of botheration in the process. Or he could deliver her to Conall himself.
The prospect was tempting. After all, Conall had saddled Grim with Evan, and turnabout was fair play.
“Very well, I will take you to him,” Grim said, “but I would ask a small boon in return.”
Her eyes narrowed. “What sort of boon, warrior? I am in no mood for games.”
“Nothing too onerous. Tell me, huntress, what do you know of milk cows?”
Chapter Fourteen
The titmouse flitted across the lawn and disappeared among the branches of a towering white oak. The tree was huge, at least eighty feet tall and four feet in diameter. Shattered trees lay in heaps, wooden corpses left by Monster Evan’s tornado fit the night before.
Perfect egg? The bird trilled from the green canopy. Sassy see perfect egg?
“I’m trying,” Sassy said. “My fairy kit didn’t come with wings.”
Thank goodness. Wings would ruin the line of a dress.
She surveyed the branches, mulling the best way to proceed. Even the lowest branches were over her head. She’d never climbed a tree. Mama said tree climbing was for dirty little boys, not young ladies.
Mama wasn’t here.
On impulse, Sassy pressed her palms against the oak’s fissured bark. Memories flooded her. The tree was old and measured time in seasons. In her mind’s eye, Sassy saw endless hot summers, dry, crisp falls, and damp winters that mellowed into springs rife with golden pollen and the noisy burst of growing things.
And fairies; fairies had made merry in this tree for centuries. These limbs had been an oaken hall where they danced in warty acorn caps and hairy yellow catkins.
Breaker gone? The oak’s melancholy voice startled Sassy.
“Yes, the breaker is gone, but you mustn’t blame him. It was the witch.” Sassy racked her brain for a way to explain. “She poisoned his sap.”
Bunny rabbits, she hoped she wasn’t being indelicate. Talking sap to a tree could be the equivalent of mentioning her lady parts in mixed company.
Ahhhh, the oak moaned wisely. Blight.
“My friend has an egg she wants to show me. Mind if I climb up and take a look?”
Tickle.
“I’ll try not to, though I can’t promise. It’s the toes, I would imagine.”
Tow-zes, the tree agreed.
The tree roots on the other side of the oak splayed out from the base in a thick tangle that resembled elephant trunks. Maybe if she climbed up the roots, she could reach one of the lower limbs. She lifted her hands from the tree trunk to investigate and felt a slight pull.
Peter, peter, peter, the titmouse chirped.
“Hold your tail feathers. I’m coming.”
Sassy placed the sole of her right foot and the palms of both hands against the bark. They stuck. Fairy Velcro—how creamy.
She scampered up the tree, quick and sure-footed as a squirrel, her toes and fingers finding purchase and clinging to the rough bark. The sense of power and freedom was exhilarating.
Mama was wrong. Girls did climb trees, and it was fun.
The bird had made its nest in an abandoned woodpecker hole. Sassy sat down on a stout limb to admire it. The little shelter was cup shaped and made of moss and twigs. Something soft lined the interior. Animal hair, Sassy realized, leaning in for a closer look. Tucked inside the soft hollow were three cream and brown speckled eggs not much bigger than a dime.
The titmouse bobbed her head up and down. Egg? Sassy see egg?
“Yes, I see them. They’re beautiful.”
The bird whistled in delight and gave Sassy a bright, inquisitive look. Sassy give shiny?
“Shiny? I’m sorry, I don’t know what—”
The bird darted to Sassy’s shoulder and pecked at her locks. Shiny?
“Oh, of course.” Sassy plucked a few strands of her hair from her head and laid them next to the woodpecker hole. “Consider it a baby present.”
The titmouse set to work adding Sassy’s blond curls to the lining of the nest. Dismissed, Sassy got to her feet and looked around. The river sparkled in the sunlight. On the opposite bank, the woods were a green smudge against the pale morning sky. So beautiful . . . it made her chest ache. She filled her lungs with cool morning air and committed the panorama and the earthy scents to memory.
As a child, she’d buried herself in books, longing for adventure and strange, magical places. She’d found them in Hannah, but that didn’t mean she belonged here. Her life was back in Fairhope. She had a gift shop to run, and Mama and Daddy Joel would be worried sick.
Wesley would be worried, too. They were getting