Grey Folk

Chapter 9

Midge stared at the spot Emory had been, then glanced back at Rita, who looked just as mystified. In fact, Rita looked more than mystified, she looked concerned.

"Where'd he go?" Midge asked, her voice wheezy and faint. She felt as if she'd recently been punched in the chest and was still regaining her breath; the surrounding scenery had spun her into a daze and she had yet to find her footing.

"Hopefully back home," Rita said, then murmured, "foolish boy," under her breath. "I'm sure we will see him again soon. Did he already explain the rules of the island to you?"

"Yes," Midge replied, glancing down at the small faun again. She was so round, pink-cheeked and pretty, exuding that familiar faunish aura of happiness and contentment. Midge did not miss Queen Titania's plane, exactly, but she was glad a small piece of it was here with her for the time being. "The rules seem remarkably similar to those in the Faewild."

Rita laughed, banishing the last of the worry from her eyes, and turned her steps back in the direction of the pool. "You are not wrong, for that matter, though Emory is not nearly as... er... unpredictable as Her Majesty, and he certainly does not claim to be our king."

Midge was not sure how she knew exactly where that pool was, but it drew her with a distant ache, a cold burning point in her mind. Falling into step behind Rita, she raised her voice so it could be heard over the breeze rustling the vibrant leaves overhead. "So you weren't born on the Mundane plane?"

"No, I'm one of the few who actually came through the portal in Southport," Rita explained, kicking up her hooves to avoid a scampering rabbit in their path. "I used to live in an adorable little cottage near the Lake of Dreams. Then a young, bratty green dragon, Razcoreth, set up a fiefdom in the area and Queen Titania refused to do anything about it, claiming that all her creatures deserved a right to live as they saw fit, and if we didn't like it, we ought to leave."

Midge wasn't shocked. "The strongest survive."

"In the Faewild, maybe. But it's not like that here. Or at least, it doesn't have to be," Rita said, brushing aside a tall stalk of orchids.

"Emory protects you here, where it's secluded from the stronger beings of the plane," Midge guessed, glancing down at her new friend. Someone who took it upon themselves to leave not only their home, but the entire Faewild itself, was certainly not weak in any case.

"Sort of. I could go elsewhere safely enough, I'm sure, but I just always wanted to live in a remote, wild place like this."

Midge did not blame her. Being able to hear the thoughts and feel the feelings of those around them made fauns extremely sensitive to large crowds. "So how did you earn a spot on this beautiful island? Did Emory recruit you for your healing aura and psychic abilities?"

"Ah, well. That is what he would tell you," Rita said with a fond smile. They were making swift progress towards an ascending hill, and the earth began to soften with sand. The far-off sound of waves and the scent of salt in the air signaled the approach of the dunes.

"And what would you tell me?" Midge pressed, curious for the little faun's thoughts despite the distractions around her.

"I already knew Emory from one of his missions; he got lost in the Broken Vale, and I was near enough to hear him, berating himself for his own stupidity and weighing whether or not to teleport himself to safety. I set him back on track, and he told me he owed me a favor. You know that matters, in the Faewild."

Midge nodded. A favor owed was a binding contract, in that place. Only a fool would ever admit he owed someone an open-ended favor. "So you came here to call in your favor."