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Ashley waited with bated breath for news of Sophia and her whereabouts.

“I followed them all the way to town,” Finn said. “And then out of town. And then back to town. I got a little turned around. But then a man approached me on the street and walked by me singing this little song about a lass with eyes the color of honey and molasses, and he was speaking of a girl named Sophia. I wish I could remember the words.” He began to sing softly to himself.

Finn had obviously had more to drink than Ashley had originally thought when he arrived. “Go to bed, Finn. Sleep it off.” He got up to go to bed himself, but Finn jumped up to follow him.

“I asked him where he’d heard that song. He said a little man with a round head who was about two feet tall was singing it in the bushes by him, and he’d been so enamored of it that he’d learned every word.” Finn groaned at what must have been the ungodly amusement that was sure to be on Ashley’s face. “I know, it sounds quite farcical, but I swear it’s true.” He laid a hand upon his heart. “The little man was singing of your Sophia Thorne.”

Ashley snorted. “She’s not my Sophia.”

“But she will be, if you have any say in the matter.”

Yes, she would.

Finn swished his hands in the air, as though to wipe away any obstruction. “So, this man was singing about Sophia and talking about the little man. And I thought how odd the whole situation was.” He reached out to grab Ashley. “You’ll never believe this, Robin.” He looked like he was about to burst.

“I’m certain I won’t.”

“I asked him where he saw the little man. I felt certain he’d say he met him during his stay at Bedlam, but he didn’t. He pointed down the road. So, I walked down the road, and guess what I found?”

It was only then that Ashley realized Finn had dropped a burlap sack as he’d walked into the room. And the sack was moving. “Tell me that’s not…”

“I caught him, Robin. I caught the little man. He told me all about the Thornes.”

“Was this before or after you shoved him in the sack?”

Finn appeared to think it over. “Before.”

“You have a little man in the little sack.” Ashley was quite certain his mouth was hanging open. But he couldn’t help it. It was too ridiculous for words. Finn looked like the cat that ate the canary. “What’s really in the bag, Finn?”

Finn rolled his eyes and then crossed to the bag and upended it. And from the bag rolled a little man, who, when unfurled, stood about two feet tall. Finn had the man’s hands tied in front of him and his feet bound, and Finn’s cravat poked out of the man’s mouth. Ashley heard what he thought sounded like an oath from the little lad. He wore a yellow waistcoat and a black jacket, with a red cravat of his own.

The little fellow murmured something at him from behind the wad of fabric shoved into his mouth. “What did you say?” Ashley prompted. The little man motioned to his mouth with his hands. “Oh, quite right.”

“Don’t do that, Robin!” Finn shouted, just as Ashley tugged the plug from the little man’s mouth. But it was too late. The red-faced little creature leaned forward and sank its teeth into Ashley’s finger. “It bites,” Finn said belatedly.

“Bloody hell,” Ashley murm

ured to himself as he took a step back from the creature. “You could have told me it bites before you let me free its mouth.”

Finn shrugged. “I tried.”

“Try harder next time.”

“Untie me,” the little man said.

“It speaks,” Finn said, sinking down onto his knees to regard the little man more closely.

“Of course, I speak, you dolt,” the little fellow said. “You and I had a whole conversation before you stuffed me in the sack.”

A grin tugged at the corners of Ashley’s lips.

“You don’t have to call me names,” Finn returned.

The man held up his hands. “You don’t have to tie me up.”

Ashley snorted. He couldn’t help it. It was too hard not to laugh.

The little man held out his hands to Ashley. “Your Grace, would you untie me, please?”


Tags: Tammy Falkner Faerie Fantasy