On Fallen Wings (32 page)

Nothing.

Light from the moon penetrated the large window and highlighted the dining room in pale blue. I danced across the floor and grabbed the handle of the back door. Without looking, I pulled it open and welcomed the greeting of cold, fresh air.

“It’s all right, Rhiannon,” I whispered, releasing a sigh louder than I should have. I closed the door softly behind me. “You did it.”

I stood at the back wall of my home for a long moment, staring at the sky. I had slept longer than I planned. Above Taylor’s Ridge, violet streaks were beginning to form; dawn was coming. I kicked at the dirt and groaned in frustration.

“Should I do this?” I asked the night, hoping someone would step from the shadows and stop me. “I won’t make it back before sunrise.”

The only answer that came was chatter from night birds, who mocked my uncertainty with distant chirps and low whistles. With a hesitant rub, I absorbed all the courage I could drain from my necklace and strolled toward the road.

The air was warmer than I had expected. As I walked, sweat began to irritate my skin. A tepid breeze stirred the forest branches around me, and, in the distance, a few mighty oaks moaned a welcoming homage to the peace of the night air. The moon shined bright, although it hung low in the west, creating long bands of blue between the trees on the forest floor. I chose the shadows as my path.

Aisling was peaceful, and, excluding our celebrations, no one had a reason to be awake in the long stretch of darkness left by the sun. Except for me. My purpose was nobler than any cause; that’s what I told myself while dashing among shadows. When I arrived at the entrance of the Aspen Grove, I stopped and allowed my breathing and my heartbeat to calm. The fortress of trees bid me away with their solid unison.

Without stepping forward, I peered inside, straining my eyes as I attempted to focus. These woods were mysterious in the daylight, and terrifying in the dark. I turned back and straightened my stance while staring at the bare road. My eyes deceived me; the shadows in the distance leapt and jumped with mysterious foreboding. My lungs yelled out a warning with each breath. It wasn’t the noisy, animal filled, forest that I feared that night, it was the silence and the solitude; both awaited me with my next motion.

I stepped into the grove.

My first memory after that was the still air. Nothing moved except for me, and each of my footsteps on the deep dry leaves sounded an alarm to my presence. I was blind. The thick aspen trunks veiled the moonlight, making it impossible to see. I had always believed that the Aspen Grove was sacred because of its ability to nurture itself as a single life; however, that night, I found myself fearing the tight grip it held on everything. The grove was haunting.

The air was tight as the trees. I struggled to breathe while stepping cautiously and slowly forward. Somewhere ahead of me was a turn, but there was no marker, no worn trail, and nothing to see. The Fae rarely accessed the temple and we left no imprint of our journeys. Inside the grove, no one could find the sacred trees unless someone showed them the way, and each of my visits had been behind a long single file line of Fae, in daylight.

I turned when I thought I should, hoping my eyes would eventually train themselves to see—out of necessity—but received no reprieve from my weakness. I stumbled, and stepped, and reached my arms in front of me, pushing myself past the hidden trees and their suffocating adjacency.

 The night can play many tricks on a person, and that night, I had become its victim. I wandered through the grove, turning and returning, then doubling back to where I thought I had come from, but failed to find the temple. I wanted to scream, but the air clung tight. I felt like any effort to speak would give the forest a reason to suck the soul from my lungs. I was beginning to despise the Aspen Grove.

I wept; large noisy tears that splashed onto the leafy forest floor with thundering applause. Even my own emotions betrayed me during the most important journey of my life. I needed to speak. “Sean!” I yelled for him to help me.

The darkness snatched my words as soon as they left me, and replaced them with the pounding of my heart. I still couldn’t breathe.

“Sean!”

My voice echoed to my left. I couldn’t see it, but there was something close, something unlike this wooden abyss. I turned and followed the faint repeat, calling Sean’s name in short intervals. It wasn’t clear, but ahead of me—as the echo was louder there—I saw a circle of soft blue.

The faerie temple. When I reached the protection of the sacred trees, I gulped in large mouthfuls of air, as if I had finally risen to the top of a deep pool of water.

It wasn’t bright, and I still couldn’t see clearly, but it was something, and that’s all that mattered now. I felt hot, and I was sweating from my face. I removed my cloak, carefully placing it on the ground near the altar, and tugged at my dress, allowing the air to creep inside and cool my skin.

While enjoying the moment of relief, I stared at the sky. The moon wasn’t overhead, but its blue influence highlighted the trunks of these giants—from halfway up until their leafing roofs high above. Even the twisting, flowering angel vines appeared to stretch toward the blessing of moonlight. Straight above the temple, blue, orange, and bright white stars flickered in the night. I had never been to this place after dark, and felt comforted in its serene perfection. Here, I was alone with nature and full of peaceful energy. In this place, I was meant to do no wrong.

There was a purpose for coming, and I couldn’t enjoy the peace for too long. I knelt down and pulled the velvet bag from my cloak, emptying it. The crystal was dark and cold. Without wasting a moment, I pressed the key into the alter lock.

Brilliant red flashed so bright that I had to close my eyes. Despite my fear of the dark, I had become accustomed to it, and the light blinded me. As I looked again at the key, its light now pulsating like a beating heart, I noticed the gold. Thin lines of gold crossed the surface of the ruby, just like the ones on Nia’s emerald. I had never noticed them before. I had never seen the altar key up close. I allowed myself a moment of awe, then twisted the ruby and opened the vault. I reached inside the chilly box and pulled out the Fae Scrolls, then laid them on the altar.

I unlatched the bone buckle of the binding case, feeling as if I had done it many times, and shrugged away any intruding thought while opening the leather. Then I closed my eyes, removed the scrolls, and tucked them under my shoulder. I replaced the leather case under the altar and sealed it, making careful effort to retrieve its key and tuck it back into the velvet purse. Night covered the temple once more. I grabbed my cloak and fled back into the abyss.

I walked blindly back through the dark forest, though faster than my arrival, and discovered that leaving the grove was easy. I walked straight, in one direction, until I eventually saw moonlight glancing through branches and dead leaves. When I reached the outlying trees, I rushed to the freedom and the fresh open air. There, I took deep gasping breaths of cool refreshment.

After the encompassing solitude, the forest chatter around me was jarring. The chirps and whistles mixed with distant croaks, creating an alarming signal to my arrival; nature knew of my misdeed. Behind me, something jumped in the bushes. I clutched the scrolls to my chest and ran through the grass, toward the road.

As I dashed toward the safety of my home, the cold air hit my face and reminded me what I had done. I stopped running and removed the scrolls from beneath my cloak. I gazed at what I held with my trembling fingers; the sacred history of the village, wound tight and sealed with a leather chord. It was a helpless offering.
For what price?
My breath shook as reality caught me in a moment of panic.

“Sean?” I whispered. “What have I done?”

I didn’t move; I couldn’t. I stared at the scrolls without the awe they required, but with pity and spite. It wasn’t for Sean, or his captors, but for the traitor that I had become.
How did this happen?

I turned around and gazed at the grove. Before, it had seemed peaceful and loving; that’s all it had ever been to me. Tonight, I made it my enemy. I wanted to return the scrolls, and may have, but couldn’t find it within myself to doom Sean. Instead, I tucked them under my cloak, near my heart, and began a lethargic journey home. I no longer cared if the sun came up.

As suddenly as they had arrived to greet, the sounds around me abruptly ended. There was no chirping or croaks, only the whispers of a quiet wind and footsteps in the gravel.

“Who’s there?” I asked, barely audible. I was afraid to turn around.

The stepping continued. Now, there was more than one—I was certain. My breath shook in my ears. I clutched my chest. Someone touched my shoulder.

I screamed.

My legs found courage and took me away from that mysterious hand. I didn’t dare look back, but ran recklessly through the woods. Branches clawed at me, tangling my hair and cloak, but I was barely aware of them. My breath came in ragged sobs and my chest ached, but I could hear my pursuers. Men—at least two of them. They spoke to one another while following close behind. One of them was laughing.

“Help me, Sean,” I whispered between frantic breaths. “Help me.”

I was escaping, I thought, because I ran forever. When I arrived at the large trail to my home, I turned sharply and pushed my legs harder in the homestretch to safety. That’s when someone shoved me to the ground.

“Let go!” I screamed, fighting off the hands in the darkness.

“Rhiannon, stop.”

I stopped struggling and opened my eyes. “Cael?”

“Be quiet. I won’t hurt you.” He grabbed my arm and pulled me to my feet. “Are you okay?”

“No.” I stared at the darkness. “Who’s with you?” My voice was shaking.

“It’s okay,” said Cael. “He’s a friend of mine.”

“Friend?” I asked. “What friends lurk in the shadows?”

A short, hooded man stepped forward. His back was blocking the moonlight, and I couldn’t see his face.

I stepped back in fear. “What’s going on?” I asked. “Why are you here?’

Cael chuckled in a way that made my neck shiver. Then he stepped back. “The same reason you’re here,” he said. He said something over his shoulder to the man that I couldn’t quite hear. His words made them both laugh. “We’re trying to save Sean.”

I stopped panting. “Are you going to Morgan?”

“No,” said Cael. “We were waiting for you.”

I clutched my chest.

“We’ve been waiting all night.”

“All night?” I said. “How did you know that I would come?” The cold caught me and I shivered.

Cael turned to the man and whispered something else to him. Then he tugged me toward the trees. “I know you, Rhiannon. Better than you know yourself sometimes.”

“What does that mean?” I asked. I glanced over his shoulder at the man, who stood far away, out of earshot. I couldn’t see him clearly. I dug into my pocket and pulled out the velvet sack. “How did you get this?”

“Gaelle gave it to me,” he said.

“No, she didn’t,” I said sternly. “She isn’t allowed.” I shoved the sack into his open hand.

Cael gripped the velvet tight and grabbed my arm. “I took it,” he admitted. “Okay, I’m not perfect.” He thrust the sack into a pouch around his waist. “Don’t stand here in the dark condemning me for trying to save Sean. You said you needed the crystal. I told you before: I’ll do whatever it takes to set him free.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, “I never asked you to take the key. I just wanted you to know that I needed it to get the scrolls.” I opened my cloak and handed them forward. “Here they are.”

Cael gasped. “You—you really got them?”

“Be quiet,” I scolded, staring over his shoulder at the man. “Yes, I did. Can you save Sean?”

“Not tonight,” said Cael, staring down at the rolls of parchment. “It’s too close to dawn.” He looked up at me and shook his head. “How did you do this?”

“I won’t tell you,” I said. “Is that all they want—to release Sean?”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m told.” Cael kept staring at his hands. “I can’t believe you did it.”

I grabbed Cael’s chin and aimed his face to look at me. “Will you get them back once Sean is free?”

“What?” Cael stepped backward.

“Once Sean is free,” I said, “I want you to bring me back the scrolls. I’m going to put them back.”

“I—I don’t know if that will be possible.”

I reached out and grabbed his arm. “That’s the price I demand,” I said, glaring at him.

“For what?” he asked. “For helping me save Sean? That doesn’t make sense.”

“No,” I said, glaring. “For the kiss.”

Cael stood, open mouthed, and stared.

“I will tell everyone, including our fathers, about your dishonor, if you don’t bring me back the scrolls once Sean is free.” I paused, waiting for him to respond. When he didn’t, I kept talking. “And I want you to return the key to Gaelle—tonight.” I released his arm and flipped the satchel so that it struck him in the stomach.

“Rhiannon,” said Cael, gulping loudly. “About the kiss. I already—”

“I didn’t want it, Cael,” I said, no longer caring if the other man heard me. “And you knew better.”