The Faceless Woman by Emma Hamm (i love reading .txt) 📕

“No, though many may argue with me. He lets his subjects run wild, but Fiach Dubh Ri looks after children like us. All we have to do is call his name, and he will come to our rescue.”

“Have you ever seen him?” asked the boy who always questioned her.

“I have. When I was young, a boy like you called out for Fiach Dubh Ri. His father beat him every night until his ribs were black and blue. One night was worse than the others. He lay on the floor, holding his sides and wondering when death would take him. Then he cried out for the Raven King to come and save him.” She curled her hands into fists. “I’ve seen nothing like it before. The king arrived in a flock of ravens. They were swift and cold, their beaks flashing like swords in the night, until his father’s last breath rattled in the air. They freed him from years of cruelty, leaving nothing behind but a single black feather.”

She left out most of the details. None of the children would sleep if she told them the ravens pecked out the father’s eyes and then vanished as if they never existed. The son had wondered if it really happened until he awoke and saw the body still cold on the floor.

“You must be careful invoking his name,” she advised. “He is a powerful faerie who will extract a high price.”

“I thought making deals with faeries was bad?”

“It is.” She nudged a few of her fingers into view, their tips tattooed black. “And if you intend to make deals, then you need to take precautions.”

A little girl reached out and took her hand. She pulled it out of the folds of fabric, turning it upside down to reveal the tattooed eyes on Aisling’s palms. “What are these?”

“Protection against the Fae.”

“Why do you need to be protected?”

Aisling bit her tongue to prevent the words from coming out.

Because she knew what cruelty the faeries were capable of and so that they could never find her. Because she was a bad woman and not a single one of these children should be inside her house.

But she didn’t want to scare them away. She collected poor souls, and these were the rarest of all. The children glowed with innocence like fireflies in the night. If she could, Aisling would have bottled them up and kept them on her shelf. They reminded her that life could be good if she only remembered the possibilities.

She curled her fingers to her palm and drew her hand away from the little girl. “That’s a story for another time.”

A scrabbling sound came from the window. Graceless and clumsy, an overly large black cat clambered up onto the windowsill and let out a dramatic sigh.

“Hello there, Lorcan. Did you catch anything for supper?” Aisling asked.

He stared at her with a severe expression then glared at the children. They knew better than to pet him. A few had battle scars from the ferocious creature’s claws.

“Aisling,” a little girl asked, “does he want us to go?”

She met the cat’s gaze, and he slowly nodded.

Narrowing her eyes, she replied, “Yes, I think he does. Which way, Lorcan?”

He nodded toward the back exit. It was the secret way to leave her home, only used when absolutely necessary. By telling her to send the children that way, he also warned her danger was near.

Aisling burst to her feet. “Come along, children. I apologize we won’t have any elixir tonight, but I’ll keep it warm for tomorrow. If there is no light in the hut, you know not to come.”

A small flap of leather covered the hole in the back wall. She lifted it so each child could slip through the crack, their bodies small enough to flee.

The last little girl, an angelic thing with a dandelion puff of blond hair but who was much too thin, hesitated and glanced up. “Is everything all right, Aisling?”

She saw the worry in the little girl’s eyes and didn’t know how to make it better. “Go on now. And if you run into trouble, call for Fiach Dubh Ri to help, yes?”

“Will you call for him tonight?”

Aisling was considering it, but didn’t want to frighten the child. “Off with you!”

The little girl darted out of the house and chased after her friends. Their feet were silent as they raced through the woods. Aisling couldn’t hear them, even when they were right next to her home.

She whirled and glared at the cat sidhe sitting on her windowsill. “Do you want to tell me what that was about?”

“How can you like those things? They’re disgusting.” Lorcan jumped off the ledge, hit the ground with an audible thump, and waltzed through the hut like he owned the place. A bright white starburst on his chest caught the light, glimmering when he passed through a shadow.

“They’re cold and hungry. Do you expect them to wash in the stream just in case they might see you here?”

“It would be appreciated.”

“They aren’t here to see you.”

He sat and licked a paw. “Well they aren’t here for you either. They’re here for your ‘elixir,’ and that is the most ridiculous story I’ve ever heard.”

“It’s just a bit of fun.”

“And a lie.”

“It’s not a lie!” She tossed her hands in the air. “It’s just a tall tale to make them enjoy being here. There’s no harm in that.”

“Lying always comes back to bite you.”

“So you have told me for my entire life.” Lorcan had been with her through hardships unnumbered. Big yellow eyes with black slit pupils were her first memory when she woke up alone in the forest, not knowing her own name. She blew out a breath. “You said there was trouble?”

“The villagers cometh,” he said sarcastically. “They’re walking down the road right now. We should slip out the back.”

“I’d rather pretend to curse them. They’ll leave me alone for a little longer.”

“It’s not…that kind of trouble.” Lorcan set his paw down. “It’s the pitchfork and