Whisper and Rise (25 page)

The still surface of the lake reflected the white of a few clouds and the blue of an afternoon sky. It was mesmerizing, like looking at a giant mirror aimed toward the heavens; I didn’t want to turn my head away. A thin breeze tickled the trees and laced the air with a hint of lilac that made me smile. Then a small cough diverted my attention back to the meadow.

“You should come and enjoy this,” I told my mother. “It’s soothing.”

“I’ve never liked the lake,” she said, brushing her dress clean with her hands while standing. “I don’t understand how you can bear it—after everything that’s happened to you.” She caressed the tips of the long grass with her open palm. “I prefer the sanctuary of the forest.”

I collected a tiny flat stone and tossed it at the water. It bounced three times before succumbing to the depths. Small ripples rolled across the shine and disrupted the image for a brief moment. I stepped away from the shore and approached my mother.

“The lake doesn’t bother me,” I admitted. “Neither does Morgan.” With a loving pull, I squeezed her close to me; it felt good to feel her warmth again. A shadow had lifted from my heart, and with it went much of my bitterness. There was balance in our relationship now. We had seen each other at our worst and made the choice to let the past go. “Now that I know they aren’t the cause of any of this, there’s nothing to fear from them, nothing to hate.”

Mother leaned on my shoulder. “You’re amazing, Rhiannon. I hope that you’ll be happy living at this place.” She stepped away and plucked a seeded grass tip. “It is refreshing here. There’s no hint of the lingering stench from the fires.”

Mother was right. The trees in Aisling still carried the smell of the flames that had nearly destroyed our village. Here, the leaves were green, not wrinkled and twisted, and brown. Although it was past noon, the day felt like dawn, fresh and brilliant. I wandered to the top of my little hill, the place where I would soon build my home, and gazed at the trees. This was my land, my forest. I allowed my thoughts to drift toward memories of Sean and imagined, for a moment, raising a family. In my mind, I saw small children running across the long grass, chasing one another and reaching toward unseen butterflies. I heard laughter. I could feel Sean’s warmth cover me like a cozy blanket. These were all things that would never happen. But I could still dream.

The sound of hooves broke the day. Ethan arrived on horseback, and when he saw Mother, he waved his arms and yelled. Maeia stopped grazing and looked up with interest.

“Hurry!” yelled Ethan. He leaned too far forward and fell to the ground. “Rhiannon, you need to come home.”

I laughed at my brother’s words and the sight of him scrambling to stand. “This is my home,” I told him, covering my face to avoid rudeness. I trotted down the hill. “Why are you in such a hurry?”

Scampering toward me, Ethan motioned with his arms for me to approach. “You need to come,” he repeated. “There’s a messenger.”

“A messenger?” Mother leaned an arm toward my brother and caught his tunic with her hand. “From whom?”

Ethan tried to wriggle away, but Mother’s grip was too strong. “The Fae,” he said, scowling back at her. “They sent you a message.” He reached into his tunic pouch and revealed the folded parchment. When Mother released him, he ran the rest of the distance to me and thrust it into my hand. “Here,” he said, “read this.”

The paper was sealed. I held it in front of me and stared at the writing while falling to my knees.

For Rhiannon Phillips. An invitation from Raisa Bannon.

“Open it.” Mother hovered over me and poured her eagerness onto my shoulders with quickened breaths.

I couldn’t. My hands trembled with anticipation.
What did the Fae want with me?

The last summons they had sent me plunged me into a nightmare—a life I was now starting to accept. I looked back at my mother for support.

She smiled and nodded. “It’s okay, Rhiannon.”

I dropped the letter in the grass and ran to the trees, wiping my hair back while attempting to breathe. The sky was lowering, the tiny meadow shrinking, and my world felt as if it was collapsing around me.
It wasn’t okay.
I didn’t know what to do.

“Rhiannon?” Mother’s voice seemed distant.

I turned to face her, barely able to focus from behind a flood of fresh tears. I could see her smiling.

“I’m here with you,” she said. “It’s okay.”

Like a child, I ran back to her. I collapsed in her arms and bawled into her dress. “How do you know?” I asked, pleading between sobs. “How can you know?”

Mother whispered and caressed my hair with her fingers. “Look at the day. It’s too perfect to spoil with bad fortune.”

Her words made me smile, although my tears continued to soak her dress. I shivered for a moment and listened to the peaceful rhythm of her heartbeat. I opened the letter. She was right. Mother was always right.

~ O ~

Cheerful little birds called overhead while I removed Maeia’s saddle and bridle. A flock of kingfishers, their brilliant colors flashing in the sun, caressed the sky and welcomed the journey. My heart lifted and tickled my chest.
What did the Fae have in store for me?
I danced a step and placed the leather in the stable. Then I scooped a handful of oats into a trough and pulled fresh water from the well.

“It’s our future again,” I told Maeia, stroking her behind the ears.

She answered with nod before devouring her meal. Father waved to me from outside the barn. He was spinning rope. I smiled back and leapt to his side.

“Did you see the message?” he asked.

I answered with a hug and held my summons high. “Do you know what it’s about?”

Father squeezed me tight. “It’s your future,” he said. “Whatever the faeries have in store for you, they’re not revealing to anyone.”

“Have they filled Dylia’s position?”

He shook his head. “I haven’t been told.”

What if the Fae were considering me as a Prospect?
It didn’t make sense. It didn’t match tradition.
How could I meet their requirements?
I wasn’t perfect—I was far from it. My breath danced with anticipation. I pulled away from my father.

“What do you think will happen?” I had to ask him.

He shook his head again. “It doesn’t matter what the faeries do.” He watched me for a moment before drawing back, as if changing his mind about what he intended to say next. He parted his beard with a grin.

I stared, unsure what I was waiting for, and then swallowed the moment as emotion caught me. I leapt into his arms again and offered a farewell hug. “For my future,” I said.

If a walk through the forest had ever been perfect, the steps I took through Aisling met that description. Soft wind lifted leaves as I passed, cheerful giggles and laughs of children weaved between the trees, and the fluttering of my heart pulled me toward the long grass of Stone Meadow. When I reached the end of the trees, I stopped to straighten the crimson dress mother had fashioned. A perfect fit, its skirt flowed like waves caressing my ankles. I felt elegant in the fabric. I slipped out of my sandals—the cool grass welcomed my bare feet—then I stepped toward the stone towers.

Twenty-six faeries stood at the base of the stones waiting for me. They wore white gowns with golden shawls. Their heads were covered, but their smiles reached me. I took a breath of courage. My arms tingled and I couldn’t feel my fingers. Another step forward.
What future awaited me?

No whispers or words welcomed me, only smiles. The bright faces of the Fae watched as I reached them. They seemed to have questions, the same as mine. Madeline ushered me toward the Season Stone. I smiled when I reached it.
If they only knew its secret?
The other Fae followed. Raisa was silent. Only the wind whistling past rock made any sound.

My heart beat faster.

We entered the circle; everyone stood close, surrounding me. I looked around them, over them. The white and gold they wore provided a strike contrast with the green of the grass between stones. So was the silence. The Fae dropped to the grass. I stood there, trying to breathe, looking down at them. Around me was a cloud of gold and white, like an angel vine flower within the sanctuary of the stones, the temple on a grander scale. I looked around, absorbing the moment—taking in the peace.

Then Abigail Bree stood. “Rhiannon,” she said. It was only a whisper, but in the silence, my own name swirled around us.

I shivered and swallowed my fear. Then I shifted my footing.

Leila stood and said my name, then Madeline, and then Sadie. One by one, the faeries of Aisling stood and whispered my name. In fantastic swirls, their words mixed until fading into the sky. Raisa stepped toward me.

“We have a gift for you,” she said. For the first time in a season, I saw kindness in her eyes. She wasn’t my queen, she wasn’t an enemy; I saw her as a friend.

“A gift?” my voice failed me.

Abigail approached and stood beside her. She smiled and hugged me. In the sunlight, her warmth was welcoming. She smelled like roses. “You know the rules,” she said, whispering into my ear. “You can never come back to the Fae.”

I swallowed. “I know.” A tear touched my cheek. I didn’t know what to expect.

“So we’re giving you a piece of us.” Abigail leaned back and held her hands forward. “If you can’t return, we want to come with you.”

I fought another tear.

In her hands, Abigail opened a silk cloth with golden lace. Her Boil Stone lay in her palms. “Take it,” she told me. “It’s yours.”

I stared at her hands. Boil Stones were the light of the Fae. Their magic broke the darkness and they shined brighter than any lantern or flame. This stone had helped us find my gift for Sean—the armor he sought as a marriage requirement.

“I’m not a faerie,” I whispered. I wiped my eyes with the sleeve of my dress and looked at the rest of them, searching for the answer. “I have no right to this.”

“You will always be our friend,” said Raisa. “I looked out my window this morning. Do you know what I saw?”

I waited for her to continue.

“Crimson,” she said. “The sky was dark and red.” She traced her finger along my sleeve. “You are the Crimson Giver, once a faerie and now our sister forever. Welcome near, and always within our hearts.”

“Crimson Giver.” The others repeated Raisa’s words.

“You deserve this,” said Abigail, pressing the crystal and the cloth into my hand. “I want you to have it.”

I held it close and opened the cloth. The crystal was clear, lifeless, and warm. I wiped my eyes again. “What do I do?” I asked Raisa.

“Heal,” she answered. “This is a new beginning. No one in Aisling has seen what you have. No one knows what you know. You are unique and special. You must define your future.” She covered my hand and the stone. “Heal yourself and then help Aisling.”

I grabbed her and pulled her close, offering my warmth. I hadn’t expected this. I didn’t know what I expected. I wasn’t a Faerie, not like them; I never could be. I smiled inside knowing that they understood our difference.

But I knew more than they realized. Over her shoulder, I looked at the Season Stone and thought of the man who had disappeared within. Darian had a closer tie to this sacred place than I ever had. He possessed a secret that I would never learn. An innocent man whose fate had joined with mine out of tragedy. I wished he were here. I wiped me eyes and pulled away from the Faerie Queen.

When I released her, Raisa turned and sifted through the white and gold. Abigail hugged me and then followed her. Madeline came next. She was crying. I wiped her tears with my dress and patted her head while embracing her. The smell of minty rose covered her. One by one, the faeries walked single file across Stone Meadow and disappeared into the trees. Leila was last and didn’t leave me.

“This place is magical,” she said. She took my hand and pulled it close to her.

Stone Meadow was ours. Leila, in gold and white, me in crimson. She was a faerie by right and selection, and I was free from the burden of my past. We were sisters in the shadow of the Season Stone. Bound by blood and love.

~ O ~

The End

~ O ~

Rhiannon’s tale continues with
SEEK AND BELIEVE
, coming April 2015.