Project Fae (snippet)

This is not the final version, just an early draft

I hate market days. Mama and Father had their own stand of produce and fresh eggs to run, which meant I was given the list of groceries we needed and tasked with the chore of buying everything, which is a lot to put on the shoulders of a seventeen-year-old.

“Never agree to the original price,” Father reminds me as Mama arranges the produce around the booth. “Always bargain for a better deal.”

I nod, struggling to focus. There’s an ant in my shoe, I'm certain of it.

“Elena?” Father snaps to get my attention. “The money?”

“Never agree to the original price,” I reply, trying not to squirm. Bartering is not my strong suit, it requires too much talking.

“Wonderful,” he pats me on the shoulder. I smile, glad to have pleased him.

“Fix your hair, Elena,” Mama reminds me.

I nod, taking my hair, which is thick like my father’s and had been put in minuscule braids, and parting it into two larger braids. My father has skin as dark as the soil he sows seeds in. Mama has skin as pale as the clean clouds above us. I’m somewhere in the middle, not completely matching either of them, although my clothes are all hand-me-downs that no longer fit Mama. Sometimes I feel like I’m walking in someone else's skin, a fact made worse by my lack of social prowess and real friends.

Mama gives me a smile of approval when I’m done fixing my hair. She plants a kiss atop my head.

“You’ve got this, Elena,” she says gently.

I sigh, wishing her comforts would work. “Right.”

I double-check that the money pouch is securely tied to my belt and leave the comfort of our booth, stepping into the growing crowds of market day.

My first destination is the herb stand. It’s run by a lady, Fauna, who lives two villages over. She has a lush garden of every herb, spice, and flower I have ever heard of. It’s one of my favorite market day booths, so I always try to start there. Once I’ve bartered and bought from Fauna, I begin heading to the farmers from Nillav for corn and tomatoes, delicacies we don’t have here. I’m halfway there when I catch eyes with a stranger.

I would normally look away as quickly as I could, but something in his gaze kept me from looking away. I stopped dead in my tracks, which gave me a good chance to take him in. He must have been from one of the other villages because I’d never seen him before. He seemed to be only a few years older than I was, but based on the coat he wore, he came from a wealthier family. The coat was a deep blue with bronze colored thread embroidered around its edges. His dark hair was also freshly cleaned, something most villagers couldn’t maintain. It was his dark eyes and serious face that took my focus, however. His eyes never strayed from mine, nor did his face betray any emotion.

Eventually, I blink, breaking the spell and taking another step towards the farmer’s table I was headed towards before getting distracted, ignoring the stranger as I walk past him.

“Twelve ears and six tomatoes,” I tell Betram, the farmer’s son who’s working the booth today. “Thank you.”

He puts them in a woven bag his mother made and holds it out for me. “Fourteen coins.”

I’m still shaken from the weird staring with the stranger, so I don’t remember to barter on the price. “Right, thanks.”

I turn back towards the crowd, and to my relief, the strange boy is gone. I breathe a sigh of relief and head to the other booths I needed to visit. Six booths later, my arms are full of goods that I’m half-convinced they’ll drop everything any second. Instead of heading to my parents’ booth, however, I head for the bakers from Clevenia. Mama lets me use the leftover coins for flour and paste for my baking.

The Clevenia table is typically located at the end of the marketplace, where the crowds are thickest. It’s my worst nightmare, but the paste and flour are enough of a draw for me to push through the masses.

I’ve just stepped around a large man and am about to step towards the booth when I see him again. He’s standing at the baker’s booth, but he isn’t looking at the products displayed on the table. He’s staring straight at me from across the way, and I can suddenly see he isn’t a man. He’s Fae.

Large, bird-like wings sprout from his back, but no one else seems to notice. Something hums within me. I take it as a warning and start running back towards the other end of the marketplace, careful not to lose any of the groceries I’d collected.

“A Fae was watching me.” The thought keeps ringing in my head. It can’t be anything good.