Chapter 16 - Friends

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The woman who led me here grabs my arm again and forces me into the room. I stumble forward, stopping a few feet away from where most of the girls are gathered around a table overladen with food. My eyes latch onto one doe-eyed girl who froze to stare at me, the knife in her hand hovering over a plump turnip. All of the girls seem to be either preparing or sorting through the pile of food.

That is, they were until I showed up.

"Keep your eyes to yourselves or pop them out of your pretty little faces." The woman beside me hollers, and all the girls jump back to their tasks.

Then the woman grabs one of the girls who's walking by with a bucket of water. "You, bring this one over to be stripped of her clothing. Be sure she is dressed in the proper gown and put to work with the others."

The girl's head is hung, her eyes diverted away. "Yes, my lady. And where shall I put her old clothes?"

The woman glances me over, her nose raised and her lips pressed into a disgusted sneer. "Burn them all. Anything mortal has now been deemed toxic by the High King."

I hug my arms around my middle and look down at my clothes. Maybe they do seem a little worn out and dirty, but toxic?

The girl nods and her bright eyes flash up at me before falling back to the ground. "Follow me." She says. Wherever she's going, I know it'll be better than standing next to the tight lipped woman with sharp nails, so I hurry after the girl with the bucket.

She leads us into a side room and sets her bucket on the floor, pausing to stretch her back as her brow furrows in discomfort. Then she looks right at me and again I'm caught off-guard by the intensity of her stare. There's a spark of resolution inside her, despite her previous display of surrender. She gestures to the bucket on the floor.

"Wash yourself if you please. I will fetch your new clothes." Her voice is stronger now that the woman can't hear her.

I watch her leave out the door again and stand there in the dim light as it filters on to the dirt floor around my feet. It comes from an off-white orb that flickers in the corner, like a lightbulb about to die. My focus returns to the bucket, and I look at my faded sneakers with a sigh.

I guess I don't really have a choice, do I?

And besides, after seeing all those girls who mirror my own fears, I know that there are more terrible things going on in this place than me having to give up my old clothes.

Sitting on a stool, I tug one shoe off after the other, followed by my cargo pants (now spotted in blood) and my jacket. The girl reappears as I'm standing there in my undies and t-shirt. If she notices, she doesn't care. The folded clothes in her arms are set on the stool, and she tells me to hurry before we're whipped for dallying.

The rest of my clothes are torn off and I consider rinsing myself with the bucket of water, but I'd rather be covered in sweat and dirt than gashes from a whip. There is thin, white slip that fits like a small dress. I then pull the heavier navy dress over my head and let it fall to my calves. I look for shoes, but don't see that the girl left me any.

She must have noticed my confusion. "Only the wealthiest faeries are allowed to wear shoes." She says. "And since you are neither wealthy nor Fae, you will walk in bare feet." Her small frame bends to gather my clothes on the floor, and I hand her the sneakers when she stands upright.

There's a glimpse of a smile on her lips as she takes the sneakers from me. "Do not worry. You will get used to not having shoes." She glances at the door where the the noise from the kitchen continues on. "At times I pretend to be a wild princess who hates wearing shoes, so I can feel like I do it on purpose."

I return her smile and glance at my bare feet, where sock lint and dirt are crusted between every toe. "More like a wild animal than a princess," I say, "but I like it."

Her smile widens. "I am Lena." Her distinct syllables and slight accent make me wonder if English is her first language.

"I'm Roisín."

She jerks her head toward the door and I follow her into the kitchen. There's a small fireplace near the back wall and Lena tosses my clothes on the coals. She kneels down and adds more wood while the flames crackle and spit, licking over what's left of my old life and turning it to ash. The immediate smell of burning cloth fills my nose, and I step back as Lena pokes at the fire.

"That horrid smell!"

I turn around to see the grumpy woman waving her hands in front of her face to fan the smoke away. Her face is pulled into an ugly scowl like someone who just ate a lemon slice.

"Unlike you mortals, I cannot breathe these toxic fumes." She says as she waddles towards tunnel where we came in. "I will send someone of less importance to act as your supervisor until the air is clean of your mortal stench."

The moment she disappears through the tunnel, there's a universal release of laughter and I notice one of the girls mimicking the woman's stout waddle, waving her hands in the air as her mouth pulls into a frown.

"Get your mortal stench out of my face!" She cries, and the room erupts in fits of giggles.

I'm wiping my eyes, filled with moisture from the smoke as well as my own laughing. Lena grins, her caramel skin wrinkling slightly around her mouth and eyes.

"You got rid of the Wicked Witch on your first day."

"Is that what you call her?"

She pulls her black hair around her shoulder and runs her fingers through it. "It is what most of us call her. But I call her something much more terrible in my mind."

Lena walks over to join the other girls, and the one who was mimicking the Witch before is giving me a look of appraisal.

"Not too bad, new girl." She says. Even under the navy dress, I can tell that her muscles are toned. She also stands at least two inches taller than me. "I'm Marilla, but you can call me Markie."

I nod once, tucking my hands behind my back in case they start shaking or something. I've never been great about having girlfriends, but to survive here I might have to learn how. I clear my throat from the smoke.

"I'm Roisín."

The doe-eyed girl who I first saw is peeking around Markie. She has light hair braided off her face in a long tail down her back. "So you're Irish?"

The way the words sound on her tongue give the reason for her curiosity away. "No," I say, "I'm from New England. But you're Irish, right?"

Her eyes fall. "Yes, from the true Ireland above ground. But like most of us here, we have not seen our homes in so long, we might not recognize them anymore."

Now all of the girls are looking at the ground. Even Markie's dark eyes are shimmering with emotion. I glance at Lena, who can only offer a sad shrug.

"How many moons since you left your home?" Someone asks from the other side of the table. Only a handful of girls are still chopping vegetables or rolling out clumps of dough. The rest are all watching me like I'm a celebrity.

"Uh..." I start counting the sunsets and sunrises I've seen since I climbed into Cináed's ship. "This is my third day, I guess."

"Still so new." The Irish girl whispers with longing.

"But it feels like an eternity." I add, and I mean it. "And it's been forever since I've eaten anything either."

My eyes wander over to something that looks like a shepherd's pie, and my tongue is salivating at the thought of stuffing the whole thing in my mouth.

Markie hands me a carrot with odd lumps bulging out its sides. I can tell it came straight from the ground and hasn't even been washed yet.

"You can't eat much before the feast. Otherwise the Witch will notice and flog you for it."

I stare at the carrot in my hand before the grumbling of my stomach overcomes my other senses and I crunch my teeth into it, biting off the top and chewing as fast as I can.

"So how did you all end up here, anyway?" I say between bites.

"We all have different stories." Lena says beside me. "But the part we share is our regret for ever trusting in a faerie."

Everyone nods, and I hear several voices murmur their agreement around the table. I'm about to press for more details when the sound of footsteps echoes from the tunnel.

"The Witch is coming." A voice hisses from the tunnel. I wonder if the voice belongs to the girl who let us in at the gate.

All bodies go stiff before they rush back to their places. Lena takes my hand and we sit at a washtub full of floating vegetables just as someone steps into the room.

The Witch's eyes scan over the girls, now hunched over the table with emotionless expressions. Her eyes rest on the side of face, but I don't look up from the half-eaten carrot I'm now pretending to wash until the Witch is standing right beside me.

"There you are." She says, snatching my arm and pulling me off the ground. "The High King wants to speak to the pretty new pet."

I stumble along beside her, glancing back at Lena's eyes wide with fear before we disappear into the tunnel.


<<--------------->>

So Roisín is learning how to make friends after all. Have you ever felt like the odd duckling in a new group? Sometimes it seems easier to hide indoors all day than to socialize (especially when you work from home like I do!) But then I tell myself that the longer I stay inside, the crazier I'll get. So here's to all you crazies who might prefer a book to an actual conversation. The struggle is so realistic sometimes, but know that I'm here for you <3

More adventure coming tomorrow!

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