Emily Wilde's Encyclopaedia of Faeries (Emily Wilde, #1)

by Heather Fawcett

I would not be visiting Loabær, for one does not find the Folk in cities, but in the remote, forgotten corners of the world.

Ljosland is the most isolated of the Scandinavian countries,

Brownies are solitary and are generally those faeries who involve themselves in mortal affairs—thefts, minor curses, blessings. Trooping fae travel in groups and keep mostly to their own.”

we place all humanlike faeries into the category of courtly fae—you understand, then, that there are two main groupings of Folk, courtly and common.

The Folk were of another world, with its own rules and customs—and to a child who always felt ill-suited to her own world, the lure was irresistible.

avoided the metal objects

(the Folk are, to a one, left-handed).

royal ancestry—they are the only Folk able to bear the touch of such human workings.

If he is Folk, he likely lives among us in exile, a not uncommon fate to befall the aristocracy of the Irish fae—their

I felt that familiar rush of excitement as I contemplated the field in question: before me lay uncharted scientific territory, and I the only explorer for miles. It is in moments like this that I fall in love with my profession all over again.

“I missed you, Em,” he said. “It was strange not having you across the hall, scowling at me.”

he truly did see us as colleagues rather than competitors.

these Hidden Ones are regarded with scepticism by even the most open-minded of scholars. But, as I’ve always argued, the fact that the Folk are absent in other regions of Arctic and sub-Arctic Europe cannot be taken as evidence of their absence in every winter country.”

He should have looked away, counting to ten or focusing on his breathing or other mundane distraction, but of course he has no experience in evading the tricks of the Folk.

“I wish to accomplish two objectives—firstly, to identify the species of Folk that dwell here, and second, to describe their interactions with the mortal inhabitants.”

Changelings are monstrous offspring produced by the courtly fae, weak and sickly creatures who bring misfortune upon a household for as long as they remain there, but they are not vicious or malevolent.

To kill a changeling is to kill the child it has replaced. They are always bound together by a powerful enchantment that neither time nor distance can dispel.

Mortal gifts strengthen faeries, be they food or jewels, but clothes have a particular power, in that they help the Folk bind themselves to the mortal world, and, in the case of the courtly fae, their mortal guises.

If you do not admit kindness from others, you cannot be surprised when they fail to offer any.”

Offerings are left for them, most often in the form of food; those with wealth and status are expected to leave trinkets, with mirrors and singing boxes being especially favoured.

Their courts move with the snows, and they dwell for much of the year in the mountainous north and interior of the country, where winter never rests. They love music and hold elaborate balls in the wilderness, particularly upon frozen lakes, and if you hear their song drifting on the icy wind, you must stop your ears or burst into song yourself, or be drowned by it and swept insensible into their realm.

Until recently, the village had not lost anyone to their bizarre vampirism in more than twenty winters. Their stories reflect this; it is said in many villages in the south and west of Ljosland that the “tall ones” take from every generation one youth (naturally this youth is said to be of surpassing beauty and/or talent, particularly musical talent, a feature that will not surprise scholars even superficially versed in folklore).

faeries often aid mortals in roundabout ways, and their generosity is instantly turned to vengefulness if their gifts are unappreciated.)

The

repetitive elements in a story remings me of the folklores in nusantara

white tree that drove the girl mad is the same tree from the tale of the whaler, which held a faerie king.

he obtained his doctorate by means of faerie enchantment, so difficult is it to imagine him applying himself to anything resembling work.

But then my hand clenched reflexively on the copper coin I carried in my pocket—it’s something I’ve practiced many times whenever a faerie has tried to bewitch me.

“You can’t reveal to me that you’re Folk—it must have been part of the enchantment that exiled you from your world.

“Oh, God,” he moaned. “She wants to discuss theory at a moment like this. I am doomed, aren’t I?”

“We cannot all be made of stone and pencil shavings,”

Loll the banterrr

what is the point of decorating a place one is only temporarily inhabiting?

I have a feeling because he doesnt have a home

“either you are plotting how best to have me murdered and stuffed for one of your exhibits, or you are still concerned that I am bewitched.

He is so funny. I literally lolled

“The oíche sidhe,” I said, naming the Irish house fairie who, like many of their ilk, operate as a sort of friendly housekeeper,

oíche sidhe disdain for mess and disorder.

In the tales of the Folk, regardless of origin, no victory or loss is ever certain. There is always a loophole, a door that you may find, if you are clever enough, to lead you out. To twist the story.

Loopholes , trickery

I miss my home very much. I cannot return while my stepmother lives, obviously. She won’t have it, nor will her allies at court. So my only way back is by taking the throne, by making myself so powerful that they cannot be rid of me again.”

most Folk don’t know much more than you do, because we don’t care. Why would we? The laws of nature are too easily altered by those with magic enough to do so. Nothing stays the same. Worlds may drift apart or dissolve or become the same place, like overlapping shadows…But we know there are secret ways, forgotten ways, into our worlds. As you say, back doors.

Our paper can repair my career and fill my pockets enough to search the rest of the continent.”

“The Folk cannot be understood. They live in accordance to whims and fancies and are little more than a series of contradictions. They have traditions, jealously guarded, but they follow them erratically. We can catalogue them and document their doings, but most scholars agree that true understanding is impossible.”

Just like humans

“If something is impossible, you cannot be terrible at it.”

“You are not so terrible, Em. You merely need friends who are dragons like you.”

Ireland has seven realms, including the better-known Silva Rosis. But Silva Lupi—the forest of wolves—is a realm of shadow and monsters. It is the only one of the Irish realms to exist solely in story—not for lack of interest, of course; a number of scholars have disappeared into its depths.

But I was also not someone who would put glory before discovery, empty praise before enlightenment.

He reached a hand out and snapped the neck of the faerie gripping me, which I had not expected,

Touch her and you die trope???

I have seen Wendell angry before, but this was something that seemed to surge through him like lightning, threatening to burn everything in its path.

A king or queen of Faerie, the stories say, can tap into the power of their realm. Yet that power, while vast, is not thought to be limitless; there are tales of kings and queens falling for human trickery.

My coronation was promptly followed by an assassination attempt—and then, you see, my dear stepmother forced me to flee to the mortal world.”

I suppose that when one spends their career working towards a goal, constructing all sorts of fantasies about what that goal will look and feel like, one is left a little senseless when the scaffolding comes crashing down around them.

hope you don’t mind that I didn’t dislodge you when you slumped against me in sleep, your head coming to rest on my shoulder. No, silly me; of course you’ll mind, but perhaps I don’t care.

Almost every species of Folk disdains human metals, yet the Irish fae are unique in their ability to tolerate—and, indeed, to love—silver.