Page 26 of Lord of the Hollow Court
“Don’t,” the plum faerie hissed, throwing a hand and the bucket it held in front of Rineke.
“Just one swipe,” Rineke pleaded, teeth showing. The points of them were too sharp for Katty’s comfort.
“Keep moving. We’ve too much work to do to waste time on the likes of him.” The plum faerie nudged Rineke again.
“Fine.” Rineke rolled her eyes. “We’ll start by clearing the debris. Hugo, can you search for the other door?” He nodded, flushing azure again, then darted into the yellow sunrise.
“What should I do?” Katty asked.
“Sweep.” The plum faerie laughed at that—and continued to. Rineke joined her quickly, their mirth taking on a hysterical note. Katty checked back over her shoulder. The fae man had disappeared down the hall.
While they laughed themselves silly, dashing tears from their eyes and doubling over, Katty did as she was told. She swept, and worried about home, and swept, and thought of her family, and swept. By the time their laughter softened, Katty felt tears on her cheeks that had naught to do with laughter.
As the fae fell into silence, she turned to hide her face from them. Now that she’d begun to weep, it was as if she could not stop.
Chapter Thirteen
Tale Teller
Over the last three days, Katty had learned much about the fae, and one overarching fact about the High Fae in particular.
They were disgusting.
With the debris from the outside walls and any tripping hazards cleared, Katty and Rineke’s new assignments took them outside, into brisk autumn air, where the vivid blue jays cawed and trilled and the black and white speckles of downy woodpeckers drew Katty’s eye from the riot of leafy colors—no easy feat, given the beauty of the Hollow Court’s autumn leaves. Despite the cool air, they held on to their branches, as vibrant as ever.
Katty had thought she’d be happy to be outside, to be free of the plaster dust she breathed in all day, coating her hands, her face, her hair and her lungs. The fae landscape was breathtaking, and a welcome change from the white-dusted Hall with its blood-dripping walls. Working outdoors was the best assignment she could hope for. Tending garden beds instead of shoveling building materials into too-small buckets, then carrying said buckets, would be like taking a pleasant afternoon tea.
It was also when she could best plot her escape.
Instead, she found herself up to her wrists in what was most politely described as “leavings” of the High Fae.
“Excrement,” Rineke said bluntly. “Loads and loads of sir-reverence. Those damned animals. How are we supposed to clean this in time for the apple harvest celebration? The tithers always take food and drink here in the gardens. The smell alone—ugh.”
Katty turned away, trying not to retch into the garden beds. She’d have to clean that up, too.
“Here,” Hugo said, returning from the house, his blue curls spilling bouncily from between his horns only to stick to his sweat-dampened forehead. He’d brought clean cloths for each of them to tie around their noses, as they had for the plaster dust. Katty knew they would be all but useless here. She took them anyway, offering the cat-eyed faerie a weak smile.
“If you need a break,” the plum faerie called Bibi offered, “I can finish up this bed.”
Katty stomped her foot, conscious of her already ruined slippers. Though they’d taken her through three days of hard labor already—her toes blistering, then weeping, so that she had to ask for new bandages each night—stepping into night soil from regal fairy tale creatures would spell the end of them. “Why do we have to do this anyway?” she complained.
“This part’s the subsistence garden,” Rineke said, her voice muffled by the cloth she’d just tied behind her head. “The manor relies on it to offset the tithes.”
Katty scoffed. “What did we do to get the worst job?”
“Don’t say that,” Bibi scolded. “They’ll make us clean the slime off the ballroom!”
“I’d rather do that, thank you,” Katty rejoined, tying her handkerchief. She took one look at the pile of dung amidst the damaged plants and had to yank down the cloth, running for the woods to vomit.
Once she had emptied her stomach, she looked up, hand pressed upon the geometric bark of a colorful oak. The woods lay before her, luminous and deep. How difficult would it be to find her way back to Sleepy Hollow? And if she did, where would she tell them she’d been for the past three days?
“Don’t do it,” Rineke said, her voice startlingly close to Katty’s ear. Katty hitched up a shoulder, barely stuffing down a surprised shout.
“Don’t do what?” she said, wiping her mouth with the back of a hand. Her lips were as red as the leaves, her face flushed from more than her labors.
“Don’t run.” Rineke’s arms were crossed. “Like I told you, you’ll try it, and you won’t like the results. Trying to skip out on a geas can have nasty consequences.”
Katty looked over her shoulder haughtily. “I’m not going to run.”
