certain that you both understood not only love, but self-sacrifice.”

“We’re not the only ones,” said Knife. “You made a sacrifice, too. I can’t help you find the other faeries, not anymore-even if I could afford to leave the Oak unguarded that long, they’d never talk to a human. So what will you do?”

“Hope,” said Amaryllis. “Now that I have others to help me in my studies, perhaps they will make discoveries and see possibilities that I did not. Campion at least will be glad to assist me, I am sure…and perhaps in time, another will arise among us with the will and courage to make the journey.” Her eyes flickered to the sleeping Linden as she spoke. “We have that time, now.”

Knife nodded. Then, clutching the blanket about her shoulders, she leaned close to the Queen and whispered, “I forgive you.”

“My Hunter,” said Amaryllis just as softly, and her gaze touched Knife’s like a salute before she turned away. Valerian paused to give Knife a respectful nod, then hurried to help the Queen back to the Oak.

“Hmph,” Thorn said with a last wary glance at Paul, and moved to follow-but Knife held up her hand. “Wait,” she said, and the faery stopped, wings tensed for flight. “Come closer. Please. And Wink-you too.”

With obvious reluctance Thorn edged toward her, only to be nearly bowled off her feet by Wink, who rushed forward as though she had been waiting for the summons all along. “Oh, Knife,” she said, looking up at her with tear-bright eyes. “I’m going to miss you!”

“You won’t have to,” said Knife. “I’ll be seeing you and Linden-and the others, too-nearly every day. Ask the Queen, when you get back to the Oak; she’ll explain.”

“Speaking of explanations,” began Paul from behind her, but Knife shook her head. “Just a moment,” she told him. “I have one last thing to say to my friends.” Bending as near to Wink and Thorn as she dared, she said softly, “ Thank you. I promise you, I will never forget what you have done for me.”

Wink hiccupped and flung herself sobbing into Thorn’s arms, nearly squashing Linden in the process. Thorn rolled her eyes and thumped the Seamstress on the back, but it was clear that she, too, was touched. “Remember what I told you, human,” she said gruffly to Paul. “Take care of her-or you’ll answer to me.”

“I hear you,” said Paul. He laid his hands on Knife’s shoulders, and together they watched as the faeries made their way back across the darkened lawn. When they had vanished among the shadows of the Oak, he pulled Knife against him and put his lips to her ear. She closed her eyes, expecting a kiss, but heard instead:

“We have a problem. I haven’t the faintest idea what I’m going to tell my parents.”

“Oh, Great Gardener,” said Knife, twisting around to face him. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

“Yes, well, I wouldn’t have expected you to, with all the other things on your mind. But somehow I think introducing you at the breakfast table tomorrow is going to be awkward.” He looked down at her, and even in the fading moonlight she could see his color rise. “Particularly as you’ll be wearing my clothes.”

Knife brushed back the pale hair from his eyes, then leaned forward and kissed him. “I’m serious!” he objected, when she let him speak. “What am I supposed to say-‘I found her lying naked on the lawn at midnight, can I keep her?’” He stopped. “You’re shivering. Did I frighten you? Don’t worry, I’m sure it’ll be all right.”

“I’m just a little cold,” said Knife, pulling the blanket closer about her shoulders.

Paul wrapped his free arm around her. “It’s all right,” he said. “I’ve got you.”

“Yes,” said Knife, smiling up at him. “You have.”