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And, since I was out there already, and determined not to spend any more days hiding in my tent, I marched myself over to the pillow factory.
There was Larch, his buddies and the girls, busily working and chirping away. Ants to my grasshopper. They all glanced up, surprise on their pixie or gnarled faces alike.
I didn’t see Dragonfly.
“My lady.” Larch bowed to me. “We thought you had left.”
“Off with Rogue, you thought?” I asked archly.
He bowed again.
“No.” I took a breath to say something more. Blew it out again.
“I’d like to see the tribute tent, Larch, and—seeing as how Rogue is gone and I’m still here—I’m keeping my word. You want to set me up for self-defense lessons for this afternoon?”
I wouldn’t let myself think about how muchthoselessons would probably suck. Instead of gritty Hilary Swank, I’d be girly Sarah Jessica Parker—okay, size 8 to her size 2—facing an impossibly long and steely fae version of Clint Eastwood. But Rogue’s accusation had hit home. I was not doing a good job of taking care of myself. Or the people dependent on me. That, at least, I could control. An idea hit me.
“I’d like to learn from other people like me—are some nearby?”
“Yes, my lady. I know of an excellent human fighting teacher.”
Excellent—two birds with one stone.
“Where is Dragonfly?”
“We thought she’d gone with you, my lady.”
Oh, I knew who she’d gone with all right.
“Well, may he have joy of her,” I muttered. “And that reminds me—I kind of melted your knife. Maybe there’s one in the tribute tent you could have to replace it?”
“Yes, my lady sorceress.”
Gotta love a place where you could admit you melted a knife and no one blinked.
I followed Larch to another tent, this one with the sides all securely tied down. A couple of gnomey guys bobbed and bowed at me, nimble fingers undoing the knots on the tent flaps. They helpfully slapped some pillows into life, setting them in strategic spots so the dim interior was illuminated. Darling slunk through and immediately disappeared down a narrow aisle.
“Wow,” I breathed. “All this from less than a week?”
The place was crammed full, items stacked in uncanny towers that defied gravity. Immediately by the door something that looked very like a Persian Empire hookah worked in brass and burgundy velvet teetered atop a pile of fabrics interspersed with carved wooden pieces and a bit of yellow poking out that I would have identified as a rubber ducky, if that weren’t so completely out of context. And that was just the near tower.
I edged farther into the tent, careful not to upset any stacks. What appeared to be a copper fire pit lurked in the corner filled with jeweled pear-shaped objects.
“This is all in exchange for pillows?”
“Well, and tribute, of course, to curry favor with you.”
That sounded promising. Surely I could use that somehow.
“Was my lady sorceress looking for anything in particular?”
“I need a basin. Can we empty the jeweled pears of that copper fire pit thing? And I need a blank book, if there is one.”
“A book?”
“You know, pages inside a binder, something I can write notes on.”
Larch cocked his head at me.
