AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I need supplies. Actual clothes, shoes—well, boots, preferably—and a coat, given how chilly it is when twilight fades to darkness.
I’ll need some food, too; since coming here, I’ve been hungrier than usual for some reason. I can’t get away from that asshole only to die of starvation.
I’ll get supplies, and then I’m out of here.But some day, I’ll come back and get my revenge, one exquisite pound of flesh at a time.
I daydream about how, and where to extract that flesh from while the maids lead me to one of the tents, somewhat humble compared to some of the grand canopies of rich velvets and expansive size. Yet this abode is still infinitely larger than anything Rachel and my parents would have taken for camping. It might even be larger than myapartment. When we enter, I see it is sectioned into severalrooms.
The maids take me to a makeshift bathroom, with a small basin of cold water.
As they start to fuss over me, cleaning me and painting my face, it occurs to me that I know neither of their names. Nor do they know mine.
"I'm Darina," I introduce myself politely. "You?"
The women—fairies—exchange a confused glance. The shorter, curvier one is the first to recover. "Flyn, my lady."
"I'm not a lady." I suddenly remember the last time I said that, just a few nights ago, and my lip wobbles.
It was back in Night Hall, before I methim. Before I was dragged away from everything I know.It was just Wednesday. What day is it now, Saturday? Maybe Friday. I have no idea. All I know is that it feels like a dozen years have passed since then. Back when I was safe, home, and I had no idea that bleaming fairies even existed.
"Pardon,my lady, but the term is appropriate for a companion of Sir Junis," Flyn insists, with a hesitant smile. "And this is Lurette. She doesn't talk."
I automatically switch to sign language.Nice to meet you.
Then I feel foolish, guessing there’s no way she’d understand me. But Lurette's wide blue eyes brighten, accentuating the contrast with her shiny, black skin.
You speak in silence,she signs.
I also talk out loud as I continue signing the familiar language, glad—if a little confused—it's the same across the worlds. "I met deaf students when I was an undergrad, so I learned."
"Undergrad?" Flyn repeats, confused.
Anger bubbles inside me again.
Of course she wouldn't know what that is. Women don't study here, where they're either maids or playthings—or in my case, both.
"An undergrad is a student who hasn't yet completed their bachelors.”
That seems to click; both of them nod.
“You’re a scholar, then,” says Flyn.
“I suppose I am. I studied music and joined an orchestra part time. I still go to school for my masters now, and I teach some classes. ASL has come in handy often."
ASL? Lurette signs.
I fingerspell out each word.American Sign Language. That's what we call the silent speech where I'm from.
We know of America, Lurette replies enthusiastically.I’ve been there as a child.
“So have I,” Flyn quips. “I’ll never forget the taste of cotton candy!”
They go to the human world?My eyes widen as I feel my jaw drop in shock.
Then I taste it, sweet and addictive.Hope.
"Do you know a way to get there?" I ask, forgetting to sign as I lean in, eager,desperate.
Lurette can either hear or read my lips, because she replies,We cannot show you. The master would not abide it. We would be punished.
