Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 2

one else would notice or care if he never came back. But she...
    I'm sorry I didn't follow the rules, Awela. Once I get back, I'll never break them again.
    ... probably .
    Standing there thinking of his sister could only remind him of the white-flower scent of her magic, and so he asked, "Is there something magic in your bag? Apart from your concoctions?"
    Tammas cleared his throat. "Just something for Kamala to look at."
    "It feels familiar. Maybe I can help with it."
    "Um, maybe. Come on, if we get there soon enough, she'll have fresh bread."
    Aeron followed, wondering if he was being put off or if this was just another symptom of the greater idiot problem.
    ****
    Kamala didn't have a library so much as a room made of books. They were stacked from floor to ceiling— a ceiling of stone and wooden beams, unlike Tammas' little dwelling. She had a store of rare herbs two rooms over, and Aeron's wings buzzed with excitement the moment he uncurled his feelers. "You have sweetmint?"
    She didn't know it by that name, but she ushered him into her store-room and told him to do as he pleased. He took a little of her sweetmint, combined it with some darkmoon clove, and set a kettle on to boil. His mother's favorite tea. Awela and Father never kept it because they didn't like to remember her.
    He, on the other hand, loved to. Perhaps he only twisted memory to suit him, but he was certain he had been his mother's favorite.
    Just when the tea was ready, he spotted a sprig of aeronberries and plucked a single dried pink bead from the stem. He deposited it in the pocket of the awkward breeches for safekeeping.
    ****
    They went on like that for half a moon. Kamala always gave them lunch (she never ate carcass, thankfully) and helped them research binding in the afternoon. They'd go home just before dark, work in Tam's herb garden, light the fire, and talk of nothing for a few hours before falling asleep. Tammas would tell stories from the endless books he'd read, oftentimes hilarious prevarications about Faerie or wolves that became men or men that drank blood. Aeron would tell stories of Court gossip and intrigue or silly anecdotes about his sister's teachers or about the plants at home he'd never seen or smelled in Tammas' forest.
    Aeron had not completely forgiven Tammas his summoning mistake, nor could any of their little circle come up with an explanation for the binding being of such long duration. The whole affair was a dreadful inconvenience.
    And yet, it might have been worse.
    Aeron didn't mind Tammas' house--that was what the humans called their artificial dwellings, houses — so much. He liked the sweet green smell of it and the woodsmoke in the evenings. He'd never been much for study, but he'd learned a few interesting tricks in Kamala's books. He liked making himself useful translating difficult passages in High Ancient Faerie and learning new expressions in their language. Though Aeron had never thought of himself as a teacher, it was even gratifying to watch Tammas improve daily at communicating with the trees. Tam swore his magic had never been so strong as it was when Aeron was near, and even Aeron had to acknowledge that uncanny surge each time they worked together— perhaps some byproduct of the binding, perhaps simple compatibility. He still called Tam idiot in his native tongue on occasion, but it had become a term of endearment.
    It was an adventure, albeit a quiet one, just like the one his father had all those years ago. He missed Awela, but at least he had something to do here.
    At the end of Aeron's second sevenday in Tammas' house, when the moon was full and high, he stripped off the awful breeches and sat in the grass to watch the stars. They looked the same here as they did at home. He stretched his wings, wincing. That was the biggest drawback to the arrangement: he couldn't have a proper flyabout, with the village so near. He sighed and fluttered, letting magic seep from his fingers into the ground until the grass formed a fine cushion under his backside and hands.
    After long moments, he became aware of Tammas in the doorway behind him. He turned to look, lowering his wings against his back to get the full view. "What are you doing there?"
    Tam said, "Please don't put them away."
    Aeron turned his face back to the sky before Tammas could see his smirk and stretched his wings again. Awela's were the finest of anyone's in the light; it was a well-known fact. But Aeron didn't need to be ashamed of