I was just stepping through the door, however, as Bambleby came striding up the path, collar notably askew, looking put out. He started a little at the sight of me, then looked guiltily away.
“What has happened?” I said, already dreading the response. “And where on earth have you been?”
“It seems I must resign the field,” he said. “I displease you when I sleep late. I displease you when I rise early. I displease you when I do exactly what you tell me to do, when you tell me to do it. I cannot win with you, Em.”
“Yes, that’s enough of that.” I narrowed my eyes. “You visited the changeling.”
“Indeed. Though I’m afraid I could get little information from him, and that is because he has none to give. He does not know when his parents will return, nor why they abandoned him here.”
I scanned the path as he strode past me into the cottage. “Where are our assistants?”
“I thought it best to leave them at the tavern with their pockets full of coin.”
I did not like his tone one bit. “And what was the cause of this munificence on your part?”
He took his time in answering, using Shadow as an excuse as he greeted the dog with a lavish display of affection. “I brought them along to the farmstead.”
“Oh, God.” I stared at him. “Why would you do such a thing? That is not a creature to be dealt with by amateurs!”
“I am responsible for their education. An opportunity to study a changeling in person is invaluable to any budding scholar. Besides, you made it sound as if the creature was nearly harmless, Em.”
“I never said the word! If you think—”
“Well, you implied it. And you mastered that thing with a bit of iron! You are every inch as fearsome as I always supposed you to be.”
“The iron was of less importance than a knowledge of the ways of the Folk, gleaned through extensive reading and experience in the field. Such an understanding takes years.”
He gave me a look that I found difficult to interpret. “Had I known what that changeling was, the power it possesses, I would not have let you go there alone. I am a better friend to you than that.”
“I didn’t need your help,” I snapped. “I handled the situation adequately.”
He pressed his hands to his face. “Yesterday you were angry at my lack of assistance. Today you bite my head off for helping. You are the most contrary person I have ever known.”
That took the wind out of me. Being labelled contrary by Wendell Bambleby would stop any sensible person in her tracks. “I suppose I could have been more forthcoming,” I said grudgingly. I sat down at the table. “Well. What are we to do?”
“I don’t know.” He sat opposite me, drawing one knee up and resting his arm on it. With his other hand, he spun one of the empty teacups. “I don’t know what visions the creature showed them. I only know they were ghastly, given their reactions. Yet they both seemed calmer with some food and wine in them. I shall give them tomorrow off.”
I felt a niggle of guilt. “I suppose I should have mentioned,” I said, “that I did not leave the creature in the best of moods yesterday.”
He tilted his head at me in a look of wordless exasperation.
“Well, what visions did it show you?” I said, to redirect his attention.
“Oh, it doesn’t matter. Cold and ice and bloody wolves howling away.” The teacup rattled against the table as it spun. “Suffice it to say that I’ve met with worse Folk than that brat. Mord and Aslaug seemed disappointed that you did not accompany me. Did you realize you were capable of inspiring affection in others?”
“Only narcissists and layabouts, I thought.”
He leaned back, a smile playing on his mouth. “You know, Em, you could make life so much easier for yourself if you tried to be liked once in a while.”
“I do try,” I said, overloud. His words stung more than he could have guessed. I tried and tried—or at least, I used to, and nothing had ever come of it.
“Well, either way, you’ve outdone yourself this time. How you’ve convinced almost an entire village to hate you in the space of a week is beyond me. It will not make our research here easier, given the necessity of talking to said villagers.”
I gave a wordless sound of frustration, running a hand through my hair and dislodging yet more of it from its tie. He was right, and I hated it. “I did nothing to set them against me. Only somehow I offended Aud, and it seems the others are offended on her behalf.”
“Tell me,” he said, using his knee to push the chair onto its back legs.
Scowling, I gave him an account of my ill-fated visit to the tavern. By the time I was through, he was wincing and shaking his head.
“Oh, Em,” he said. “Em. Did you do no research at all before coming here?”
Now that galled me. “No research! What do you—”
“I don’t mean the Hidden Ones. I’ve no doubt you scoured all of Cambridge for every passing reference to them—I can picture you terrorizing the poor librarians now. I was referring to the mortal inhabitants of this delightful winter wasteland.”
He flicked open his satchel and pulled a book out, which he tossed to me. “What is this?” It appeared to be written in Ljoslander.
“A novel,” he said. He pulled out another book, which I barely caught. “On the smutty side, I’m afraid—not to your tastes at all. That one’s an account of a very dull trade war. Here.” He pulled out a third book, also in Ljoslander. “A biography of their last queen. That one’s not bad—she shot one of her suitors in the foot. By accident, of course.”
I folded my arms. “Thank you, but you needn’t go on. I understand.”
“Do you? Can you even read Ljoslander?”
“Well enough to get by,” I lied, for I had no intention of listening to him brag. Bambleby is irritatingly adept at languages. Small wonder—the Folk can speak any mortal language they encounter. As they flit through the physical barriers erected by mortals, so too do they evade those of our cultures.
“Hospitality is important to these people,” he said. “You’d know that if you’d bothered to learn anything about them at all. You offended Aud by insisting on paying for your supper.”
My mouth fell open. “That’s it? That’s why she hates me?”
He sighed. “Perhaps if you were not so covered in prickles, she would have forgiven you by now. But if there’s anyone who could encourage others to go looking for excuses to take offence, it is you. And then you compounded the mistake by barging into her village with your questions, and without seeking her permission first.”
“I cannot believe that the villagers require her permission to speak to me.”
“Of course they don’t. You should have sought it regardless.”
I put my head in my hands. Bambleby was right, damn him. “Well, what are we going to do?”
“You are going to have to allow her to be kind to you,” he said. “To welcome you as a guest. And to do it in such a way that she will not simply assume I told you what to do.”
“I have absolutely no idea how to achieve that.”
“I know.” He thunked his chair down and gave me a considering look. “I didn’t say I wouldn’t help you, only that we must not let on to Aud. We need to work through this before we go much further in our research. The villagers were evasive with me last night whenever the subject turned to the Hidden Ones. My friendship with you means that I will not get much from them, either.”
I groaned. “Can’t you charm them into giving you what you want, as you usually do?”
“Probably. But that will take time. Do we have it to waste? As you are so fond of reminding me, we have only a few weeks.”
I stared at my hands. Thora would speak with me, but I could not base my research on the testimony of a single person.
I have always hated this sort of thing. I would sooner interview a dozen bloody changelings than navigate my way through this thicket of social conventions. I thought to myself that perhaps I should simply avoid conversation altogether going forward, seeing as I always make a mess of it.
“My dear Emily. I’ve never seen you look so dejected.” He was regarding me with affection—and something else, but it was gone before I could name it. “Why don’t we go for a stroll? You can entertain me with a list of your demands. Then I can find a nice place for a nap whilst you hunt for some common fae to harass.”
“I wish to see the lake,” I said, already on my feet. I wanted more than anything to put the conversation from my mind. “You say you found a footpath?”
He groaned a little at that, but I was already out the door, and so he donned his coat and followed.
31st October