“Ow!” I tried to swat them away, but Kingfisher caught me by the wrist. “I wouldn't. They're drunk. They get mean when they're drunk.” “I'm a thousand times bigger than them. I could crush—Ahh!” I hissed, pulling my hand away from the cloud of fluttering menaces. There, right on the heel of my palm, was a perfect oval welt. A bead of blood rose up from the tiny wound, shining like a tiny ruby. “A bite? Is that a bite mark?” I held out my hand for Fisher to see, but he didn't even look. “Not only do they get mad when you try to smash them out of the air, but they speak Common Fae and take
...more
⚜️🦋
