Page 55 of Faerie Fate
“Apparently you are,” I said dryly. “And Laina is…she’s great. She’s a really good person.”
Mike shot me an appreciative sideways glance at the compliment. “If what you’re saying is true, then yeah, you’re going to have a daughter. My mom is a fantastic woman, a powerful witch, and a good ruler. She’ll do you proud.”
Poppy shook her head and lifted her arms to her sides. “I mean, anything I pop out is bound to be powerful. That’s a given. But I have no intention of marrying. I’ve never wanted to be a mother.” Her smile was feral. “It’s not in my plan. A baby certainly wouldn’t fit into my life.”
She shouldn’t trust the man she would marry, either, from what Barbara had told me. From the shitty things Barbara said about the dude, he was nothing but a worthless sack of shit who would inevitably break her heart and tear their family apart.
But…if I told Poppy that, Laina would never be born. And then Mike would never be born. So I had to keep my mouth shut.
I certainly didn’t need Mike’s silencing glances to tell me not to speak up. My head spun for a completely different reason this time. I’d never been good at figuring out the time travel stuff. The repercussions, the consequences—those were always beyond me and one of the reasons why I never liked watching those kinds of movies.
Now I was trapped in the middle of one and the stakes were life and death.
For a long moment, the four of us sat in silence, glancing at one another, everyone at a loss. What did we do now? Where did we go from here?
I picked at the pieces of dried salve around my neck until the rest of the pieces began to flake off, the color of honeycomb.
“Look,” Poppy finally said, “I’m a busy woman. I can’t stick around for long.”
And she certainly wouldn’t want to slum around with her grandson and his friends from the future. Not when too much time spent together might have devastating effects.
I reached across the table and grabbed one of the last strawberries from Bronwen’s bowl. She’d eaten almost all the fruit as she listened, her attention bouncing back and forth faster than a streak at Wimbledon. She’d taken all of this in stride, having been on the outskirts of too many different conversations to count. In fact, this was one of the most complete recaps we’d had so far.
Noren curled at my feet, his head on my lap and no doubt keeping tabs on Poppy through our conversation.
“So.” I broke through the tense silence, “will you help me unlock my powers? Then we’ll be out of your hair.”
I’d told her everything about Livvy and the journal, the spell my mother got from the goddess Faerie herself, and what it was supposed to do for me. How the spell had failed.
Poppy drummed her fingers against the table and stared over my head. Whatever she saw in the distance, I wasn’t sure I wanted to know.
“I’ll have to commune with the energies around us to figure out if this is what I’m meant to do,” she said at last. “The gods have plans and we mortals must listen.”
“The gods?” Bronwen asked as she sat up straighter. “More than one?”
I nibbled at a strawberry. “I thought Faerie was the only goddess in the game.”
Was Poppy seriously saying that there were more gods and goddesses out there? Real ones? I pressed a hand to my stomach when it began to catch. Too much. It was all too much for me.
Rather than answer, Poppy abruptly pushed up from her chair and sent it careening against the cabinets at her back. “Make yourselves at home.” It was a non-answer to our question. “Get some rest.”
Before any of us had a chance to ask heranything, she disappeared into her spell room and closed the door, snapping the lock. Cutting us off and sequestering herself.
Bronwen waited about ten seconds before she erupted, her hair bristling around her round face. Her freckles stood out to attention as she chewed on her lower lip. “Am I the only one who thinks this whole communing with the gods thing is complete crap? I mean, come on! Poppy has all the info she needs to make a decision and this is just a delay we don’t need.”
Bronwen widened her eyes at Mike, head slightly tilted, waiting for him to agree with her. Since he was the one in charge of the time manipulation.
Honestly, I felt the same. Poppy’s “communing” felt like a tactic to get us off her back.
The longer we spent in the past, the harder it would be to not change things. And having gotten an up close and personal look at Poppy’s magic stock, I was inclined to agree with Bronwen.
What was the witch waiting for?
Why wouldn’t she help?
Especially if we were going to leave and head back to the future? It wasn’t like we’d be underfoot any longer than necessary.
“We’re not actually losing time while we’re here,” Mike reminded Bronwen gently. “We’ll return to the exact moment when we left.”
