“Would you like something to eat?” The fairy smiled and tendrils of sweet steam curled out of its mouth.
“Is it freely given?” I asked.
“No. I will take a food from you in return.”
“I, uh, only have trail rations left.”
It seemed a poor trade for the platters of pastries, fruit and fragrant stew on offer at the fairy's table.
“You have sufficient food for trade.”
I selected a pastry and held it up to my lips. The dough was flaky and soft, it smelled of fresh baking and rich saffron.
“And that's it? The price is just some of the food I have on me?”
“Yes. And only that which is a fair exchange for what you take.” The fairy's eyes were like an impressionist’s take on a doe's eyes. They looked at me like I was a bird with a broken wing.
I bit into the pastry. The taste of wholesome root vegetables and sweet spices burst on my tongue. I ate and ate and ate until my cheeks glowed with pleasure and my brain tingled with sensation.
When I was done, I thanked the fairy and bowed to it. Then I reached into my pack to find my rations.
The fairy put a hand on mine to stop my rummaging.
“That is not necessary. I have taken my payment.”
“Huh? But I still have all my food…”
“You once ate a curry made of banana skins, stewed slow in spices and lemon. You asked the recipe after. It is mine now.”
I paled. I tried to think of how to make that dish and came up blank. I thought I had learned how to bargain in the autumnlands, but evidently I needed to be more careful.
“Why… why take the recipe?”
“So I can make it for my next visitor. And they will give me another in return. Eventually I will have the best kitchen in all the courts.”
“And then?”
The fairy wrinkled its nose and its wings at the same time.
“And then I will have the most visitors, who will bring me even more recipes.” It made it sound like this was the most obvious thing in the world.
“But then what? Does the cycle, y'know, end?”
The fairy thought about this. Its wings shifted as it thought, cycling between moth and eagle and bat and pigeon, making it seem a roiling menagerie of prey and predator.
“End? Hmmm.” Finally its wings settled and became two sheafs of golden wheat that fluttered in the breeze. “I suppose it will end when everyone is fed.”
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