On Fallen Wings (36 page)

“Hello, Rhiannon,” she said, opening her front door at the exact moment I stepped onto the grass. She was wearing her gown of the Fae, and stood straight and regal.

I waved politely and shuffled across the grass, unwilling to make her wait. She had the power to influence my future, and I couldn’t risk offending her. “Hello, Raisa,” I said, bowing when I reached the door.

She opened her arms and embraced me for a quick moment before spinning me inside. She slammed the door behind me. “How was your walk?” Without waiting for my response, she scampered down the hall and waved an arm above her head, signaling for me to follow.

“Lonely,” I answered anyway, doubting she heard me. “The leaves fell.” I took a place at the couch where I had sat during my last visit.

Raisa didn’t respond. She pulled a silk bag from her cupboard and returned to the living room. “Would you like a refreshment?” She emptied the bag onto a porcelain plate on the tiny table between us.

Almond cookies. My mouth watered. I was there for business; however, I couldn’t resist their sweet smell.

“Thank you,” I said, taking one.

While I indulged in a brief moment of flavorful bliss, Raisa walked around the small table and sat next to me. I swallowed my bite.

“Tell me what happened, Rhiannon,” she said, aiming her question like an arrow. “What did you do?”

I held my breath and dropped my gaze to look down at my hands while I answered, but decided better. They were cut from the day prior. When I lifted my head, Raisa was staring at me. Large and hazel, her eyes demanded the truth. My tears broke free and poured down my cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” I said, using my sleeve as a towel.

In the confines of her strange little home, I told my story to the Faerie Queen, sobbing through the details of the week. The moment was agonizing. It wouldn’t end. The more I spoke, the more my words haunted me, as they were painful and honest. Raisa said nothing, but nodded after each sentence. My head hurt, my eyes burned, and my stomach twisted the emotion from me. The Faerie Queen offered no condolence and no support. She merely compelled me with those hazel eyes.

When I finished, I sniffled and shuddered. I wiped my eyes dry.

“Is that everything?” asked Raisa.

I nodded.

“Where are the scrolls, now?”

“I—I don’t know. He wouldn’t tell me.”

“The bandit?”

I nodded. “Yes.”

Raisa patted me on the knee and groaned as she stood. I reached over to help her, but she waved me away. She hobbled to the other side of the table.

“What’s going to happen?”

“What do you think will happen?” Raisa’s voice was still kind, but tense; she was holding something back. The silence was more painful than the answer I feared.

“Am I losing my position in the Fae?” I sensed that it was coming, and decided to end the suspense. My heart had suffered enough pain.

“I cannot make that decision alone,” said Raisa, turning away from me. “Your fate as a faerie lies with all of your sisters. I will offer my opinion.”

Hope, there was still hope. I smiled inside, but kept my face calm and muted. Once the other Fae heard about why I had acted in such a way, they would certainly understand. Raisa understood; she knew of the pain I was suffering, and would be sympathetic to my cause.

Raisa turned back to face me. “I will call for a Faerie Gathering,” she said. “Present yourself to Stone Meadow at dusk.”

I bowed respectfully, but at that moment, the gravity of my situation hit me, as if the Faerie Queen had pressed her hands against my chest and pushed with the weight of the other women. I felt the blow, and it stung.

“I’ll arrive at dusk,” I said, my voice shaking.

“That is all.” Raisa motioned for me to stand, and led me to the front door.

Outside, I turned to offer thanks to her for listening, but she closed it behind me, leaving me to the solitude of the forest.

The walk home was lonely and full of tears. I could have counted my steps. As I disturbed the newly fallen leaves, they crumpled and sang with haunting abandonment. My faith had been my strength, and my actions my weakness. What would have happened without them both? I was confused, helpless, and most of all, angry. Still, the leaves kept their chatter below my feet.

The weather changed during that lonely walk across the village. When I left Raisa’s home, it had been cool and calm, but an icy wind soon lifted the leaves from the forest floor and stirred them like a stew around me. I bundled my shawl close, but it lacked warmth, and no longer offered comfort. I ran the remainder of the journey. It was going to be a cold night.

~ O ~

I wanted to be alone that evening and face my fate in secrecy; however, I knew that if the council chose to expel me from the Fae, I would need someone to guide me home. The anger hadn’t left, and after what I had done to Darian, I feared my actions and myself. Among the quiet tears that afternoon, thoughts of revenge toward him had crept into my mind. I was weakened, and a part of me, although deep inside, knew that Raisa was right to call a council. I had changed.

I gathered my family in the dining room and tried my best to explain what was about to happen. Mother sobbed—along with Leila and me, Ethan sat stoic in the corner, and Father banged his fist against the table, while I detailed my tragic story of the past week. We didn’t eat an evening meal; Mother felt ill, and neither Leila nor I wanted to make the effort to cook. The only one who complained was Ethan, and Father ordered him upstairs, leaving the dining room eerily silent. The four of us stared out the window and watched the shadows grow.

As dusk began its call, I chose a warm fur blanket from the empty room and wandered to the front door. Leila followed me outside; I had asked her to come with me, for support. I wrapped the blanket tight around us to fight a freezing wind. We walked to Stone Meadow in silence.

When we arrived, a fire was already burning near the Season Stone. The other Fae stood huddled in a circle, and when I left Leila to join them, Abigail ran toward us and motioned for me to stand back.

“I’m here to tell my story,” I said, meekly. “May I address the Fae?”

Abigail shook her head. “We will call for you once we have made a decision. Until then, you should wait here.”

“This doesn’t look promising,” said Leila, shivering under the blanket.

I agreed, but didn’t speak. As Leila dropped to the ground to sit, I remained standing, and watched the dancing flames of the fire move beyond the Fae. I looked down at my gown with a lump in my throat.
Would this be my last memory as a faerie?
The cold pierced me. I dropped to the grass and snuggled close to my sister.

“How long will the council last?” Leila asked through chattering teeth.

I lifted my head. “I don’t know.” My breath curled into the air to be whisked away by the icy wind. I drew the blanket closer. “I’ve never been to a council like this.”

Leila leaned her head on my shoulder and sniffled. “I don’t want them to remove you. Don’t they realize how much you’ve been through?”

“This isn’t about what happened to Sean,” I told her, trying to be brave. “It’s about me, and about what I’ve done.” I reached around my sister. “It will be all right. I accept my fate.” I leaned my head to touch Leila’s hair. “Whatever happens, I’ll need your support and your strength.”

Leila wiped her eyes with one sleeve of her dress. “I don’t know if I can be strong.”

The Fae separated. I rose to my feet. Leila followed, lifting the blanket over her hair. Madeline left the stones and came to us, a solemn expression on her face.

When she reached me, she squeezed me in a large hug. “We have decided,” she whispered. “Please join us at the circle.”

Leila grabbed my hands as I turned to follow Madeline toward the group of waiting women.

“It will be fine,” I said, releasing her. “My fate is my fortune.”

The other Fae wiped tears as I walked toward them, signaling a painful decision and the answer I feared. I remained silent while fighting the urge to cry. Watching my friends suffer hurt more than I could have imagined. Nausea settled heavy in my stomach. I desperately wanted to run somewhere far, far away, but there was no place to hide from the truth. I rubbed the diamond on my necklace. It felt cold and sharp between my fingers. When I reached them, twenty-six faeries formed a circle around me.

“We’ve reached a decision.” Raisa spoke so soft that I could barely hear her over the snapping and popping of the burning wood. “You are immediately removed from the Fae.”

Blood sank from my face to my toes, and left me bitter during its quick descent. My life was over. Within a few days, I had lost everything that mattered. I wobbled in place, but somehow managed to remain standing. None of the faeries moved. Instead, they surrounded me with pale faces and dark eyes that reflected the firelight. My friends looked distant now, and angry. I doubted they would ever speak to me again.

“What happens next?” I asked. My hands trembled like a wavering leaf.

Raisa’s voice was suddenly firm and solid. “We will select someone to replace you. And you will become her Giver.”

“I didn’t get to tell you all what happened,” I argued. “Or why.”

“Your actions, not the reasons, were the purpose of this council, Rhiannon,” said Abigail, stepping forward. Her voice was cold and hollow.

I shuddered as she spoke. My friend—my dear friend—was chastising me.

Raisa repeated her words. “We will select a new faerie and you will be her Giver. You are now dead to us.”

My knees buckled and I sank to the ground. After losing Sean, I hadn’t thought that anything could hurt me again, but this cut so deep I didn’t think it would ever heal. As I sat numbly, Madeline knelt next to me and offered me her warmth.

“It will be okay,” she said, brushing strands of hair away from my face. “Please be strong.”

I shook my head. Even the strength of Sean’s courage had failed me. I was empty. I had nothing left. I lifted my golden shawl over my head and handed it to Madeline.

The faeries stepped aside as I walked between them, offering only cold faces and silence. I had come to Stone Meadow to find sympathy and understanding. I was leaving with rejection from the sisterhood I loved. When I joined Leila in the darkness, she was already crying. She didn’t ask me what happened. Instead, she wrapped the blanket around my shoulders and escorted me home.

Giver

Life outside of the Fae felt ordinary and lonely. Moon Season had ended, and the busy sounds of the forest announced that spring had arrived. Instead of anticipating Sun Season and its elaborate celebration, I wandered around the house and horse meadow, completed my chores as required, and ignored the passing of each day. There was nothing to look forward to and nothing left to rue. I was different, though wiser from the thaw.

Father kept us informed with details from the Elder Councils. Darian refused to reveal where he had taken the stolen items, including the Fae Scrolls. Although many of the Elders were still convinced that he hadn’t acted alone, it didn’t matter anymore—at least to me. The villain had been captured and the trouble in Aisling had ceased. I stopped listening to the updates, and often left the room until the conversation changed. I was trying to forget the past; it hadn’t been kind to me.

One morning, a hum of excitement filled the house as I ventured back inside for a midday meal. Even the windows seemed to glow and let in more sunlight. Mother was singing and Leila danced around the dining room, twirling a towel in circles while wiping the table.

“I’ve been invited,” she sang, grabbing my hands and yanking my arms into the air.

I resisted and let her break away. “What’s happened?” I asked, curious about the lighter mood. “Where are you invited?”

Mother turned to answer, but didn’t speak. Instead, she smiled and watched Leila finish her dance.

“To the faerie temple,” Leila answered with a grin. She pulled a parchment from the pocket of her dress. “See.”

I stared at the paper in her outstretched hand as if the markings were foreign. Plainly, in faerie symbols, was an invitation addressed to Leila Phillips—an invitation for an interview at the temple. I held my face in my hands and tried to grasp the moment. The Fae were considering my younger sister for my position.

“Good fortune,” I said to her politely, while trying to hide my true feelings—although I wasn’t certain what those feelings were. I offered nothing else. What could I say?

“Thank you.” Leila spoke with an air of satisfaction that seemed to mock me. She started spinning again. “Mother, may I go and tell Father? He’ll be so excited.”

“Go ahead, dear,” said Mother, smiling.

Leila pranced past me again and disappeared out the back door.

“Rhiannon, don’t!” Mother turned to me. Her face was stern.

Wind rattled the doors.

I looked back at her, surprised at her sudden change. “What?”

Mother had never spoken this way. The air in the room escaped and stole my breath. Somewhere, a cloud darkened the day and left the house in shadow. I heard Mother exhale.