Keith, Kat, and Benjamin were all sleeping in one room with Anne, Challe, and Mithril. Their quarters were no bigger than the fairies’ rooms and were set up the same way.
They had needed to ensure there was enough space, of course, but they’d also been concerned that, if the humans and fairies weren’t living in similar conditions, it might seem like their positions as candy crafters weren’t equal.
The room, crowded with three bunk beds, was now filled with the even breathing of sleeping humans and fairies.
Challe didn’t feel like dozing off just yet, so he wandered out into the garden. The evening breeze felt nice.
“Looks like the humans have you well trained.”
When Challe stopped to gaze at the half-moon, a contemptuous voice came from behind him.
He could sense someone approaching. Challe turned and saw Allele Cil May glaring at him. Unobstructed by clouds, the moonlight shone down so brightly that every blade of grass cast a shadow. It illuminated Allele’s indigo-colored hair so that it glistened fantastically, along with his intensely colored wing.
“Guess you and the other fairies who got here first are the human’s spoiled little pets, huh?”
Allele clearly understood that Challe and the other fairies had built up a relationship of trust with the humans in the castle. To him, however, this apparently looked like they had been “well trained.”
“We have an equal relationship with them,” Challe replied. “I have possession of my own wing. The human who once owned it returned it to me. I am here of my own volition.”
“Why don’t you run away, then?! Don’t you want to be free?!”
“I am free. No one can claim ownership of me.”
“Well, if you’re really free, then lend us a hand. Go to the fairy market and get our wings—”
“I told you this afternoon I will do no such thing. I would ruin this enterprise if I acted rashly.”
Anger flashed in Allele’s crimson eyes. He balled his hands, gritted his teeth, and groaned, “Shoulda known… You seem to think you’re free, but you’ve been trained to do what the humans want. Don’t you see that?”
“I know it looks as though I am taking the humans’ side.”
“It doesn’t just look that way—you really are!”
Allele shouted and pressed closer to Challe. His frustration was clear in his large eyes—more proof of his straightforward, honest temperament. Though he was shorter than Challe, Allele’s frame was more robust, and he seemed even larger due to his heightened emotions.
“How can you prioritize their plan over your people’s liberty?!”
He clenched his fists and took aim at Challe’s stomach, punching at him from below in an upward arc. Challe leaped back and dodged the blow, then caught Allele’s hand as the fairy’s second strike came flying at him. Allele pushed hard, but Challe won out.
“Dammit!” Allele spat, seething with rage. Feeling the difference in their strength, he withdrew his fists.
“Allele, think about what comes after you gain your freedom,” Challe said quietly.
“What did you say?”
“What if you take one step forward after you’re free and find you’ve just walked off a cliff? What then? Think about it.”
“I have thought about it! I’ll immediately go into hiding…”
Allele was about to say something else, but he made a sour face and fell silent.
“Do you have any sort of goal?” Challe asked, but Allele kept his mouth shut and shook his head.
“For now, we just want our liberty. If we can only get our freedom, then—”
“Then what, Allele?”
As the other fairy stood there frowning, Challe turned and walked away.
He understood Allele’s feelings so well that it hurt.
When he was kept in chains, enslaved at the hands of fairy dealers, Challe had wished for nothing but liberty. The only thing he could think about was escaping from his human captors.
But now that he’d met Anne and all sorts of other humans, as well as the silver sugar fairy Lulu, he had learned that one needed to consider what came after freedom.
Even if Challe had found an opening to strike down his captor and had gained his freedom, he probably wouldn’t have become the fairy he was now. He might have turned out like Lafalle. And if he had lived that way, he might never have given any thought to the future. He would have spent his life running, fighting, and wandering the wastelands, trying to avoid recapture.
That was certainly a kind of freedom. But there was no hope and no future in it. And in a sense, that made it no different from being enslaved.
Challe sighed as he went back inside the castle. Judging from Allele’s attitude, it would probably be impossible to convince the fairies with shallow displays of good will.
I wonder how much their hearts will be swayed by meeting Noah.
It was the third morning after the fairies’ arrival at Hollyleaf Castle.
The sun streamed in through a gap in the curtains, rousing Anne. The room around her was still quiet. Everyone had been worn out the night before, and she could hear them all breathing peacefully in their sleep.
Anne began changing behind one of the curtains, trying not to wake the others up. Even as she dressed, the plight of the fairies weighed on her mind.
If this keeps up, we won’t be able to select anyone.
In two months’ time, the fairies would have to convince the candy crafters from the other factions that they had the makings of silver sugar fairies. With how things were going, though, she and the others wouldn’t even be able to select the most suitable fairies, much less train them. Anne felt hopeless.
The fairies were just as unmotivated as before, but Anne and the others had to keep trying. The previous day, they had directed the fairies to continue working, but the results were no different from the first day. And now they had to repeat the same exercise again, already sure of the outcome.
As things stood, she and the other crafters wouldn’t be able to choose a single fairy to train. After taking such pains to gather candidates, they would end up returning them all to the market.
Just then, Anne heard a faint sound.
“Singing?”
She paused and strained her ears. The sound was so soft, it had nearly been lost under the noise of the wind blowing outside the window.
It was a song that had circulated widely around the kingdom, often sung at country festivals. The lyrics, as Anne remembered them, described a girl in love searching for sugar apples to give to her beloved. It was a simple but charming tune.
To get the object of her affection to look her way, the girl in the song wants sugar candy that is said to grant good fortune. However, the candy crafter she talks to shakes his head and tells her he has no silver sugar, so he cannot make the confection. The girl goes looking for sugar apples and receives a handful of them from a fairy she encounters in the woods.
The singer’s voice was low, yet cheerful and clear; she could tell it belonged to a man. However, it didn’t sound like he was performing for an audience. It felt like he was singing to himself during a solitary moment of rest, thinking back on enjoyable times from the past.
It sounds like Mama’s singing.
Though the singer was male, his rendition of the tune reminded her of how her mother, Emma, would sing. When they camped while traveling from place to place, Emma would stay awake by herself to mind the campfire, even as Anne fell asleep beside it. The singing reminded Anne of the songs Emma would sing as she tended the flames with a wooden stick or tossed new logs into the fire.
Anne looked out the window, trying to see where the voice was coming from, and saw a slender figure in the front yard of the castle.
The man had a small traveling bag dangling from one arm and was dressed in the sort of jacket and pants that crafters wore, though they were a little too long for him. On his back was a single, cute little wing that came down to about his waist. He was holding his purple hair with one hand to keep it from getting tossed by the breeze and straining his ears, as if trying to hear the quiet singing.
“Noah!”
Automatically, Anne shouted his name. Then she leaped out from behind the curtain and took off running. As she left the room, she caught sight of the others waking up. But she was too happy to care about that.
She dashed through the hallway and down the stairs, then opened the front door.
“Noah!”
When she called his name again, the fairy broke into a smile and looked at Anne. Then he dropped his bag where he was standing in the middle of the yard and ran toward her at full speed, slamming into her and hugging her tight.
“Anne! I’m here!”
She embraced him in turn. “What a surprise! Why are you so early?!”
“Mr. Collins told me to come. A letter arrived from Kat last night, and Mr. Collins arranged for a carriage right away. He said the road was safe enough, so the carriage traveled straight through the night. Oh, here. He gave me a letter.”
Noah pulled away from Anne and dug around in his pocket. He produced a single sealed envelope and handed it to her.
Kat had sent his letter to Elliott the previous day. He’d explained their current situation and expressed a desire for Noah to work with them at the castle for a while. Elliott had responded immediately.
Anne opened the letter and discovered it was incredibly brief: I understand your situation. Please look after our apprentice for a while.
Elliott never did anything wasteful. He’d needed to get the letter out quickly, so he’d written only the bare minimum. Still, from how he referred to Noah as “our apprentice,” Anne could tell that he was looking after Noah in his own way.