Tipping the bag on his desk, Carrick gently let the pieces slide out. It was a heavy, metal-casted base that was bronzed, upon which set a butterfly whose wings were done in Tiffany glass soldered in beautiful blues, greens, and golds that were, no doubt, her father’s very deliberate nod to the color of his daughter’s eyes. The Tiffany glass was broken, some into small shards, and the metal base dented.
Carrick stared at it briefly before he waved his hand in a slow circular motion over the top of the broken lamp. A golden glow was left in the wake of his hand, creating a gentle cyclone that drifted down, surrounded the lamp, and lifted all of the components off the desk. The glow got brighter until he could no longer see the pieces spinning within the funnel, but he felt his work was done.
Pressing his hand down on the air above the glowing whirl, he settled it downward on the desk. The glow slowly dissipated and in its stead was the lamp—fully restored and without a nick, dent, or scratch left. Even the bits of glass that had turned to dust that Zaid couldn’t have possibly recovered were replaced, and the plug, which was bent at a horrible angle, straightened.
Carrick lifted the lamp gently, then moved through his condo. He rarely paid attention to the beautiful scenery out his window, and he ignored the clanging around in the kitchen as Zaid must be in there organizing cabinets or something.
He strode down the hallway to Finley’s bedroom without any intention of disturbing her.
Instead, he squatted and gently placed the lamp in front of the door so she would see it when she came out later.
It was the best he could do for her for now.
CHAPTER 17
Finley
Sitting at the kitchen island in Carrick’s condo, I quietly sip at my coffee and work on a few emails of instruction to Lisa at the coffee shop. She’s quickly become my number two in command, and I feel confident she can hold the fort down.
The lie I told her was a whopper—that Carrick was flying us down to Brazil to look at a coffee plantation he was considering buying. I needed that whopper to set up expectations that she might have trouble reaching me, and to do the best she could with any decisions if I was “out of cell phone range”. Zaid told me early this morning not to bother bringing my phone with me as electronics of any nature didn’t work in Faere.
Zaid had told me plenty this morning as he fixed me a huge breakfast. I was stunned to find him in the kitchen just a little after six this morning when I walked in. It’s like he had anticipated I’d be up early, but he is an empath after all, so maybe not that strange. I was admittedly famished as my afternoon nap never ended, and I slept right through dinner.
While he cooked me eggs, hash browns, bacon, and toast, he told me a few more things about Faere that Carrick had not mentioned.
First, the Light Fae were a vain species and were forever prancing and preening. By the tone of his voice, I could tell he had no respect for this behavior, and I wondered if that extended to whichever of his parents were light.
“All they do is hold parties to gossip, mingle, and socialize. They try to one-up each other. Try to have the most beautiful clothing, the most extravagant food, or the most exotic pets.”
“Seems that would get boring after a while,” I replied, soaking in all this information.
“You’d think,” he muttered in reply.
Of course, he reiterated the danger Carrick has been pounding into my head since day one.
“Stick close to Carrick,” he warned.
When breakfast was served, he sat beside me at the island, eating his own eggs and bacon, and described Faere a bit. The temperature was on the cool side year-round, almost like a fall day that was crisp in the morning but warmer with the afternoon sun. Sounded a lot like Seattle, except we didn’t have a lot of afternoon sun. With this information, I knew I’d have to maybe do a little re-packing and plan for layers.
Zaid also told me that there were animals in Faere that were unlike the ones we know here. His only warning was not to be shocked.
When I pushed and asked if any were dangerous, he gave me a sly smile and said, “Of course there are dangerous animals there. But no more dangerous than every fae you’ll encounter.”
Why he was trying to intimidate me I don’t know, but when I shuffled some warmer clothes into my backpack, I also snuck into the gym and nabbed a dagger with a hip holster to bring along.
Before heading off to repack though, I felt it was the appropriate time to give my thanks, and not just for the delicious breakfast he’d made for me. When I opened my door this morning, I almost stumbled right over the Tiffany butterfly lamp placed on the floor. And not just any lamp, but the one my father had given me for my birthday before he died, and it was completely whole again.