Free Poison Fruit by Jacqueline Carey

grown into very much. You’re determined and brave and loyal. But you’ll always be that impetuous, hot-tempered hell-spawn toddler I first knew, too, and I’ll always worry about you. You’ll just have to live with it. You and your mother are the first mortals I let myself care about in a long, long time.”
    It’s kind of hard to argue with a declaration like that, especially when you’re a bit misty-eyed.
    “Thanks,” I said. “And I’ll be careful. I promise. Anyway, you don’t have to worry about Stefan anytime soon. Like I said, he’s off on some mysterious errand in Poland.” I strapped my messenger bag across my chest. “And I’m off hunting a Night Hag.”
    “Good luck,” she said.
    “Thanks,” I said again. At the door, a thought struck me, and Iturned back in curiosity. “By the way, what were you and those undines singing?”
    “Naiads,” Lurine corrected me. “They’re prickly little bitches, but they can sing. It was a hymn to Helios.”
    “Really?” I don’t know why it surprised me. It’s not like I ever forgot what Lurine was , but I guess sometimes I lost sight of exactly what it meant, and where and when she came from.
    There was a faraway look in her eyes. “Some of us try to keep the old traditions alive, Daisy. At least when we can.” Her gaze returned from the distance. “Off-season is the only time I can greet the dawn properly.”
    “It was beautiful,” I said honestly. “Truly.”
    “Thank you.” Lurine smiled, looking genuinely pleased. “Sorry about accidentally luring you into the lake.”
    I shrugged. “Totally worth it.”
    “Don’t mention it to your mother.”
    “I won’t.”

Nine
    B ack in my car, I checked my phone and saw I had a text from Sinclair inviting me to attend his ritual tattooing at noon today, which was perfect. Well, mostly perfect. If you wanted to talk to one of the fey, especially a nature elemental, without spending hundreds of dollars on cowslip dew, Sinclair Palmer was the man to see. He ran Pemkowet Supernatural Tours, and thanks to the generous support of the Oak King, there were almost always nature fairies along his route.
    Obviously, there weren’t as many around this time of year—it’s a seasonal thing—but there were a few species hardy enough to endure the winter. Plus, it helps that nature fairies freakin’ love Sinclair.
    I can’t blame them, since Sinclair’s a great guy. He’s also my ex-boyfriend. That would be the less than perfect part. Okay, it’s not like we dated that long—it was only about a month—and I’m the one who broke it off, but still.
    It’s not that I regret ending things with Sinclair, but the relationship didn’t have a chance to run its natural course. It’s a long story, but suffice it to say that it involves his secret twin sister, obeah magic, and a Jamaican duppy.
    Anyway.
    Since I had time to kill, I drove over to East Pemkowet. Realizing I was starving, I got a cheese Danish to go at the Sit’n Sip and ate it on the way to the library.
    Let me just say that for my money, the Pemkowet District Library is one of the best things about this town. Seriously, it’s awesome. It’s small and quaint—it’s actually lodged in a charming old building that was a church in the 1800s—but the services it offers are huge in comparison.
    The library was a big part of my life when I was growing up. Mom and I didn’t have a lot of money, but as long as we could use computers and check out books and videos and music CDs from the library for free, it didn’t matter that we couldn’t afford cable or satellite TV or an Internet connection at home. Being a small facility, the library doesn’t have an extensive collection, but it’s good—you can also request anything you want from another library in the region, and they’ll deliver it within days. Very cool.
    Plus, there’s the Sphinx, which is why I decided to pay the library a visit today.
    The Sphinx is either an oracle or a very