Page 26 of The Hunger
My gaze went to the infant, and I started to tear up.
“For now.”
“What’s going on? Are you in trouble?”
“No. But the brownies are. They’re selling their wings and their children’s wings because that’s all they have for currency in order to survive. Humans aren’t the only mistreated species in Uttira, Megan. Are you serious about righting wrongs?”
“I am.”
“Then, we need to right this, Megan.”
“Okay. We will. Since Adira is avoiding me, I’ll speak with Oanen’s dad. What do the brownies need?”
“A chance to provide for themselves and for the Council to ensure none of their children go hungry, just like they ensure the wellbeing of all the other young in Uttira.”
“On it. Do you want me to come out there?”
“Not unless you have bushels of fresh fruits and vegetables.”
“We don’t need your handouts,” Dewy yelled, having shaken her hand-muzzle.
“You’d rather sell your kid’s wings than take help? You’re ridiculous.”
That was the wrong thing to say. Her rage flared and fueled her strength, and she broke free of her captors. Instead of flying toward me, she raced toward Piepen. His eyes widened. Clutching the baby, he turned and fled into the reeds.
“You cheating flit! Get back here with my child!”
The visible brownies scattered. And just like that, I was alone in the parking lot with Merri fluttering near my head.
“Don’t worry. Piepen will keep Piewhistle safe.”
“Merri!” Dewy yelled shrilly. “Help me find him.”
Merri gave me a small smile before yelling, “He’s this way,” and zipping in the opposite direction of Piepen’s retreat.
The reeds went crazy with bird calls after that.
“Piewhistle? Sounds like you have your hands full there,” Megan said.
“You have no idea.” I started walking toward the car. “I want to keep the baby safe, but there’s just so much I’m fighting against. The brownies will continue to sell their own and each other’s wings until we give them a real means to provide for themselves.”
“I thought they took care of houses, like Elbner.”
“No. The goblins have some kind of magical knack for home repair that the brownies lack. And given a brownie’s lusty appetites, they’re not fun to have around. You should see what Piepen and Wetwhistle did to Oanen’s favorite couch. Come to think of it, when you visit the Quills’, stick to the family rooms. I’m not sure if Mrs. Quill had his room or our rec room deep cleaned yet.”
“I don’t even want to know how two brownies ruined that much space.”
“No,” I agreed. “You don’t. When do you think you’ll talk to the Quills?”
I started the engine and transferred the call to hands-free.
“Oanen and I are already in the car on the way to his parents. After chasing you out this morning, we want to apologize. Plus, I want to know what the Council is doing about the banshee singing and its progress on finding Ashlyn. I’ll add brownie mistreatment to the list. I really need to learn more about all the species here. If brownies are being neglected, what other species are suffering in silence?”
“Probably more than we think. Mr. Quill is a good one to talk to first. Don’t forget that he’s a griffin and his instincts are to protect. With Adira avoiding you, you might actually make headway.”
“Oanen wants to know if you’ll be home soon. I think he wants a family lunch.”
“I don’t think so.”
