Page 4 of Welcome to Fae Cafe
“I’ll forgive you for not bowing your head to me this once, Prince, because I imagine this news has startled you,” the Queene said. She turned to face the nobles from the Ever Corners filling the banquet hall. “The rumours are true. I have decided that Prince Cressica, my ward and First Assassin of the North, will wed my daughter,” she said in her high voice. “Now, eat. Eat until you’re sick, all of you. I demand it.”
A frigid silence hung in the Hall of Silver; even the harpists held their breath. But as the Queene moved for her throne at the head of the table, fairies dropped to sit and began shovelling hot soup, sweet blossoms, and spiced meat into their mouths too quickly for enjoyment.
Only Cress was left standing.
3
Kate Kole and The Absence of Warm Croissants
and Warm Bodies
The cool morning melted to a sweet warmth in the city. Kate watched a butterfly sail past the police station window and land on a rustic maple branch. The bug stretched its silk wings as though it hadn’t a care in the world, as though it was showing off to the watching human girl with a stink face and a stomach full of croissant. Kate snorted at it. She tried flicking the window to scare it off, but it just fluttered its wings, rubbing it in even more that it was free and awesome, and Kate was in trouble and screwed. Finally, the gloating bug lifted from its branch and took off out of sight.
If Kate had wings like that, she’d fly away, too. She imagined the breeze beneath her dinosaur-sized bug wings, and the soothing sun on her back, and every mistake she’d ever made unable to find her. How different life would be if she had wings.
She’d probably also be all over the news as the most absurd abnormality in Ontarian history.
It would make a good novel. She could call it,The Bolting Butterfly. A Young Adult Modern Fantasy about a girl who floated into the heavens to run from her problems. And one day she would face a problem she couldn’t escape from, and every mistake she’d ever made in her past would all catch up with her at once with back-to-back consequences. The protagonist would probably end up in jail.
Kate moaned at herself. She wound up and flicked her own face, right on the cheek. “Dummy, don’t think that way,” she said. A second later she mumbled, “Ow,” when she realized she’d flicked herself too hard. She rubbed her cheek, wondering if burgundy hair would compliment an orange jumpsuit.
The inner-city police station buzzed with dutiful cops and loud Toronto citizens claiming they didn’t do anything wrong. Kate pulled her gaze from the window as Officer Westbow took her in from head to toe, blinking a dozen times over. Probably wondering why she was talking to herself. She usually dropped the weird/crazy act once she no longer needed it, but it seemed to have stuck this time.
“Did you just say youkilledsomeone?” he asked.
Kate already forgot how she’d run into the station shouting it for all of Toronto to hear.
“I rushed here as soon as it happened. I can take you to him. I mean…it. The body.” Kate swallowed. “I just—I should make a phone call.” Her hand slid into her pocket. Her fingers banged around in the fabric for a moment, and confusion washed over her. “Where’s my…” She patted over her jeans, lifting her coat to check it. She moaned when she realized her phone was still at the coffee shop. “Um… Is Officer Baker here, by chance?” She stole a look toward the break room.
Doubt flashed over Officer Westbow’s face. “She’s out on duty. Do you know Officer Baker personally?”
Kate chewed on her lip.
“No.” She folded her hands on her lap and pulled her eyes off the break room. “Not at all.”
Officer Westbow tapped his chin. “Do you have your ID?” he asked.
Kate opened her wallet, slid out her university student card, and passed it over. The officer’s brows furrowed when he took it.
“Can I see someotherID?” he asked, giving the card back. “I need a driver’s license, a birth certificate, or a passport.”
Kate shook her head. “That’s the only ID I have.”
Her wallet burned in her hands where the rest of her cards were stuffed.
The officer clicked his pen over a lined notebook. “What was the name of the person you killed, Miss Kole?” he asked.
“I don’t know.”
He nodded, poorly concealing an odd expression. “Is anyone else injured? Should I call an ambulance?” He slid his notebook and pen over the desk. “And I’ll need you to write down exactly where I should send my partner to go lock down the crime scene. Immediately, please.”
“No one else needs an ambulance,” was all Kate said. She stared at the pen, the notebook. Her hands didn’t move to take them.
A pair of cops hauled a howling middle-aged woman through the station. The woman swatted at their faces, shouting obscene things. She missed the first time, but on her second swing, she flipped one of the cop’s hats off his head. It landed at Kate’s feet.
Kate blinked down at the hat for a moment before she picked it up. Dust clung to the rim, so she brushed her sweater over to clean it. When the cop came back for his hat, Kate lifted it toward him. She had a brief moment where she considered tossing over Officer Westbow’s desk in front of both cops, shouting like the howling woman, and sticking with her crazy person act. Maybe she’d be let off the hook for kicking that coffee shop guy into the table if the cops thought she was crazy for real.
“Thanks,” the cop mumbled as he took the hat. He disappeared down the hall where the rowdy woman was taken. Kate watched them, counting down the seconds until her opportunity to tear up the police station passed.
