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A wink. Not a blade. Perhaps the knight and the rest of the princess’s guard had been rooting for him this entire time without Archie’s full notice.
And Sir Callum and the princess had just shown him a faerie ring. There had to be a way to voice a few of his worries without giving it all away.
“I was just wondering . . . Tricky things can happen in the forest, and . . . well, have you ever seen a faerie, sir? Beyond the imps or gnomes or other small creatures you might see around the town?”
The knight shook his head. “No, and you won’t either as long as you keep your wits about you.”
It might be a bit too late for that. Leo was still sitting by the deer, grooming himself nonchalantly. Archie tried not to look at him as he formed his next question. “But if I did meet a faerie . . . would it have to be evil? Couldn’t it also be good and use its magic to bless us if it wished to?” There seemed to be at least a few stories where that was the case, and even the gnome he had met hadn’t seemed that bad for a garden pest.
The knight raised an eyebrow. “And what would motivate a fae or any other creature born of magic and chaos to do good? They are creatures unlike us, and they have their own reasons for doing what they do. And by the time you discover all their secrets, it might already be too late. Even something that seems like a blessing often leads to great evil by its end.”
Archie nodded, having far too many thoughts at once.
He had been watching Leo for years, and though it seemed clear that the cat used magic—and could perhaps even be called a faerie—Leo never seemed dangerous. He helped with the plague rats, and even the more mischievous traps he set seemed almost reasonable—something that had been clearly provoked and equally measured. Something Archie had thought he could manage so long as he did his best to stay in the cat’s good graces.
Archie had never considered the idea that the cat could truly curse anyone, but perhaps he should have? Those sorts of legends were just as numerous as the ones with helpful magical creatures, and they had to come from somewhere.
Archie had made a bargain for Leo’s help. And Archie had sincerely meant it. But the more time he spent with the cat, the more he wondered what he could possibly give Leo that would be equal to what he had received. The cat hunted his own food. He shunned Archie’s attempts at affection—anything a more natural animal might have wanted. What did that leave them except for some horrible and magical consequence Archie would never see coming?
In Archie’s silence, the knight ended his thoughts with a final shrug. “Magic . . . It just doesn’t fit inside our world, and some say a man can’t touch a bit of it without being corrupted by its influence. It goes against the order and light that has allowed peace throughout our kingdom and rarely happens without consequence. Best leave it alone.”
It certainly sounded like something Archie’s father would say. It might even be something any proper matron or holy oracle would say. Archie had always been different. He had always longed for at least a spark of magic and chaos, something to give purpose and color to his much-too-ordinary life, but perhaps he still should have been more cautious.
Perhaps he had already taken on more than he could handle, even with just one magic cat.
Sir Callum had said the use of magic often brought unseen curses. Archie didn’t think Leo had intentionally cursed him—yet—but he already felt there must be some truth to the knight’s words. Magic seemed to cause just as much trouble as it solved.
Had he really shot the deer that bore his arrow? Did he really deserve the praise of the princess and the respect of the other men on the hunt?
Would every good thing he had gained disappear if he turned his back for too long?
The hunt went until the next evening—the evening before the festival—and though they never found anything resembling bandits, Archie didn’t think he had done anything to shame himself too badly. The king and some of the other men waved or nodded at him when it was done.
Ainsley smiled.
But when he finally reached the mill, both his brothers were sitting around the kitchen table waiting for him, along with the baker’s family. “There you are,” Rupert said. “I thought you might have forgotten.”
A fair assumption. Archie had forgotten completely.
Chapter 18
No Room to Swing a Cat
The dinner. Ellie and her parents. Yes, Archie had forgotten, and it seemed he had been so preoccupied he hadn’t noticed the change. Ellie wasn’t the name of the goose girl. She was the baker’s middle daughter—the baker’s only daughter since the plague had stolen the lives of both of her sisters. Before then, and even now, she was a soft-spoken, mouse-haired girl who easily blended into a crowd. Since when had Rupert shown any interest in her?
“Sorry,” Archie said, mostly because it seemed they were all waiting for him to say something, and he had no clue what else it could be. “What did I miss?”
The baker was the one to answer. It might not have been his house, but he was the eldest man there and had one of those booming voices that called attention to itself. “We were just getting started.” He gestured to the food on the table. “Your brothers say that you made the bread. It’s not bad. Have you ever considered baking as a profession?”
“No, sir.” Archie was still eyeing everyone at the table in turn. Rupert, Harris, the baker’s wife, and even sweet and round-faced Ellie were watching him with trepidation. Like he was something feral that might bolt or soil the non-existent carpet, and they were about to do something awful they thought would be for his own good.
“Well, perhaps you should,” the baker continued with a much too cheerful smile. “I was just telling your brother that I might need another apprentice, once my Ellie is married and gone.”
Archie didn’t answer, but it seemed he didn’t have to. Rupert was already answering for him. “That is rather generous of you, sir. Isn’t it, Archie? Baking is a good and stable profession.”
Baking? This was an ambush. His brother was going to trade him away to get the bride he wanted, and it seemed Archie only had one choice left. He turned on his heels and headed back through the door, almost tripping over Leo again. “Excuse me.”
“Archie?” Rupert called, following after him.
