Kin (Annabelle's Story Part Two) (16 page)

“Okay. That sounds good,” she said while slipping further out from around the corner.

I did a double take. Starfish clung to her body, creating a bikini-clad look—a look that seemed beyond her years.

“How old are you?”

“Thirteen. Why?

“No reason.” This wasn’t the time to lecture her on her appearance. I was sure she had an overprotective dad for that.

“So, Wyn, you said that Adrian sent you here?”

“Yes, that’s right. Prince Adrianus told me to bring you straight to him.”

The nod of my head slowly turned into a slight tilt. It made Wyn’s eyes go wide with wonder.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Yes, sure. If you’d like,” she said anxiously.

“Are you a fae?”

She looked relieved and enthusiastically bobbed her head.

I felt relieved as well. This meant that Adrian and the others had found fresh water sprites to help plant the flower and retrieve the shell.

“We should go, princess. My orders were to bring you right back.”

“Of course. Just one more question.”

Her eyes darted down the tunnel, but she politely nodded.

“Did Adrian tell you to call me ‘princess’?”

“Yes. I was told it was very important.”

“Oh is it now?” I said more to myself.

Even after all this “growing up” he’d done, it made me happy that his lighthearted side still remained. He knew I had felt ridiculous when all the Mami Wata referred to me as a princess. When we had lain in bed after the celebration and recounted our night, he kept using the title to get a rise out of me. I’d punch him in the arm then lay my head back down. Every time, his hand would follow to stroke my hair.

It also meant he didn’t hold my tight-lipped response to his declaration of love against me. I wasn’t sure I’d be as forthcoming. I could see my pride getting the best of me.

While my thoughts wandered, Wyn stared at me like the unsure, nervous, yet wide-eyed young fae she was. Amused, I suggested we keep moving, saving her from a response.

She readily agreed.

We had an interesting trip together through the tunnels. At times they would narrow, then out of nowhere a large room unfolded. Those areas acted as central points where new corridors jutted out in various directions. Without Wyn I’d have been completely lost.

But while we traveled the tunnels, I couldn’t help but feel uneasy. The mud walls released a fear in me that they’d collapse at any moment. One thing was for sure, I was adamant about taking smooth strokes directly down the center, even when things got tight, so I wouldn’t brush against the confines of the tunnels.

Thankfully, Wyn was a talker. Sure, she acted timid at first. Once she warmed up, her breakneck pace of speech gave me little time to worry about a cave-in. She barely finished one sentence before she launched into the next.

Turned out, Wyn was part of a duo. She had a twin brother named Tristyn. Out of the two of them Tristyn was the brave one. After the loss of their parents, they were on their own.

She barely mentioned it, going right on to the next topic. Still, I felt bad about my earlier thoughts—about her dad giving her a hard time about her appearance. The poor fae didn’t have a father. Or even a mother.

And with no other family, Wyn and Tristyn didn’t have a place to belong, to call home. Wyn oftentimes stayed behind while Tristyn went out exploring, scavenging for food, or finding their next place to squat. Although they’d only been on their own for a little over two years, Tristyn had developed quite the tough exterior.

When I heard that Adrian recruited the help of Wyn’s brother to complete the monumental task of retrieving the shell, apprehension jolted my body, nearly causing me to brush my arm against the wall. I hoped she didn’t catch the skepticism plastered across my face about Adrian enlisting the help of a thirteen-year-old.

If she did, she didn’t show it. Her bubbly personality made perfect sense now. If I spent as much time alone as she did, I’d talk off whoever’s ear I came across as well.

When I asked her how she and Tristyn were chosen to help us, her response was simple. With a practical shrug, she said, “There wasn’t anyone else.”

Even though the fae breathed both air and water, they rarely ventured above ground. Instead, they stuck to the deep ponds, rivers, and lakes, using Crowe’s Crossing to navigate from one to the other when necessary. Most fae created small colonies and didn’t venture far away.

In fact, Crowe’s Crossing wasn’t the groundwater expressway it once was. And the fae hadn’t seen it as such for centuries. Venturing to larger colonies, like Gwynedd Lake, marked the few times the sprites left the safety of their homes.

From what Wyn said, access to Gwynedd Lake was similar to that of the Lake of Elfin. Along the shores, a trapdoor led to a hidden island. The thing was, the fae were taught to fear the above ground and rarely made this trip. Malevolent fae frequented the shores as places to rendezvous with other malevolent encantado and selkie in their human forms.

For whatever reason, Tristyn didn’t fear navigating the tunnels, especially today. He had set out the day prior to Kenfig Pool in southern Wales. It held one of the bigger colonies of fae. Here, he hoped to trade for food.

Ironically enough, folklore surrounded this place as well. Some say that the lake was bottomless and that a city lay beneath the water. Legends believed that people who waded into the lake disappeared into a whirlpool to never return.

Truth was, it was just fae returning home.

Today, Tristyn decided to pop up onto land before heading “home” himself. He often liked the feel of the morning sun on his face and the cool breeze against his skin. It just so happened a Guardian scouted out the waters edge for any sign of fae.

It took little convincing for Tristyn to agree to make the short trip to the Bristol Channel. There, Adrian waited.

Eagerness was a quality shared between the twins. Tristyn grew up hearing tales of the prophecy and readily agreed to help. At the mention of Wyn, Adrian’s ears perked up. And although Tristyn’s enthusiasm didn’t extend to his sister’s involvement, he eventually agreed to send her in pursuit of Princess Annabelle Leigh Walsh.

With Wyn’s supreme navigational skills from years of living the life as a nomad and the help of my water affinity to speed us along, we reached the end of our journey faster than I had anticipated.

My time with my new friend left me feeling lighter. Or perhaps that reaction sprung from the fresh water. It was less buoyant than the ocean, but I felt freer. Really, I think it was a combination of the two that made me ready to face whatever came next.

With Wyn, I felt like we were old girlfriends catching up. In fact, she reminded me a lot of a younger version of Lindsey. Naturally, this sent yet another nostalgic pang deep into my stomach.

The only time Wyn and I didn’t see eye-to-eye centered on our destination. Adrian instructed her to escort me to the channel. I, on the other hand, had my eye on the Lake of Elfin.

I can be quite stubborn when I want to be. So when we reached the shores of the Lake of Elfin, our newfound closeness made throwing my arms around Wyn and thanking her for her help feel natural. She offered to come above ground with me, then looked completely relieved when I dismissed this idea. Her primal fear so poorly disguised this offer, her innocence shaking another heavy layer of anxiety from my shoulders.

Side by side, we used our hands to push at the trapdoor. I couldn’t help thanking her one more time before leaving her behind.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

I emerged in the Lake of Elfin, literally along its banks. The shoreline appeared deserted, allowing me to exhale a sigh of relief. An attack from a Tracker was the last thing I needed right now.

The idea of a trapdoor along the shores of a lake leading to an island that led back into the lake wasn’t entirely clear to me.

At this point in time, what really was?

Frankly, I wouldn’t lose any sleep over it, especially since I was now going on thirty-six hours without any.

My first step onto the deserted shoreline proved awkward in my flippers, but I didn’t plan on staying above water long.

The trapdoor was right there: only a few feet in front of me. The foliage that once concealed the door had been hastily torn away, littering the rocky sand with leafy debris.

Orange hues of the Columnea Billbergia flower swayed softly in the cool breeze, bent in half in such a way the petals nearly reached the ground. Our journey had torn and battered the once perfect spade-shaped leaves. The fact that I’d uprooted the dolphin flower, shoved it into my bodysuit, submerged it into the ocean, then passed the flower off from hand to hand didn’t matter. It was now safely planted back in the ground.

The deed was done, the trapdoor had been opened.

By who, I didn’t know.

But the fact that it was the first time another paved the path for me wasn’t lost. For once, it felt good to be a step behind.

Upon closer examination of the soil, someone, or rather some ones, left multiple footprints behind. All were webbed. Clearly the works of fae, and at least two of them.

I inferred that one set of prints belonged to Tristyn.

The second pair? God only knew.

I hoped “malevolent” wasn’t a term that preceded his or her name.

Without further delay, I approached the opening to the door. Shielding my eyes, I couldn’t quite discern the time of day. The sun wasn’t yet ready to set. Frankly, it didn’t matter though. I knew I’d go inside even if it were a minute to twelve. I had to. There was no other choice.

I stopped to look both directions, an instinctive act of feeling like someone watched me, before lowering myself into the hole.

My heartbeat instantly raced. Half my body, specifically my top half, remained above ground. Wiggling my legs, I hit only empty air.

Slowly, I loosened my grip, my fingertips the last to go before my leap of faith.

I swore my feet didn’t move, a real head scratcher. But as soon as my fingertips met the air, my feet rested on a stepping-stone. I didn’t drop. I didn’t do anything.

I shot my eyes up, taking in a hint of the blue sky amidst the grayed clouds, blocking out the sun’s rays. There wasn’t a trapdoor above me.

Instead, next to my feet, a shadow darkened a door set into the ground.

I sidestepped away from it onto a nearby stone. Where the door led would be a question for later… after I had the conch shell in hand.

The garden itself wasn’t a large size. In a handful of strides, I could walk the diameter of the oval-shaped island. However, every inch of the soil appeared to serve a purpose.

Cobblestone paths forged the only walkways across the island with two Ley’s Whitebeam trees connecting the main path. The white, bushy flowers that completed each branch acted as a stark contrast from the colorful blooms. Just like a neatly organized closet, the grouping of colors formed the arrangement of the flowers that otherwise dominated the grounds.

A second path led to a bench tucked neatly under a large Sessile Oak. And another cut across directly to the water’s edge.

Without hesitation, I took my next step in that direction. From what Adrian told me, the town was beneath the island, in the depths of Elfin Lake.

From where I stood on the shoreline, I couldn’t see any other land. It was as if the island was out in the middle of the water and  disjoined from the rest of the world. The water itself mirrored glass; completely still and flat without a single ripple flawing the surface.

As the tips of my flippers dangled atop the lake, I peered at the water in hopes of a glimpse of the town. My image was all that reflected back. I marveled at the rumpled girl staring up at me.

My chin was black and blue, my hair tangled, and dark circles looked like they’d been painted beneath my eyes. I wasn’t a sight for sore eyes. I was just an eyesore.

An instant later, my fingertips, arms, head, and the remainder of my body broke the water’s surface. My dive sent a ripple throughout the placid lake, dispersing my haunting reflection.

I collected myself as soon as I slipped beneath the water, letting my eyes devour all that waited below.

I remembered Adrian saying the fae wore Tudor style clothing. When I first met Wyn, her attire confused me. The patchwork of the starfish didn’t scream House of Tudor with headdresses, corsets, and puffy gowns. When I asked her about it, she belly laughed at me in response.

The thing was, their clothing may have evolved over the centuries, but their town hadn’t. The coral lit up the architecture that resembled a Welsh kingdom frozen in time. Although the prophecy had locked the door barring entrance long before, it appeared reminiscent of the fifteen hundreds. From my higher vantage point, I saw stone facades, ivy sneaking up the sides of buildings, cobbled streets, a market square, and a church with a steeple.

This town was different though as well. And it wasn’t hard to miss. The limits of the town created the shape of a flower, a rose as it lay on its side. Beyond the town, miles and miles of untamed plant life stretched until I saw no further.

On the far right, the town took the shape of the head of a rose. The streets formed the lines that separated each layer and individual petal. The church sat at the middle with a marketplace surrounding their place of worship. In between each street, large buildings and blocks of coral filled the empty space.

From the church, a long sandy road cut straight across, forming the stem of the rose. It created the main street of the town where businesses with cute little signs hung from their roofs.

Shapes of leaves jutted out from either side of the main street. Here, the streets took on the look of veins within each leaf. The houses there were smaller, closer together. My guess, these areas were the less wealthy sections of the town.

There were even thorn-shaped pastures and fenced in areas that held various fish, along with fauna and flora I didn’t recognize.

It felt surreal swimming down the main street. Not only because I felt like I’d been transported back in time, but also because the fae pulled their shutters tightly shut.