After the first five minutes, the lecture all started to blur together. The headmistress' face turned redder and redder as she paced and ranted in front of me. I should have left earlier. I should have taken note of the wind. I should not have gone so far. I put myself in danger. I put my sisters in danger, because they had to search for me before the storm had gotten so bad they retreated to the temple.
I sat in the uncomfortable, wooden chair, nodding and apologizing. I said I had found an abandoned cottage and I waited out the storm there. I told myself it wasn't even quite a lie. I had always been good at that, whether I wanted to be or not, finding the thread between truth and lie and walking along it.
Besides, it made more sense than believing the hazy, dreamy memories of a sharp-eared fae who kissed me and turned my blood to fire. I moved my tongue around my mouth and tasted him still. And, hidden inside one sleeve, I felt the lone tendril trembling against my arm. I wondered if they got cold. Or if they needed to eat.
What would a magic tendril eat? Dew drops? Wild berries?
Surely not bland porridge and bitter tea.
"Are you even listening, Tiffany?"
"Yes, headmistress."
"Then what did I just say?"
"Of course I'll take on extra chores to repay my sisters for worrying them and putting them at risk," I guessed at and recited my own punishment.
I looked up in time to see her face turn an impossibly darker shade. At least that meant I guessed right.
.
I spent the next several days scrubbing the filthiest of plates and floors. The work that involved being bent over so long I could barely stand straight at night. The tendril peeked out from my sleeve in the dark. Its glowing presence was the only thing assuring me I hadn't dreamed up Ichor. I whispered to the tendril that it could return to the others but it only twisted around my finger or zipped back into my robes. It twisted around or burrowed through the bites of food I tried to sneak it. But it seemed to be playing more than eating. I stopped offering after I got in additional trouble for the crumbs scattered around my cot.
.
The wooden carrying pole rubbed against the back of my neck, the empty pails on each end swinging back and forth. The day wasn't too warm but I could tell the way back would be miserable. I looked down my sleeve at the blue glow.
"Go on ahead to the river and play," I whispered, "I'll follow."
The tendril shot out and vanished into the greenery straight ahead. I shoved my way through the bramble to the sound of water. A tiny, familiar chorus of noises were nearly drowned out. I finally yanked the buckets and pole through the tangled branches and vines. A mess of glowing tendrils all rattled and twisted together, then apart. Then I heard my name. Ichor stood in the river, his pants rolled up to his knees and his shirt laying on the grass.
"Oh, hi," The greeting came out awkwardly.
My eyes betrayed me and roamed over his body. I had felt him in the dark, but seeing his body was different. For as inhuman as his hair and eyes and ears were, his torso was that of a powerful man. Or, more like a marble sculpture of one. Water glistened on the hard lines defining his muscles. I closed my eyes tight to regain control and opened them just as Ichor's smile somehow turned more devious.
"I take it you're not here to fish with me?"
I shook my head and walked ahead, dropping the pails down on the river edge. I sat down with an exhausted sigh and pulled off my leather slippers so I could put my feet in the cool water. Ichor's steps splashed through the water as he came to stand in front me. He leaned forward when I looked up and kissed me lightly on the forehead.
"I missed you," The words tumbled out and I bit down on my cheek too late to stop them.
"Can we pretend I didn't say that?" I begged at his smiling face.
"Definitely not."
His hands brushed my hair away from my face.
"I missed you, too."
"Why?"
"Why did you miss me?"
I shrugged and wished I hadn't said it at all. Even if it did feel true.
"Why didn't you ask the tendril to bring you to the cottage?"
"I'm in enough trouble as it is. I've been doing nonstop chores. I barely have time to sleep."
I looked at my palms, red and sore from laboring, and leaned forward to dunk them in the water. Ichor took one and looked at it with a worried expression.
"There's a salve I could make you for this."
"No, they'll find it, I won't be able to explain, and it'll make more trouble."
"Hm. How long will they spend punishing you for your inability to control a storm?"
I shrugged and winced, "Until the headmistress decides my punishment ends."
"And you're willingly going to go back to these people?"
Ichor didn't fight me when I pulled my hand out of his grip and returned it to the water.