I spent another hour or so at the Beet Festival, gawking at everything the festival had to offer. Then my tummy started to complain, upset that I had stuffed it full to bursting with cryspes yet again. So I returned to the tavern where Myth and I were staying and fussed over the marvelous knickknacks I had purchased.
Myth slinked into our room a few hours later. And do you know what, Buster? Her arms were empty! You would not believe how miffed I was when I saw that she had not purchased a single thing.
“Myth,” I said in my best scolding voice, “you were supposed to buy a souvenir.”
“I did,” she replied. “Oh, here’s your change.”
Myth reached into her trouser pocket, pulled out some coins, and held them out to me. I noticed right away that she winced whenever she moved her right arm.
Taking the coins, I deposited them into my coin purse. Then I turned back to Myth and folded my arms across my tummy. “So, what did you buy? And where is it?”
“Well,” said Myth, “I went to Bramble’s Elvenhome—”
“Did you just give some coins to other elves?” I asked her, tapping my foot. “That’s noble, so I won’t be mad at you if you did. But you were supposed to buy a souvenir.”
“I told you—I did,” replied Myth. “But I figured if I was going to waste money on a souvenir, then I should buy it from an elf. That way, I’m still helping people who need it.”
“That’s really sweet, Myth,” I said, smiling. “But I don’t see any packages, so what did you buy?”
Using her left hand, Myth began to unbutton her shirt. “Help me take off my doublet, and I’ll show you.”
Well, that comment flabbergasted me. “Um, why do you need to undress?”
“You’ll see,” replied Myth. “But please, be gentle. My arm is sore.”
I helped Myth doff her doublet as gently as I could. Once her right arm was free from its sleeve, I noticed that a bandage was covering her upper arm.
“Myth!” I gasped. “What happened to your arm?”
“This has been on for a couple hours now,” said Myth as she touched the bandage. “It should be safe to remove it.”
She unrolled the bandage, revealing…
“A tattoo!” I exclaimed.
“Yeah,” said Myth, “I’ve wanted to get one for years.”
Her new tattoo stretched from her elbow up to her shoulder. The artist had done a splendid job of creating a garden on Myth’s arm. Red columbine, purple lavender, yellow daffodils—any gardener would be fortunate to tend to such a botanic marvel. And in the midst of all those flowers was a tiny woman with curly hair and two wings.
“Is that a fairy?” I asked Myth.
“Yeah, but we call them Atti.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know,” replied Myth. “It’s a name from the old days when elves lived with the Innuatti—it’s the only thing we remember from back then. Not even Gareth knows why the name is important, but we still use it. In stories, our Atti are no different from your fairies. But I think that’s because we’ve lived with humans for such a long time—you’ve rubbed off on us. Humans have even influenced our Faerie Squares: we used to call them Atti Squares. But we refuse to call our Atti ‘fairies.’ A name that enduring must be important.”
“Your tattoo is beautiful,” I said. “But it also looks painful.”
“Yeah,” said Myth as she admired her new tattoo. “I’m going to be sore for a few days.”
“That’s why I could never get one,” I said. “My skin is too sensitive.”
Myth glanced at me. “You’re skin already has enough decorations, Iz—all those freckles.”
I giggled. “Freckles aren’t decorations, Myth.”
“Hey!” exclaimed Myth. “I like freckles. When I was little, I was so jealous of all the lucky girls who had freckles. I even painted some on my face once. That didn’t go over so well with Mom—I had to sit in the corner for an hour.”
I pointed at her tattoo. “And what would your mom say about that?”
“Oh!” said Myth. “She’d give me the ‘stern look.’ Trust me, Izzy—the ‘stern look’ would make anyone cower beneath a table. Mom might even fold her arms and tap her foot. Only Dad ever received that treatment, and he would walk around the house sheepishly for a week afterwards.”
“Then you took a big risk, Missy.”
“Yeah,” said Myth. “But it was worth it.” She looked up from her tattoo and smiled at me. “Thank you for giving me this gift, Izzy.”