Page 150 of The Exquisite Torment of Loving Your Enemy

“Because—because it’s impossible. We can’t have forever.”

“You’d rather have nothing than a little?”

“…Yes.”

“That’s stupid,” said the cricket. “You could die tomorrow. So could she. Make the most of the time you’ve got.”

The breeze blew over the hlutoform bottle at the window and filled the study. It smelled like Fairhrim was right behind him. Osric’s heart skipped a beat. His arms wished to embrace her; his eyes wished to behold her.

He rested his forehead on his hands. “I just want peace.”

“You won’t find it like this.”

The cricket was right. Fairhrim had lit something in him that he couldn’t put out. And now her deofol had come, and sparked it into greater hope.

Osric pulled out the heart-shaped pocket watch. He consulted it to see when the next full moon was.

Only to see.

Movement caught his eye. There was something in the narrow box of ink pen nibs on his desk. From it emerged, to his surprise, the cricket. He had never seen it before; it had always kept itself hidden and manifested as a disembodied voice with poor timing. It looked like an ordinary cricket, perhaps a bit larger.

“You’ve been living there the whole time?” asked Osric.

“You can’t see what’s in front of your very eyes,” said the cricket. “There’s a reason your Cost is what it is.”

“Aren’t you worried I’m going to kill you?” asked Osric.

“You can.” The cricket walked slowly across the desk towards Osric. “I’m very tired. I think I’m going to die soon.”

“Die?”

“Crickets don’t live very long.”

This made Osric, for some unaccountable reason, sad.

“Will you miss me?” asked the cricket.

“I’ve come to enjoy you upbraiding me.”

“You’ve learned a lot,” said the cricket. “You don’t need me anymore.”

“You’re wrong. I don’t know what to do. I can’t change what I am.”

“She knows what you are,” said the cricket. “Now, hush: I’m going back to sleep.”

It climbed stiffly back into the box of nibs.

Osric checked on the cricket the day after, and the day after that, but he never saw it or heard it again.

29

The Seventh Moon

Aurienne

Aurienne’s data for September’s Bédríp moon spoke of healings in fairy dwellings: groves and caves, fairy trees, fairy forts, fairy rings—all of which was in line with Widdershins’hidden abode.

She determined the Fairy Glen at the Isle of Skye would be her destination. In a strange twist, the Fairy Glen was the site of the Monafyll Stone’s original discovery. The Stone had been found by accident: a walker had sat on a rock and a bit of moss had slipped off. The walker noticed strange carvings in the rock. The local authority had been called in, followed by the village archaeologist, followed by runologists from the universities, followed by a horde of scholars from various disciplines, including, at one point, Professor Widdershins.