Bee Stung

by Theolyn Boese

  Chapter Two

  Rienne put the first two pans of rolls in the oven and set the timer. She hummed softly as she wiped down the counter. It had been tricky timing the rising of the bread dough so she could stagger the rolls in the oven to keep them from sitting out too long. The peach-apricot pull-apart was the first thing to go into the oven and should be out soon. Then she could put the final two pans of honey rolls in. “I like these glass baking dishes you got. I might get a set if things go well here.”

  Cass was sitting at the table looking at the newspaper. “Yeah, Dar insists I use glass to cook anything for the get-togethers. Dunno why though. There aren’t a whole lot of ads in here,” she muttered. “I think town gossip will be more helpful for finding work than this thing.” She tossed it at Rienne. “How important is it for you to start working immediately?”

  “Oh, I have some cushion, but I don’t want to live off my savings for too long. Last fall’s harvest sold really well. The price of honey has gone up in the past few years. Most beekeepers are hurting because the majority of their income comes from renting hives. I never did much of that, so any money I made from renting them out went into savings.” She tossed the dishcloth in the sink and opened the paper. “Once the house sells, I’ll be in better shape. Finding a job isn’t that big a deal, really. I generally don’t have a ton of income this time of year, so I’ve managed to figure out a monthly budget. It’s paying rent plus the mortgage until the house sells that I’m worried about.”

  “How did you make enough money if you weren’t renting your hives out like everyone else?” Cass asked curiously.

  “My honey is very high quality, and I got a lot of orders from specialty stores and restaurants. I don’t know if I’ll be able to fill my orders this year. I think I’ll call and tell them I lost several hives to CCD, colony collapse disorder, and may have smaller amounts than usual. I can probably fill some of the orders with the leftover honey from last year. I’ll have a better idea once Helja brings the rest of my inventory and stuff.”

  She looked at the small list of ads. One caught her eye, and she read it carefully. “Here’s one for a housekeeper and cook.”

  “Really? Wonder how I missed it.” Cass stretched and got another glass of ice tea. “What’s it say?”

  “Um, cleaning, cooking, and some light yard work.” Rienne looked up at her cousin. “It says room and board plus wages.”

  The taller woman snorted. “Sounds more like they want to hire a wife than a housekeeper. Is there a name?”

  “Just a phone number.”

  Cass shrugged. “Well let’s ask around at the pub tonight. If nothing turns up, you can call about the job tomorrow.”

  “Okay. It sounds about perfect, but we can wait on it.” Rienne flopped into a chair and tilted her head back. She closed her eyes and sighed. “When did you start cooking so much? I didn’t think you knew how to make bread.”

  “Well, I’ve been broadening my horizons since we moved. There’s not much else for me to do. I’m not working, and Dar is gone during the day, so I decided to try out some of the things I was interested in and didn’t have time for when I lived in Portland.”

  “That’s cool. Sorrow really likes your porch,” she said without opening her eyes. The parrot had been flying from chair to chair and chortling with glee over all the space she had to play in. Rienne put out several of Sorrow’s favorite toys as well as plenty of food and fresh water.

  “It’s a great room,” Cass agreed. “I’m thinking about using it for plants and stuff. Dar was hinting he would like a garden. Not that I know much about gardening.”

  “Mmm, if I stay I’ll show you how. I would love to have a garden, so I’d help out.” She yawned widely behind her hand. “Sorry about that.”

  “No worries, honey. Why don’t you go crash on the couch for an hour or so? I’ll finish the rolls for you.”

  Rienne sat up and opened her eyes. “You don’t mind?”

  “Nope, you look like you could use a nap. I’ll wake you in plenty of time to leave and won’t let you sleep too long.” Cass smiled and waved her toward the living room. “There’s no point in driving back to the cabin and then back here again.”

  She smiled gratefully and took her cousin up on the offer. “Thank you, I’m really tired.” A few moments later she was curled up on the couch with a crocheted afghan pulled over her. Even with her lids closed, her eyes felt gritty from lack of sleep. The sound of birdsong lulled her gently to sleep.

  * * * *

  Thistle looked at the old house in dismay. Climbing roses had escaped their lattices and taken over one whole side of the structure. The vines were liberally sprinkled with brown dead heads, withered leaves, and huge black-spotted hips that hadn’t been harvested. The bottom five feet of the house were built from local stone laboriously carried from the surrounding beaches. The rest of the three-story domicile was wood. It was painted a warm buttery yellow, which went well with the natural gray of the stones. The stones and part of the wood were covered with patches of the vibrant green algae-like moss that was common to their perpetually damp area. The stuff was a pain in the ass to get off and usually required bleach, scrub brushes, and large amounts of muscle.

  Shade trees grew tall along three sides of the property, providing relief from summer sun and protection from the wind. Dead weeds had fallen over in soggy, sickly gray piles that moldered on the stone walkways. The wraparound porch had some alarming sags in it.

  He buzzed around the outside. It was a large house, by human standards, far too large for a single woman. It was also one of the oldest on the island, which made it over three hundred years old.

  He remembered his father saying this house was used for multiple purposes. The island healers had used it, before the clinic had been built. Town meetings had been held there. Sometimes it had been a boarding house. Part of the wood the house was built with was from the ship that had carried his people here.

  He flew up to the top of the attached conservatory. Several of the glass panels had been broken while the house stood empty. He landed on a support beam and peered inside. A wild profusion of freely growing plants created a small, enclosed jungle. Seeing the immediate area was clear, he fell in and hovered.

  The pebbled walkways were mostly clear, if overhung with flora and dead leaves. Hearing water flowing smoothly over stones, he darted toward the back. A small waterfall filled a large man-made pond. The gentle steam and faint scent of sulfur told him it was a natural hot spring. He dipped a hand in the clear, hot water. I wonder how it drains, he thought idly. The pond was paved with nature-smoothed rocks and had several benches built into it. Deciding to see how deep it was later, he flew out of the greenhouse to continue his explorations, mentally making lists of supplies that would be needed for repairs.

  Sections of the eastern wall had thick, bubbly glass bricks set into them. The bricks formed pyramids of two bricks with a third centered on top. They would let in light without compromising the inhabitants’ privacy. There were eight rows of the bricks going across the wall, with three more sets under the top pyramid. He couldn’t see anything inside the house even when he pressed his face against the bricks. Shrugging, he returned to the front of the house. He noted the fence around the unkempt garden was still in good shape but could use a good washing and fresh coat of paint.

  “How long has it been empty now?” Dandy asked as he scrubbed a layer of grime off one of the windows and peered inside.

  Thistle paused for a moment to admire the sleek flex of muscle outlined by Dandy’s tight pants before peering over his shoulder. “About ten years if I remember correctly. No one wanted it after the last owner passed on. I think a few of the dryads came by every few months to check for damage, but that was about it.”

  There were many empty houses on the island. The creatures that had fled there so long ago had been declining in population for over a century now. There just wasn’t enough magic to keep them all healthy. Not enough chi
ldren had been born in the Destin family, the last remaining line of Mystics.

  Some had died. Some had faded, and some had locked themselves in sleep, hoping that the family would grow strong again and produce more of the energy the magic races need to survive.

  The Mystics were a separate race from both human and fey. They looked human and bred with humans, but weren’t fertile with the fey races. Once there had been many Mystic families, but they had been decimated during the centuries-long witch hunts in Europe. Now, only one line remained; the Destins. They had escaped to the new country along with a small group of fey and other magical creatures, hoping to hide from the madness sweeping across Europe. Spells had been put in place on the island once they found it. The spells used most of the earth magic generated but gave them a portion of protection against discovery.

  Thistle turned his attention back to the house they were inspecting. The room they looked into was filled with cloth-covered furniture. Dust grayed every surface and collected in huge balls on the floor. “We should talk to the council. I think they’d let her stay here.” He took his smallest form and wiggled in through a gap in the doorjamb. “Come on. Let’s see what else needs to be done.”

  “It’s a good location. Near the clan and only a mile or two from Dar’s house. I think she’d like to be close to her cousin.” Dandy seemed very pleased with himself. “Do you think she’ll like us? I hope she does.”

  Thistle shrugged. Since he hadn’t even seen the woman, he couldn’t form an opinion. He was a little worried about the moony-eyed look Dandy got when he mentioned her, though.

  They wandered through the rooms, poking at things and peeking under the dustcovers. “Looks like the spells to keep vermin out held,” Thistle said. “I don’t even see a spider.”

  “What do you think this is?” Dandy asked from another room.

  Thistle joined him. It was a long hallway with eight small doors built into the wall near the ceiling. Three normal-sized doors filled the wall on the opposite side and Thistle knew they led to some of the bedroom suites in the house. The hall was painted light blue. The trim and doors were a pale golden wood desperately in need of polishing. Ten-inch shelves, also constructed of the same golden wood, were built under each door. “I don’t know. Storage, maybe?” Thistle eyed the small doorknobs. They were the right size for his hands but tiny for a human. He landed on a shelf and reached for one, but Dandy stopped him.

  “What are you doing?” his friend asked nervously, landing beside him.

  “I was going to see if there is anything inside.”

  “It’s not our house,” Dandy muttered, his wings buzzing with agitation.

  Thistle stopped and took a closer look at his friend. “It’s no one’s home now. Who is there to be upset if I looked in a closet?”

  Dandy’s wings buzzed again. He stepped back. “I was just remembering the last witch who lived here didn’t like the small fey much. Some disappeared after she took residence. What if they are prisons or traps?”

  Thistle sighed. His purple-and-green butterfly wings pumped the air behind him with slow, calming strokes. “The last witch who lived here didn’t like anyone. It was mutual as well. No one came to her for syrups or simples. She wasn’t invited to anyone’s home or the gatherings. I’ve often wondered why she came here at all and why she stayed. But, if she was killing or imprisoning anyone, don’t you think Shiloh would have known? Besides, these look like part of the original house, not added later.”

  Dandy nodded reluctantly. “I suppose so.”

  Thistle smiled reassuringly. The knob twisted smoothly under his hand, and he opened the door cautiously and peered inside. “Oh my.”

  Dandy perked up, his apprehension obviously giving way to curiosity. “What is it?”

  Thistle peeked back at Dandy and smiled mischievously. “I thought you didn’t want to know.”

  The other fey glowered at him.

  “Look.” Thistle opened the door wide, watching Dandy’s face. His friend’s jaw dropped, and his eyes rounded in shock.

  “This is an apartment,” Dandy breathed. “It’s the right size for us!”

  They stepped inside what appeared to be a living room. Like the rest of the house, dustcloths covered the furniture. Sunshine poured in through the grimy glass blocks Thistle had noted from the outside. Now their presence made perfect sense. The room was comfortably warm, making him wonder how it was heated, since the temperature outside was in the low sixties. The musty scent of disuse was strong in the air.

  He noted the small fireplace and chimney against the wall that would be shared with the apartment next door. Turning in a slow circle, he took it all in. Noting a staircase leading down in a corner, he decided to check it out. Stepping down carefully, he tested each step to be sure they were still sound before putting his full weight on them. The area was too narrow for him to catch himself with his wings if the stairs broke.

  The second floor had a wall with two more doors and another downward-leading stair. A quick investigation showed the two rooms to be bedrooms. The furniture was intact with the exception of linens and mattress. Both rooms opened into a small sitting room before leading into the bedchamber. A brass bar with rings stretching across the top of the inner doorway made him think curtains had been strung across it for privacy.

  The two bedrooms shared one of the glass brick pyramids he had noted outside, the top divided by the wall between the rooms. Seeing a gleam of brass at the edge of one window, he took a closer look. It served as both a latch and a handle that allowed the glass brick to swivel open, allowing fresh air to flood the room. Shaking his head in amazement over the meticulous craftsmanship, he shut the window and checked the next floor.

  By the time Dandy joined him, they had found two more floors containing two bedrooms each and a storage room filled with shelves and very old pottery bowls, pots and jars. The final floor did not have any windows in it, and Thistle had been forced to create a small ball of icy blue magical light.

  “Have you ever heard even a rumor that this was here?” Dandy asked in a hushed voice as they made a quick tour of the other eight apartments.

  “No,” Thistle replied. “I don’t think any of us were alive when the house was built. We could ask around when we go to the pub. Shiloh or Declan might remember.” He grasped Dandy’s hand and pulled him through the rest of the house. It wasn’t really as bad inside as it was outside. “I think we could fix it up very easily. She’d need new linens and things like that, but I would imagine she has her own if she was planning on moving here.”

  “Do you think she’d mind us living with her?” Dandy asked wistfully. “It would be nice to have someone around who could run one of those big washing machines like Dar has.” He loved the idea of washing all their clothes at once, but the metal machines made his bones ache.

  Thistle chuckled. “If we had some way of paying her wages, I’d ask.” He went back to the first apartment and pounced on Dandy the moment he cleared the door. “I believe we were going to discuss my ass at some point,” he murmured. He grasped Dandy’s long braid and then wrapped around his wrist several times. Using his grip, he pulled the other fey’s head back. He licked slowly up Dandy’s exposed throat as the other man grabbed his hips for balance.

  Dandy groaned. “True, but I think I might be more interested in another part of your anatomy right now.” He deftly pulled free. “But, I also think I’d rather wait until you’ve bathed,” he added with an impish smile and darted out of the room.

  Thistle growled as his cheeks grew warm, and took off after Dandy, who was well ahead of him and already at the gap in the doorjamb.

  “Race you to the hot spring!” Dandy stuck his tongue out and wiggled it before disappearing outside. By the time Thistle followed, all he could see was a glowing dot speeding in the direction of the spring, faint, tinkling laughter following it.

  He was completely out of breath by the time he arrived, and there was no sign of Dandy. He huffed ou
t a frustrated breath and started stripping out of his soiled clothing. He dug into a small hidden shelf of stone to get a handful of the soft, natural soap the small fey used for cleaning and bathing and then set about washing his clothing. It only took a few minutes and a touch of magic to lift the dirt out of the weave. That chore finished, he draped the clothing over some branches to dry and dived into the warm water.

  Unlike butterflies, he didn’t have to worry about getting his wings wet. The water would roll right off them after he exited the spring. After digging out another handful of soap, he used it to vigorously wash his skin and hair. He couldn’t help a few sighs of pleasure as the sensation of being clean soothed him. He had not realized how grimy he felt until he was clean.

  Foxglove showed up, arms weighed down by baskets of dirty clothes, right about the time he was finishing. Without waiting to be asked, Thistle grabbed half and plunged them into the water and started scrubbing.

  “How did the house look?” Foxglove asked casually as he stripped to his skin and jumped into the water. He pulled the rest of the clothes in after him.

  “You bathe,” Thistle ordered as he slopped extra soap on all the clothes. He grew to his largest size once the other man was far enough away and started kneading the whole mess of clothing at once. “The porch and grounds need some work,” he said thoughtfully. “The house looks good. Although, it needs a thorough cleaning.” He checked the clothing and went back to scrubbing, adding a touch more magic to loosen a few stubborn stains. “Didn’t want to heat the hot water, huh?”

  “Oh I heated enough for baths, but thought it would just be easier to do the clothes here since everyone wanted one. The spring is warm enough for a good soak, and I didn’t feel like waiting in line for one of the tubs.” Foxglove ducked under the water to rinse and reached for more soap. “Where’s Dandy?” His curly purple-red hair was pulled straight from the weight of the water.

  “He was going to meet me here, but I don’t know where he took off to.” Thistle wrung the water out of the clothes and started draping them over branches and bushes once he finished rinsing them. He returned to his midsize and relaxed into the warm water. He absently admired Foxglove’s athletic body as the slightly taller man swam laps. It had been a long time since he’d seen his friend so relaxed. He truly hoped the woman Dandy had spoken of was the miracle they’d prayed for. It was hard to not get caught up in Dandy’s excitement.