Blood Reunion (Page 2)

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Toff combed his short, dark hair after a bath and readied himself for bed later. Honey-brown eyes examined his face in the mirror, searching for any sign of maturity. He still bore the full, rosy cheeks of a youngling instead of the more adult features Gren and the others wore so proudly. Gren, Haldis and Sark teased him constantly, calling him baby cheeks and taunting him, then asking if he wanted to run crying to his mother when Toff became angry. Toff was helpless against them—Gren was Half-Fae and had power. Haldis and Sark were humanoid and didn’t, but they stuck by Gren no matter what, laughing and encouraging the bully. Toff sighed and went to bed.

* * *

"Baby cheeks gets to crush grapes," Gren laughed the following morning as they made their way to the long, log building where Tiearan and some of the other adults instructed the young ones and made wine. "With the other babies," Gren couldn’t help adding, although Tiearan and Rain had walked into the building.

Autumn sunlight shone through the wide doorway, but Toff stood back from the square of light, watching dust motes dance in the early morning sun. Corent was off with another crew, harvesting apples. Trees were Corent’s strength—he could make a tree grow in a tenth of the normal time and the fruit that grew on his trees was the best quality. He sent bushels of apples every year to the Queen’s palace. Corent selected those himself and made sure they arrived in good condition.

Toff found himself wishing he could work with Corent. He didn’t mind crushing grapes and wanted more than anything to do the other chores for winemaking, but he was always relegated to the crush. Gren constantly made Toff ashamed of his work, though Tiearan always said that any job well done was a credit to the worker.

Tiearan’s long, gold hair was tied back that morning, and Rain’s dark hair was tucked in a bun on top of her head. Rain was Corent’s mother and always looked lovely. She seldom came to dinner at the house, though, and Toff often caught her throwing dark looks at Redbird. Toff had no idea why.

"Young ones, follow me, we will get the crush under way immediately," Tiearan smiled. He enjoyed making wine and had done it for years uncounted. He put power into the making and the result was a heady mix, according to some. Toff was still too young to be allowed to drink it, although Gren always bragged that his parents let him have a glass now and then.

Gren and the other, taller boys hauled the stems away after the grapes had been gently crushed by the younger children. Toff liked dipping his hands into the grapes, feeling the smooth, round skins in his fingers, squeezing them lightly as Tiearan had taught him. Tiearan said that leaving the pulp in at this stage left more of the fruit taste for later.

Eventually, the crushed grapes would be run through a press that some of the older ones would crank by hand. Toff would miss that stage—he would be sent to the fields to help gather hay and straw for the animals and the barns. School would also start in two or three weeks, depending upon the harvest. Redbird taught the younger ones—Toff had been in one of her classes when he was very small.

"I get to help Tiearan with the yeast," Gren sneered during lunch break. Tiearan employed power when he worked with the natural grape yeast, adjusting it here and there for consistent results. Tiearan was teaching Gren how to manipulate the natural yeast so the wine would turn out well.

Gren and the others who held Fae power attended additional classes that Toff could never experience. Toff and the others without power were sent off to help with this or that around the village, while the children with power were taught how to use what they had. It frustrated Toff greatly to be surrounded by something he could never do or lay claim to.

"Toff, ease up just a little, the grapes are not your enemy," Tiearan looked over Toff’s shoulder as he squeezed the grapes harder than he’d intended. Toff’s fingers were already stained and Redbird would have to use power later to clear it from his hands.

"Sorry, Father Tiearan." All the male Fae were called father, whether they were your father or not, while the female Fae were called mother. Toff had grown up with that and it was natural for him to address the Fae in that manner.

"We got these harvested just in time; frost is coming tomorrow," Rain came to stand beside Tiearan. Rain knew the weather in ways that none of the others could. Toff had learned early on why Corent’s hair predicted things—he got that from his Green Fae mother. Toff, on the other hand, couldn’t predict anything. He felt that absence with a sharpness he couldn’t describe at times.

Laral looked up at Toff as Tiearan and Rain moved away to supervise some of the younger ones. Laral had been Toff’s friend, once—the best one he’d had, but nowadays, Laral stayed away from Toff. Associating with Toff brought on Gren’s brutality, in one way or another. As a Half-Fae, Laral held a bit of power, but he had nothing compared to that which Gren possessed. Gren often preened in front of the others, because he received more of Tiearan’s attention than anyone else.

"I will be a winemaker one day, or help grow the trees," Gren had crowed to all of them on many occasions. The first time Gren bragged about growing the trees, Toff had snorted. It cost him a black eye and a bloody nose at the hands of Haldis and Sark.

Gren wouldn’t break the rule of nonviolence the Fae held—he just sent his humanoid bully buddies to do it for him. The humanoids didn’t always adhere to the Fae edict, and occasional fights broke out. Usually, Tiearan settled things—he was their leader, too. The humanoids in their village also ate meat, while the Fae didn’t. Redbird didn’t cook it, so Toff ate vegetables and grains with his foster family. He often smelled meat cooking on the human side of the village, however, and it smelled good. He just knew not to attempt to get any—Redbird would be offended and place another mind restraint. Toff hated those. His head would bother him for days afterward. She was always the one who did it, too. Corent never tried.

"It’s for your own good," she always told him. "You have to follow the rules, just as everyone else does." Toff wanted to ask her at times why Gren, Haldis and Sark weren’t held to those rules, but bit the words back before they could leave his mouth.

His foster parents cared for him, kept him clean, comfortable and well fed, even if they couldn’t save him from Gren or his followers. Redbird told him too, that he was loved. She said she’d loved him from the moment Tiearan had placed him in her arms as a tiny babe. Toff knew he should be grateful that they’d taken him in. His parents must have been awful, to abandon him like that.

Nobody ever said he’d been abandoned, but what else might have happened? Toff had been deserted as a baby and Tiearan had picked him up and handed him to his daughter. Yes, Tiearan, Head of the Green Fae village was Redbird’s father. Toff couldn’t even speculate what might have happened to him if Tiearan hadn’t come along.