“You know I would not turn to them if my back wasn’t against a wall.”
“I know, I know. I’ll see what I can do. Is there a way to get ahold of you?”
“Obviously where I’m staying isn’t much of a secret,” said Avery with a tight, dry smile.
“Do you not have a phone?” Esteri asked incredulously.
“Essi, I barely know what that word even means.”
Esteri huffed. “I have to get back to work.” She stood, brushing off her lap. As she did, faint glittering dust spilled onto the floor and vanished. She pointed an accusing finger at Avery. “Youshould get a phone.”
“I’ll be sure to put that on my tab at Hudson’s.” The sarcasm in Avery’s voice was so thick, Saga half expected it to fog the windows. “Do they come with sprinkles?”
31Tulikettu (Finnish, fire fox): Arctic foxes believed to have lit the northern lights from the fire of their tails brushing the sky. Capable of shifting their shape, these Archfey are one of the few outside the Aos Sí with an ability to travel between this and the Otherworld. If it is a time of electromagnetic activity, either the aurora or even a lightning storm, there is a chance a tulikettu is catching a ride across the great divide to the other realm.
32Hygge (HYOO-guh): There is no direct translation for this Danish word. It is the comfort and cozy feeling of being inside by the fire during a storm. It is relaxing and enjoying simple quiet pleasures together. While the word in its current meaning dates to 1800, its origins can be traced back to the middle ages.
33Though not fey in origin, there are some who would vehemently protest that most cafés are in fact attempting to imprison you. Many a writer has been trapped within a coffee shop, inexplicably unable to finish their manuscript, yet doomed to return each day to attempt with latte in hand.
34Gaeilge (Irish folklore): An obligation or prohibition magically imposed on a person.
35A Finnish proverb: Literally translated—“A name doesn’t make a man worse if the man doesn’t make the name worse.”
A person is judged by their actions alone, not their name.
Chapter 11
Avery
221 B Baker Street, formerly a glorified attic, was pleasantly cozy and illuminated by candlelight. It was, as the flat below it, fully wired for electricity, but one needed electronic devices in order to utilize that modern feature. As Avery’s abode had been filled with a collection of objects from her own lifetime, the newest of them was nearly fifty years older than the light bulb’s invention.
She had made a promise to herself that an electric lamp would be among her first purchases upon payment. Not really for its convenience, but for the miraculous achievement it stood for. Her only experience with electric light prior to this modern age had been glimpses of its potential through increasingly fascinating lectures at the Royal Institution by an exceptionally brilliant young human by the name of Humphry Davy.
She’d sat through more than one of his demonstrations, mesmerized by the ingenuity of human curiosity and the cultivation of its own magic: science. It was a magic that did not depend on drawing energies from the Otherworld but used the properties and mysteries of this one.
The “arc lamp” as he had called it in its first inception, had been a series of batteries, electrodes, and charcoal—nothing you’d trust the average person to have in their home. If they’d been able to set it up and work it, it would have been impossible to leave it unattended. Even in the homes of London’s most brilliant minds, it would have been a dangerous fire risk.
Yet now? In less than a week’s time, Avery had seen electric light utilized everywhere she went. Safely contained within glass, in multiple shapes andsizes, lighting homes, businesses—even the train! It was so exciting she’d allowed herself a daydream of having one of these lamps as her own.
