Midwinter

She spoke a greeting to them in a language unfamiliar to Mauritane's ears, waving shyly in their direction. When they were nearly upon her, she stepped down off of the rock and stood in the road. She spoke again, the same greeting. From here, Mauritane could see that the tips of her ears were badly injured; on either side of her head were tight-fitting bandages soaked through with blood, and the high points of the ears were missing entirely; they stopped well below the top of her head.

To Mauritane's surprise, Satterly started and rode forward, speaking in what appeared to be the same tongue. The girl laughed, said something back. The two of them held a brief, rapid conversation, smiling and pointing both at the other riders and down a narrow trail that angled from the main path into the woods.

"This is amazing," Satterly finally said, turning away from the girl. "She's human," he laughed. "And she's not alone. There's a settlement…"

Satterly was cut off by the sound of several resolute clicks that emanated from the brush.

"Don't move!" a voice bellowed in halting Common. Three human men stepped from the brush, dressed in a similar fashion as the girl, who now ran away giggling down the path. The men carried weapons of some kind, long metal tubes affixed to bases that resembled the wooden stocks of crossbows. "These weapons spit fire!" shouted one of the men, again in Common Fae. "So beware!" He was tall and lean, with a thin red beard and long hair tied back in a ponytail.

Satterly spoke out again in the human tongue. It was fast and incomprehensible, slurred syllables that ran into one another making each sentence sound like a single improbable word. The man responded with a lengthy tirade, pointing toward the Fae members of the party with a dark look on his face.

Satterly swallowed. He turned to Mauritane and said, "He says his name is Jim Broward, that we're all under arrest, and that you'd all better say your prayers."

the familiar

Hy Pezho was enjoying tea in his new accommodations when the second sprite arrived. The tiny creature buzzed in through the thick damask drapes, drawing a line of sunshine across the splayed antique Thule rugs on the wooden floor. Hy Pezho's sitting room looked out over the violet hangings of the Royal Complex. From where he sat waiting for the sprite, he surveyed one of the most desirable fore views in the entire city, second only, perhaps, to Mab's. It was a fine thing.

"A message I have," sang the sprite, when it was in speaking range. It continued singing, off key, "a message I have for Hy Pezho! For Hy Pezho- that's the person who gets this note! A message, a message, it's my job to deliver it. Hey, Hy Pezho, don't say no!" The sprite finished its song with a tiny flourish, landing on the huge oak table in front of Hy Pezho. A bowl of fruit sat on the table; the sprite did a back flip onto a pear and sat.

Hy Pezho looked around carefully, then leaned toward the sprite. "Speak," he said.

"This message is full of names and dates and things. I should probably have some of that tea to settle my little brain first."

Hy Pezho reached into a pocket in his tunic and pulled out the tiny dried body of the first sprite the Awakened One had sent. He tossed the remains on the table.

"Ay-yi-yi!" said the sprite. "Looks like she got on your bad side. What did she do?"

"She kept asking for things and wouldn't shut up."

The sprite bit its tiny lip. "So, just the message then?"

Hy Pezho nodded.

"This message is from the Awakened One. He says that he has confirmed that a meeting will take place between the one called Mauritane and a Seelie Guard called Kallmer in the Rye Grove of Sylvan. Highsun. Fourth Stag. He doesn't know yet what the purpose of the meeting is, nor does Mauritane. He does say that interesting secrets will be revealed about the cuteness of sprites!" The sprite winced. "That last bit may have been a tiny embellishment on my part."

"Is that all?"

The sprite looked uncomfortably at the corpse of its former colleague. "Yep. Gotta run!" It took off backward and flitted out the window before Hy Pezho could catch it.

"Bacamar," said Hy Pezho. "Where are you?"

The familiar descended through the overhead canopy. "I was bathing in the sunlight above, master. Do you have need of me?"

"The prison guard suicide has given us what we need. They're meeting one of the Seelie Guard in Sylvan on Fourth Stag."

"The Seelie Queen leads a merry chase," said Bacamar, her lithe tongue extending and receding. "One presumes that a fascinating business will take place on that day."

Hy Pezho nodded absently. "I suppose," he said. "I don't really care, to be honest."

"Nor I," said Bacamar. She glided down to the floor and curled at Hy Pezho's feet. "Master?" she said quietly

"Yes, Bacamar?"

"I do not wish to pester you with my own small wants, but I am eager to be with you in the flesh. Are you not as eager as I?"

"I am," said Hy Pezho.