"I was worried about you," she said, again, the smile wobbling on her face. "The things I had heard—"
"All true, no doubt," Roiben said, a touch lightly. He ran his fingers through the girl's hair, and Kaye shivered sympathetically, knowing how those long fingers felt. "Your hair is so long."
"I haven't cut it since you left." The woman turned to Kaye. "I heard my brother barely introduce you to the Queen. My question is—is Roiben trying to protect us from you or you from us?"
Kaye laughed, surprised.
"Ethine," Roiben said, nodding to one and then the other, "Kaye."
The woman's tinkling laughter was like breaking glass. "You've discarded your courtly airs."
"So I have been told," Roiben said.
Ethine reached up among the branches of the apple tree and broke off a single flower.
"All that matters is that you are now home," she said, tucking the flower behind his ear. Kaye noticed the slight flinch when Ethine touched him and wondered whether his reaction had hurt her.
"This is no longer my home," Roiben said.
"Of course it is. Where else would you go?" Her eyes traveled to Kaye, questioning for the first time. "She hurt you, I know that, but you will forgive her in time. You always forgive her."
"Desires change," he said.
"What did they do to you?" Ethine looked horrified.
"Whatever has been done to me, whatever I have done… as surely as blood soaks my hands, and it does, the stain of it touches even the hems of the Queen of Elfland."
"Don't speak so. You loved her once."
"I love her still, more's the pity."
Kaye turned away. She didn't want to hear any more. It had nothing to do with her.
She stalked off toward the car. One of the human children was on his toes, reaching for an apple just out of his grasp. He was wearing a green tunic, tied at his hips with a silk cord.
"Hello," Kaye said.
"Hi." The boy grinned up at her imploringly, and she plucked the fruit. It came free from the branch with a snap.
"Where's your mother?" Kaye asked, shining the apple on her coat.
He scowled at her, one lock of dark brown hair covering his eye. "Gimme."
"Did you always live with faeries?"
"Uh-huh," he said, eyes on the apple.
"For how long?" she asked.
He reached out one chubby hand, and she gave him the apple. He took a bite immediately. She waited while he chewed, but as soon as he had gulped down one bite, he started gnawing on it again. Then, as if he just remembered her, he looked up guiltily. He shrugged and mumbled through a full mouth. "Always."
"Thanks," Kaye said, ruffling the chestnut hair. There was no point in asking him anything. He knew about as much as she did. Then, she turned back to him. "Hey, do you know a little girl called Kaye?"
He wrinkled up his face in an exaggeration of thinking, then he pointed toward one of the blankets. "Uh-huh. Prolly over there."
As though all her blood rushed to her head, she felt a flush of heat and dizziness as if she'd been hanging upside down. Her fingers were like ice.
Leaving the boy to his apple, she walked among the cloth blankets, stopping each little girl she passed, no matter what they looked like. "Is your name Kaye, sweetie?"