Silver Hollow (33 page)

“Aye, Master! Wisht, wisht!”

Amie found Emrys’ eye as the carriage came to a stop and the box lurched on its wheels. His eyes darted to her fingers, anxiously twisting her father’s ring in endless circles. Uncle had
yet to notice or mention the fact she possessed a ring rightfully
belonging
to the Lord of Wenderdowne. Lifting her chin
,
Amie dared him to say anything
,
but Emrys only smiled. The display of his roguish smirk transformed his altogether unremarkable face into a dangerously dark beauty. She couldn’t help giving in then and smiling back.

Henry leapt off onto the street with gusto, his old bravado returned and with a genuine smile he reached back in to usher Morcant first. She flashed a knowing grin at Amie and Emrys’s linked hands before stepping down. A transformation had overtaken the curly
-
haired Lady of Hogswillow manor, who seemed younger by the second. “Oh darling! This old place never changes, does it? Can you believe we were last here together an age ago? Holy
wicklewashers
, Henry, we were children in this place!” She giggled, clicking her black boots together while tugging on his elbow.

Henry laughed with her, nearly bouncing on the balls of his feet as he pointed out the street ahead of them. “Do you remember the time Drustan forced us into that awful goblin’s back alley shop?”

Morc
ant tilted her head back so far, her
honey curls threatened to tip over. How the tiny hat managed not to budge, Amie blamed magic. “Aye, Henry, what twisted hands he had! Did he not say he acquired those from a troll dealing gone wrong?”

“Aye
.
” Henry sighed morosely and said, “
’
Tis never wise to dally with trolls.”

“Oh
,
you silly toerag! You know what I mean!” Morcant tapped him on the chin with the end of her long black nail and Amie shivered.

Emrys didn’t help her off.
Amie
was an American woman, born and bred, and could manage herself, thank you very much. But he took her disgusted pause from the lower step to lean out of the carriage, balancing his weight by holding onto the doorframe. He spoke low into her ear, blowing aside the stray tendrils resting against her neck. “
Mushrattling
,
isn’t it, Jessamiene?”

“What?” Amie barked and crossed her arms over her chest as Morcant paused to stand on tiptoe and whisper to Henry. Amie waved away
Emrys’
touch when he offered to escort her closer to the shop.

“Iudicael, pretending to love a blood traitor like
her
.” He said it with so much disdain that Amie almost turned fully to see if his expression matched his words.

“I see whose side you’re on,” she said and gave into her impulse. A tall black wall of solid chest met her eyes. His gaze was dark as ever, though flashes of violet and silver lightning lit within their center as he bent over her.

“I’ll forever be on your side, love.”

“Jessamiene!” Henry called over to her. Amie jerked out of the haze her thoughts had fall
en
into. Stepping perhaps too quickly to meet her uncle and the Lady smiling at his arm, Amie tilted up her chin, gathering her wits. “Come,” Henry beckoned with a warm, albeit apologetic smile for her.

So he hasn’t forgotten about Lady Gold
-
Digger’s
human comments either.

“Well, this has been most
fantasmatic
, Henry, darling. But I have some
necessarily tedious business
off Gooseberry Street, aye?” She pulled against Henry’s arm, batting her eyelashes as if telling him she’d much rather remain with him.

Amie rolled her eyes and glanced back at Emrys to share a grimace.

The shop they stopped at was at the end of a less busy street, but their audience had followed at a distance. Watching on now, they murmured amongst themselves, trying to discover the reason for the Lord of Wenderdowne’s visit. Now they observed as Lady Hogswillow parted ways with the others, waving coyly as she took several steps back.

“Must you go so soon?” Amie asked her.

“Oh indeed, it cannot wait,” Morcant replied, clutching her hands to her heart. “But never fear, Rado has already been given all my instructions. Your wardrobe shall be simply brilliant, darling! Henry, I shall see you at Zaro’s shop at the corner of Centaur Way, aye?”

“Of course, my Lady,” Henry offered with a slight bow. Only after she was out of earshot did he sigh heavily and fall back into himself.

Taking her Uncle’s proffered hand, Amie stepped gingerly as possible after him. “So what did you mean when you called the hobgoblins our subjects?”

Henry waved at the aforementioned people, before tucking her hand through his arm and turning them away. “Wenderdowne is the largest estate after Hogswillow. In the beginning it controlled all these lands far as the eyes could see…but now we protect it.”

Amie nodded,
wondering
still at the history of this place. Once again she felt
a
shifting in the air, a foreboding of something darker to come, something she knew and remembered.

The front of the shop looked straight out of a movie set, so classic it was almost too imperfect. The roof hung over almost too far, the painted sign hanging by a thread, windows covered in layers of dirt and angled crookedly in parallel line to the open door. At the bench out front Emrys had already found his seat, glaring at the crowd who had taken steps closer.

“Ah
,
you shall wait here then
,
my old friend?” Henry asked with false felicity.

Emrys’ scowl deepened. “Fools wouldn’t stand to have the Merlin in their shop.” To Amie he adopted a smug grin. “Bane of the Vale, remember?” But once he thought she had turned away, his shoulders drooped and his eyes betrayed hidden sorrows.

Amie followed Henry inside the dimly lit shop, to the herald of faint chimes. The sound was familiar, like the sweetest songs…

“Oh
my gosh
!”
s
he gasped
once she spotted the hovering f
aeries flitting above. Their wooden homes hung from the rafters like her grandmother’s birdhouses. Once they perched and stopped to point out her arrival she saw their clothes were decidedly less woodsy and more urban tailored to fit. Tugging Henry’s sleeve
,
she whispered, “He keeps f
aeries as pets?”

Henry’s brow arose and
,
shaking his head
,
he said, “Not exactly
,
Jessamiene.” Yet before he could explain a portly figure rushed at them.

“Master Henry! Master Henry
,
you came! At last, aye, here it is, just finished it today!” As he spoke his cheeks jiggled beneath two slanted
,
sparkling brown eyes. His hair was covered by a cap not unlike the short brimmed hats Slaine preferred. Spools of thread hung from a belt round his waist, measuring tape with symbols instead of numbers danced around his neck.

“Excellent work
,
Rado. I had faith you could accomplish it in a day. No better milliner in town!”

Once
her eyes were adjusted to the light Amie finally noticed the piles of clothing, boxes stacked in precarious positions.

“Blasted dragon toes! Is this she, Master?” His breathless words jerked Amie’s attention back to him. Now that he stood before her she realized how much shorter hobgoblins really were. But there had been a time when Underhill was
the same height as
Amie.

Have I really grown that much?

“Yes, this is my delightful niece
,
the Lady Jessamiene.”

Amie worked
up
a smile, lifted her skirts like
Underhill
had shown her and tucked her chin into her neck.

The tailor froze at this, mouth molding to unspoken words. Sputtering
,
he bowed until his torso was level to the uneven floor. “M-milady! Why,” hand to his heart, “
the
great Creator above I believe hast given ye all the beauty of His angels!”

Amie couldn’t help her giggle. Henry grinned, clapped his friend on the shoulder and said, “Stand up tall
,
Rado! Though I quite agree there is no need for such lofty grasping! My Jessamiene well knows our regard for her.” His handsome face beamed with a pride that made Amie blush.

“Of course Master, of course…here let me
go and fetch
it.” The small male’s eyes lingered on Jessamiene a fraction too long, like an artist seeing the embodiment of his finest creation come to life.

“Very good then! Do not forget about your invitation either
,
my friend. We must allow you to see the fruit of your efforts.”

Rado’s teeth were covered with golden caps. Once he had disappeared through the door to his workshop Henry took her hand in his and squeezed. “Prepare yourself
,
my dear. You’ve never seen anything like hobgoblin work. Not even our own people create things of such beauty to last for so long. Unfortunately we tend to only be masters of illusion.”

Muffled cursing and the crashing of upturned boxes filled the silence. Henry’s grin was hesitant, yet constantly confident.

She smiled. “Uncle Henry
,
if I asked you something would you promise to be perfectly honest with me?”

“Hmm? Oh yes! Cross me heartstrings and hope to pluck!” He played the air above his chest like he was playing a harp, eyes crinkling at the corners.

Amie shook him by the arm. “I swear you can’t be serious for five minutes about anything!”

He held up a hand to cover her palm from the other sid
e. “Easy now!
’
T
is an insidious accusation and I will have none of it! We shall have out your questions and furthermore I promise you this, whatever you should like to do next today, consider it done.” Bringing her knuckles in for a butterfl
y’
s kiss he released her, crossed his arms over his chest and adopted his most scholarly air.

Amie struggled not to laugh, shook her head. “Okay…why do some people call you Iudicael and others Henry? Was that your name before? It sounds older. Did you use it once, long ago?”

A cloud passed over his face, and finally
he said
, “Aye…
’
tis my true name, Jessamiene. One I fors
ook
long ago for a darker time.” His eyes briefly grazed hers, fondly settled over her features. “Can you not guess
to
which dark time I am referring? Have you not heard the whispers, lass?”

Doing her best attempt not to turn red
,
Amie hesitated. “I know you were in love before, a long time ago. She called you Iudicael
,
didn’t she? That’s why you go by Henry now?” His eyes widened with the use of his true name, fixated on her lips and grimaced.

“True names are dangerous things in times like these. They hold power, never forget
this
. Others can take them and use them against you
,
Jessamiene. This is why you must never reveal your true name to anyone unless you trust them through and out.”

Amie frowned. “What is my true name?” Henry’s eyes were still too far away to answer and before she could dissect further Rado had emerged with his packaged creation. There was surprisingly no fitting, no last
-
minute changes.

“I declare this
pish-posh
the peak of my proudest production!” Rado declared.

Try saying that five times as fast
,
Amie mused to herself. To Uncle Henry she queried, “Uncle
,
don’t you think we should at
least
look
at it?” She awkwardly turned the large box in her hands. Henry held the other three, though what else he could have bought was a mystery beyond her.

Rado gasped and the faeries above tinkled with laughter. “Oh no, you mustn’t or you’ll undo the
brimbles
. They are very sensitive at the moment.” His grubby hands covered Amie’s and she wondered how
his thick
fingers managed a needle at all.

“Um…thank you.”

Her words made him balloon into a beaming, blushing, rocking
-
on
-
his
-
heels bundle.

“Do not forget
,
old friend! Be at the gates within a thousand hummingbirds
’
heartbeats of sunfall!” Henry called over his shoulder before opening the shop door. Amie smiled at the faerie
s
alighting on Rado’s shoulders and the brim of his cap.