Mushrooms turn out to grow extremely well in Elsewhere.
Crocus isn’t the only new resident. Hummingbird claims to just be visiting, but she hasn’t really left. She returns to Summer once a month to take clothing commissions, claiming business has only improved now that her services are so scarce.
Folly spent some of Roland’s gilden hiring Pennyroyal as a temporary advisor. The fox fae has helped with organizing amenities and guest security. Plus the trial and error of learning what hospitality rules apply in Elsewhere. Eating under someone’s roof turns out to be fine. Plucking berries without permission is not.
Flirting with someone else’s lover isn’t forbidden, but Pennyroyal has mostly behaved himself in that regard too. He knows who’s paying him.
Visitors have become more frequent. Curious fae from Summer and the occasional very lost human. Hummingbird is even planning a solstice festival, which Folly is only slightly panicked about.
It’s an in-between place filling with in-between people, led by a fae-touched human and a wild fae. Folly doesn’t know who started calling him and Yarrow the Lords of Elsewhere, but the title seems to be sticking.
“Did Yarrow drink this?” Folly asks.
Crocus sighs. “He refused, the ungrateful wretch.”
Folly risks a sip. The concoction tastes surprisingly and deliciously of crisp green apples. “He’s missing out.”
“Be sure to tell him that.” Crocus winks, then waves over at her son. “I believe he’s ready.”
Returning the cup, Folly takes a deep breath. Joining Yarrow in the sunlight is the biggest decision of his life—and the easiest.
When Folly reaches them, Hummingbird jumps into the air. “Hold still!” she chirps. Her translucent wings carry her close enough to drop a crown of leaves on Folly’s head, matching Yarrow’s. “There. Now you’re ready.”
Folly adjusts the wreath. “Is this part of the ceremony?”
Hummingbird beams. “I just think it looks nice.”
“Both of you, get out of here.” Yarrow badly suppresses a grin. “This is private.”
Despite his grumbling, he holds still for Crocus to kiss his cheek. “Yes, yes, dear. Besides, Hummingbird shouldn’t watch you ruin that pretty silk shirt of Folly’s.”
“Mother,” Yarrow groans, as Hummingbird warns, “He’ll do no such thing!”
As Crocus and Hummingbird cheerfully squabble into the distance, Yarrow takes both Folly’s hands. Elsewhere hushes, all sound politely veering away. Nervousness sharpens Yarrow’s face, the sort of thing he might have hidden a year ago.
“So, Lord of Elsewhere,” Yarrow says. “Is all this what you expected?”
“No, Lord of Elsewhere. It’s so much better than I ever dreamed.” Folly grins upwards. “How exactly does this part work?”
After a searching glance, Yarrow’s nerves subside. He must find whatever reassurance he needs in Folly’s eyes. “This is fae magic, so I’ll do all the work. You just stand here looking gorgeous.”
Folly squirms under the praise. “I’ll do my best.”
“Also, I can’t pick the mark. We’ll get whatever fate decides.” Yarrow winks. “If you’re scared of a bad tattoo, this is your last chance to back out.”
“I’m not backing out,” Folly says firmly. “Besides, it won’t be bad. Not if it’s ours.”
Yarrow bends to press a feather-soft kiss to Folly’s forehead. Then, as fondness still tickles through Folly’s veins, he straightens up. His words are steady. “By the bones of my land and the sky in my veins, I pledge my fate to yours.”
To Folly’s fae-touched sight, magic rises from all directions. Colorless and every color. Enchanting light and shadow pour from the edges of reality, twining around them.
Yarrow closes his eyes in concentration, and the magic trembles. Softens. The light coalesces, and gentle heat surrounds their wrists—Folly’s left and Yarrow’s right.
The magic fades.
Yarrow turns their arms over to reveal the mark. Inside their wrists are matching images of a delicate white flower.
“A yarrow blossom,” Yarrow remarks with amusement. “That’s a little obvious.”
