Page 56 of Welcome to Fae Cafe

Kate dared a glance up at the new addition to their class, taking in the set of messy braids that reached down to Lily Baker’s waist, and the daring pale blue eyes that seemed ready to challenge anyone whose stare lingered a little too long. But as Lily Baker strutted down the aisle to the only open seat in the classroom, a book fell out of her bag. She stooped to scoop it up, but not before Kate saw the title:Folktales on Fridays.

A smile found Kate’s mouth. She put her attention back on the teacher at the front, thinking of her own copy ofFolktales on Fridayshiding on her bedroom bookshelf with its margins filled with scribbled notes, its folded down page corners, and the three bookmarks she kept to mark the passages she loved most.

It seemed Lily Baker liked to read.

Shouts rang from behind the portables at lunch hour recess. Kate only heard them after chasing a soccer ball that far. She paused when she picked up the ball, listening to the threats of high-pitched girls.

“What did you call me?” Sophia Cuthbert’s voice was unmistakeable.

“I said you’rescaredto face me yourself. You really had to bring a whole pack of girls to back you up?”

Kate rounded the corner of the portables in time to see Sophia grab Lily Baker by the braids and start shoving. The rest of Sophia’s pack moved; clawing, shrieking, and some too shaken to do anything but watch.

The ball grew heavy in Kate’s hands. And when she raised it—aiming right between Sophia Cuthbert’s gray eyes—she picked her side after all.

Sophia screamed as blood spurted from her nose. The soccer ball spun off, and all the girls turned toward Kate like a pack of wolves.

Lily Baker blinked at first. Then, she burst out laughing. “Are y…” she interrupted herself with a cackle. “Are youcrazy?” she shouted to Kate. “I wasn’t really going to…” she bent over, holding her stomach as she laughed so hard, she shook. “I wasn’t really going to hurt her; I was just talking smack!”

That was the day Kate went home with a bruise on her lip, a smile on her face, and a detention notice for her parents to sign. It was also the day she told her mother she wanted a sister.

19

Prince Cressica and The Thing That Happened

Seventeen Faeborn Years Ago

Cress wouldn’t let go of the sharp emerald-green branches even when his tiny faeborn hands stung. He climbed until the treetop teetered, and he released a giggle at the flutter in his stomach. There he gazed at the crystal skies of the Ever Corner of the North, smiling at the sky deities and the silk birds dancing in the heavens.

“Cressica!” his mother scolded as she emerged from their house of gold-spun straw. She repositioned the large pot balanced on her hip. “Come down from there, now!”

Cress began the descent, thinking of rice pancakes and warm lowbeast milk for breakfast. But he paused on the middle branch when a thundering rhythm brushed in from the trees. The branches shook beneath his fingers, and a gasp lifted from his mother below. Cress shoved a collection of silvery leaves out of the way to see what had arrived.

Standing before his mother’s small frame was a crossbeast. Cress’s six-year-old chest tightened as he took in twelve faeborn males on glittering reindeer emerging from the woods, too. They wore antler crowns that matched the beasts they rode.

“Peasant,” a sweet voice sang. Cress inched over the branch until he saw a woman sitting atop the crossbeast. Her long silver hair became wings in the wind, and her sharp nails looked ready to draw blood.

“Queene Levress.” The pot smashed to the ground as Cress’s mother dropped to a knee and lowered her eyes.

A smile curled on the Queene’s face. “You recognize me? Even all the way out here?”

“Of course, Your Majesty.”

“I’m impressed!” The woman on the crossbeast laughed. The sound made the hairs on Cress’s arms stand on end. He slid down a few more branches and peered through a crack between the tree’s limbs.

“Tell me your name,” the Queene demanded, and Cress’s mother flinched.

“My unhidden name is Glorya.”

“Not that one, you fool. Tell me yourrealname.”

His mother’s mouth moved, but no sound came out as the Queene’s crossbeast stepped closer. Dripping fangs came inches from his mother’s face, and Cress scrambled the rest of the way to the lowest branch. He crept to the end, trying not to shake the leaves as he came directly over the silver-haired Queene and her beast.

“Your name!” the Queene screamed, making the woods shudder and the grass turn to black ash in all directions. “I have all ten names memorized. Don’t make me recite them all.”

Cress’s mother released a whimper. “My real name is Elene Sidius Willow. But please, I’m not alone. I have a son—”

“Elene Sidius Willow,” the Queene chanted, and Cress watched his mother’s back stiffen. “My crossbeast is hungry. Feed it all the food you have.” Her wild smile returned. “And if my beast is still hungry when it’s finished, perhaps it will eat you, too.”

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