See Me Page 7

  I pushed aside the nagging jealousy and hurt feelings that he hadn’t been looking forward to meeting me. “So, you’re saying she’s nice to you?”

  “In her own way. When she is, ‘tis real, not born of obligation.”

  Ouch. First of all, I had a hard time believing anything from her was “real,” but I was more bugged by the obligation comment.

  “You think I’m being nice to you out of obligation?”

  “I don’t rightly know.”

  “Well, I’m not.”

  “Robyn.” He sighed and set down his instrument, moving his hands over his hair. “Ye don’t have to say that. Ye told me yerself that the Fae are makin’ ye bind wit’ me.”

  I scooted onto my knees in front of him, needing him to see my eyes and understand me.

  “McKale, I only found out about the Fae’s involvement while I was traveling here. I didn’t know before that, and I grew up thinking about you. I’ve looked forward to meeting you since I was six-years-old—”

  A derisive laugh burst out of him, cutting me off and taking me by surprise. I sat back on my heels. “You don’t believe me?”

  He shook his head at the ground. “I believe ye want to keep yer family safe from the Fae, and I can respect that. Ye do no’ have to pretend.”

  He was so jaded. It made my heart ache.

  “McKale, you were the one who brought it up about how your clan doesn’t usually force bindings. How was I supposed to feel?” He opened his mouth to say something, but I kept going. “Look. It sucks that we’re being forced, and maybe I’m being naïve, but I want to make the best of this, don’t you?” When he didn’t answer, I asked, “Do you want me to leave? Go back home?”

  “Are ye ready to leave so soon?” The look he gave me was tough, but I could sense the hurt underneath.

  “No.” This was frustrating. “But I was ready to leave last night. I wasn’t feeling very welcome.”

  “Has the clan not welcomed ye openly?”

  “I meant welcomed by you.”

  He dropped his eyes again, touching the smooth wood of his violin.

  “Forgive me,” he whispered. “I…”

  Before he could finish we heard Brogan calling him. McKale sighed and we both pushed to our feet. I wiped debris from my bottom and followed McKale out to the clearing. Brogan uncrossed his arms and softened when he saw me.

  “Top o’ the morning to you, Robyn.”

  No, he did not just say that. Cass was going to flip when I told her.

  “Good morning, Brogan.”

  “Yer father’s requestin’ that we have a discussion first thing this morning. We’ll break our fast soon after.”

  Break our fast? Oh, my gosh—breakfast! Another cute thing to make Cass happy. The seriousness on Brogan’s face kept me from smiling as he turned and headed back in the direction of the huts with McKale and me following. Before we got there, my family came walking out. Cassidy hadn’t even bothered to change out of her pajamas for the family meeting.

  Brogan led us all to the end of a row of tables under a thin canopy. A palpable tension banded around our group. Brogan and McKale sat together on one side of the table. When I came around the other side to be with my family, I caught the not-so-friendly look on Dad’s face as I sat next to him. Uh-oh.

  McKale and his father made quite the pair. Brogan sat up tall and McKale slightly slumped, as if he didn’t want to loom too much higher than the older man. They both propped their forearms on the table and linked their fingers in the exact same way. Brogan looked up at his son.

  “The Masons are concerned about yer commitment to this pairing, and rightly so. Last night was the first time I’d ever noticed the interaction between ye and the Shoe Mistress. Have ye compromised yerself, son?”

  The Shoe Mistress? What the heck did that mean? And I squirmed a little at the question about being “compromised.” Yuck.

  “My commitment to the clan has never wavered, Father.” McKale’s voice was quiet and careful. “I cannot ignore the Shoe Mistress when she speaks to me, or deny taking her hand when she offers it. Ye know we cannot slight their kind.”

  A sarcastic cough sounded from Cassidy at the other end of the bench.

  “McKale, dear.” Mom reached across the table and patted his hands. He lifted his eyes to her with politeness. “We all want this to work out. As for Robyn’s father and myself, we are mostly concerned that the two of you will be happy. That means there can be no future… relations”—insert cringing from me here—“with this Fae, no matter how great or small.”

  McKale nodded and lowered his eyes as if humiliated.

  Brogan clapped his hands together and puffed out his chest. “Now that we’ve cleared that up, when can we expect the binding ceremony to take place? The Summer King’s mistress will want to be notified.”

  Gee, no pressure or anything. McKale and I shared an embarrassed look before both staring down at the table again. Dad cleared his throat next to me.

  “Robyn will turn eighteen in less than a month’s time. We would prefer if they had at least that long to get to know one another.”

  Brogan’s tense brow showed that he worried the timeframe was excessive, but he nodded his agreement anyhow.

  “Very well, then. Please accept my apologies for the unpleasantness of last eve. Surprise portal openings never bode well. They usually occur but twice a year—once for ordering shoes and once for delivery of the goods. We weren’t expecting them again until summer’s end.”

  “Things happen,” my father said, and though the words were pleasant, his face was still in scary-mode. “I believe they came to make sure Cecelia and I honored our agreement. I’m sure the rest of the summer will work out just fine. Won’t it, McKale?”

  Oh, dear. That was dadspeak for stay-away-from-the-Fae-and-don’t-hurt-my-daughter.

  Or else.

  I wanted to crawl somewhere and hide. Or better yet, shrink into a mini Robyn-chaun and jump on the back of the nearest sheep that could whisk me off somewhere where boys weren’t forced into being with me.

  McKale straightened and met my dad’s eyes. “Aye, Mr. Mason.”

  Brogan stood. “Well, then. Glad that’s all settled. I do believe I smell our morning meal preparing. Let us visit the kitchens and then we’ll eat in the open air this fine morn.”

  My parents thanked him and followed.

  “I’ll be right there,” I told them. Cassidy scooted closer to me and McKale didn’t move from his spot across from us.

  “Well, that was awkward,” Cassidy said once the adults were out of hearing distance.

  I looked at McKale, but he was intent on studying a groove in the wooden tabletop, running his thumb along it.

  “Can I ask you something, McKale?” Cassidy spoke, then she forged ahead without waiting for him to answer. “What do you think of my sister so far?”

  “Cass!” Could my family possibly humiliate me any further this morning?

  “What?” She eyed me before turning back to McKale. “So? What do you think?”

  I clenched my teeth.

  “I don’t believe it truly matters what we think of one another,” he said.

  “Wrong.” She leaned forward. “There’s no time to be negative and bitter. It may not matter to your clan or the Fae what you two think of each other, but we Masons are not a clan, we’re a family, and it matters to us. So tell me. What was your first thought when you met her?”

  My breathing went shallow. As uncomfortable as this was, I wanted to hear his answer. Plus, he had to pass this “test” in order to gain Cassidy’s approval, which meant a lot to me. Would he even play along?

  Please play along.

  His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, and then his jaw rocked back and forth slowly, highlighting the line of red hair that ran along its edge. Other Chaun men began to filter into the clearing, carrying their plates. I felt Cassidy getting uptight next to me. Just as I was about to tell her to forget about it, McKale wh
ispered.

  “She reminded me of the Irish Hollyhock.”

  “The what?” Cassidy asked.

  He shook his head. “Nothing. Never ye mind.”

  She crossed her arms and glared at him. A Little Man was walking nearby and she called out to him.

  “Excuse me, sir?” She smiled and waved him over. McKale’s face froze. “Can you please tell me what the Irish Hollyhock is?”

  “Well, certainly then. It’s a flowering plant that grows taller than meself. The bigger it gets the more it blooms with color. They’re sturdy and quite stunning, really. Does that answer yer question, miss?”

  Cassidy beamed a large smile at him. “It sure does. Thank you so much.” He nodded and walked to his table. With her arms still crossed, Cassidy faced McKale and cocked her head.

  “You could have just said you thought she was pretty, but I like the Hollyhock thing even better. And just in case you’re wondering, she thinks you’re cute, too.”

  Kill me, please.

  A slight tint colored McKale’s cheekbones as Cassidy tapped my arm. “Come on, Robyn. I’m hungry.”

  “Wait,” McKale called. We stopped. He captured my eyes and my insides cartwheeled. “Robyn… about last night. I hope ye’ll accept my apology.”

  His brow was creased with the strain of everything. Filled with a strange mix of trepidation and hope, all I could do was nod. I was too shaken to chance a look backward as we walked away. Cassidy bumped my hip with her own, and I pressed my lips together.

  “See, aren’t you glad I asked? He thinks of you like a flower!” She giggled.

  “Not a flower,” I corrected. “A sturdy plant.”

  “Covered in beautiful flowers! And sturdy is good. I’ll cut him a little slack for now. I’d hate to have to embarrass him in front of the clan.”

  I bumped her hip back, hoping more than anything there would be no need for anymore embarrassing confrontations at all, this summer or ever.

  IN THE HOT KITCHEN, women bustled around with aprons, cooking in pans over open coals in giant fireplaces along the wall.

  A pretty, younger girl with long golden hair and a round face approached Cassidy and me, smiling.

  “Mornin’ Robyn and Cassidy! I’m Leilah. Let me fix yer plates.”

  Half a minute later she handed us both tin plates and we thanked her, stomachs growling at the sight of fried eggs, a slice of what she called bacon, though it looked like ham to me, and a thick piece of flatbread spread with purple jam.

  “My pleasure. Come back and see us. There’s always talk to be heard in the kitchens for anyone with an ear.” She winked at us, wiping her hands on her apron and moving on to serve the group of men who’d come in behind us.

  “Everyone here sure winks a lot,” Cassidy whispered as we walked with our plates back out to the clearing.

  I thought about Leilah’s offer to come back and talk. A lot could probably be learned from the females. Visiting the kitchen topped my agenda list for today.

  I was surprised to find McKale sitting at the end of a long table across from my parents, seeming to exchange pleasantries. My parents had plates of food, but McKale didn’t. I boldly sat down next to him and smiled when he looked at me. The goal was to get to know him. No time to waste.

  “Aren’t you eating?” I asked him.

  “Aye, but I’m in the habit of taking mine an’ eating on the way to the Shoe House.”

  “The Shoe House?” Mom asked.

  “Aye. Our largest structure. Most of the men folk spend their days working on the shoes. My job is tanning hides for the leather. In fact, I’d better be off. My partner is cranky when I’m late.”

  He stood and inclined his head to the four of us, lingering longest on me, before walking in the direction of the big building. I watched him go, noting his long limbs and thin frame. It was hard to believe he was fifty-years-old and his body still had some filling-out to do. I turned my attention back to my breakfast, which was as delicious as it looked.

  “Well, he can certainly be polite when he wants to,” Mom noted, sipping her hot tea.

  “What kind of trouble will you girls get into today?” Dad asked. Cassidy and I thought about it.

  “I’d like to meet some of the women,” I said. “Maybe take a walk around the area or something.”

  “Yeah, your mother and I will probably explore the land, too. I might have a look in the shoe factory later. See if I can make myself useful while I’m here.”

  “It’s the Shoe House, Dad,” Cass corrected him. “You have to use their lingo.”

  “Ah, yes. Shoe House.”

  “And Robyn says they’re anti-women over there,” Cass warned him.

  Our parents looked at me, interested.

  “Yeah, I went by yesterday and they seemed a little spooked to see a girl inside.”

  Dad laughed. “Feminine wiles would distract the boys from work.”

  “Nah,” Mom said. “Harmless superstitions, is all. Don’t get your feelings hurt.”

  After breakfast, Cassidy and I set off for the kitchens. I felt shy when we got there. I’d always been somewhat intimidated by other females, feeling like I wasn’t girly enough and I couldn’t catch on to the passive-aggressive subtleties many girls lived by. I’d always gotten along better with boys. In general they were simpler to understand, although McKale was giving me a run for my money.

  Six women hunched over shallow barrels scrubbing dishes and pans. They had an assembly line going. The oldest woman with a head full of short, curly gray hair held out a soapy hand for our dishes without looking at us.

  “We can wash them,” I told her, feeling bad.

  “Och, just give ‘em to me.” She snatched them from my hand and began scrubbing with zeal.

  Leilah and the other young girl were at the rinsing station, dunking sudsy dishes into the clean water.

  “Here.” Leilah tipped her chin toward a stack of towels. “You can dry.”

  Cassidy and I went over and grabbed towels, drying and stacking. Those ladies moved fast and we worked quickly to keep up, fumbling a little and making Leilah and her friend giggle. I decided I might write an ode to the awesomeness of electric dishwashers and indoor plumbing.

  “This is my friend, Rachelle.” Leilah’s friend had curly dark hair that she pulled back in a bonnet.

  “Do you two room together?” I asked them, wiping my damp forehead with my arm.

  “Aye. Most of us wee women live together except the ones currently bound.”

  “How old are you, Leilah? Sorry, not trying to be nosy. I’m just curious.”

  “Not at all. I’m one-o-nine. Rachelle here’s the babe of the women. She’s only ninety-eight.”

  We finished up the dishes and the four of us girls left the hot kitchen. It was warm outside, but at least there was a breeze and occasional clouds.

  Leilah and Rachelle took us through the village, into a part we hadn’t been yet. We ended up in a fenced farm area with partitioned spaces for goats, pigs, and chickens. The girls scooped feed from a barrel to feed the animals. I watched them work, noting every detail in hopes of eventually “making myself useful” like Dad had mentioned. They walked us through their morning chores, mostly caring for the animals. I could deal with farm animals way easier than something like, oh, let’s say, dumping the chamber pots. Blech.

  When they were finally done they led us to a nearby patch of soft clover where we all sat.

  “What do ye think of our McKale?” Leilah asked.

  I was so glad she made the first move.

  “I like him,” I told her. “He’s shy, but we just met, so hopefully that’ll pass.”

  “Ye don’t think he’s too…” Rachelle’s little voice was a cute, squeaky sound. She motioned upward from the top of her head. Leilah poked her in the side and frowned. Rachelle slumped, shamefaced.

  “Too tall?” I asked. “Not for me. I prefer men who are taller than me.”

  “Oh?” Rachelle’s eyes ro
unded, disbelieving. “Ye don’t say.”

  “What can you tell us about him?” Cassidy asked. “Just between us girls.” She sounded easy-going, but I knew she was itching for info.

  “Well, I’m not one to talk down about the clan,” Leilah began. “But McKale’s not exactly had it easy. He surely feels a bit o’ pressure being the clan’s ‘last hope.’ Ye can be certain the elder men don’t let him forget it, either. But at the same time, they’re careful not to let it go to his head. He might have the blessing of the Fair Folk, but among the Chaun he’s the odd man out.”

  “Because he’s tall?” I asked.

  She nodded, looking ashamed to admit there was such a prejudice among them. The height issue seemed stupid to me, but I supposed every culture had their ridiculous prejudices. Not that that made it okay.

  “If he doesn’t want to be tall, can’t he just shrink himself down to everyone else’s size?” Cassidy asked.

  “Och, no. They can only be normal sized or tiny.” Leilah held her hands about twelve inches apart. “Nothing in between. And the Leprechaun don’t take well to unnecessary shifting, such as the Clourichaun do fer fun.”

  “I don’t get it,” I said. “What’s the point of being able to shift? Can they glamour to disappear, too?”

  “Aye.” Leilah settled back onto her hands, crossing her short legs in front of herself. “The Leprechaun were the first humans ever to be gifted with magic by the Fae. It was a test of sorts. The Fae didn’t want to give men too much power at first, but they wanted them to be able to easily hide in the grasses and forests if necessary. Besides making shoes, they had the job of tracking Fae who came out of the portal to mingle among humans. The Fae could not be stopped, but the humans who had interaction with the Faeries had to be wiped clean.”

  “Wiped clean?” Cassidy and I asked at the same time, making the girls laugh.

  “Surely ye’ve heard of Trackers?” Rachelle asked. I shook my head. “Well, they’re able to use magic to make humans forget moments. They follow the Fae and wipe the memories from humans who come into contact with them. Eventually the Fae bores and returns to their own realm. Only two Chaun Trackers remain, and there’s nary a bit o’ use for ‘em anymore.”