Then We Fly

by Rebecca Salas

  “Why are we going to the castle?”

  “We?”

  “You then, why are you going to the castle?”

  “There’s a big party tomorrow. I plan to attend.”

  “Were you hoping to see someone in particular there?” If this hadn’t been a dream, I might have held my breath. Still, I felt taught with anxiety. We hadn’t known that she was coming to the castle. I could think of no good reason why Blake would have let her loose to attend.

  “Yes.” She paused a long time, and I waited to see if she would offer any more. I could feel, more than see her making some decision, I just didn’t know what it was. “I have business with the King. Do you know him? Do you perhaps, work for him?” My heart rate picked up noticeably and I faltered. “Or maybe you work for someone else.”

  “I…”

  “Never mind.” She dismissed my response. I waited a moment, unsure if I should press further. She still hadn’t turned to look at me, she may not recognize me from this dream when she arrived.

  “You have business with the king?”

  “Yes. He has decided to make an announcement tomorrow and I’m going to make sure he makes the right decision.”

  “About what?”

  “His heir. Too bad you won’t be there; I’ve been led to believe it’s going to be quite the affair.”

  “Perhaps I will attend.”

  “No. No, I don’t think you will. In fact, you will not.” The words were a command, and I felt the power of it. How? My blood ran cold. I needed to get out of here. “Stay. Stay right where you are. You may move again after the announcement has been made.” With her words, my limbs became heavy and constricted in a way I had never experienced, like each inch of me was bound up in cellophane. “And one more thing,” she spoke, and I wanted to run away, to escape the dream. Wake up! But I couldn’t. “No visitors. No talking. Bye now.” I began to hyperventilate, to thrash about in my own head. Naida was gone, flown away and left me behind. I was alone with nothing but the ocean below and the stars above. I tried to pursue her, to stay by her side, but I was helpless to leave that spot.

  Fynn! I called out, desperate, but it was like my voice wouldn’t carry. My mouth or perhaps my mind stuffed with cotton and my thoughts muted. Still, I screamed out in my thoughts to anyone that might answer. Again, the sensation of being packed in cotton.

  I looked up at the stars and their chiming continued. The only sound in the dark night.

  Zoya

  I pushed open Cora’s door. I knew the girl could be a deep sleeper, but I had been pounding on her door for a whole minute and I wanted to see her before Ell showed up to sweep us up into the hustle and bustle of party preparations. I loved a good party as much as the next princess, but I had bigger things on my mind.

  On her bed, Cora lay unmoving. Of all of the—

  “Cora!” I sang her name. “Wakey wakey, eggs and… well, actually I don’t like bacon. How about toast instead?” Still no response. Sitting down beside her I gently shook her arm, but it was stiff and unyielding. I looked her over from head to toe, poking her side as well. Her skin was taut, and she made no response. Panic began to build in my chest. “Cora, this isn’t funny.” I said the dread raising my voice an octave. “Cora!” I placed both hands on her shoulders, trying to shake her unmoving form.

  I turned at the sound of movement behind me in the room. Fynn had let himself in. His brows drawn up in confusion.

  “What’s wrong?” He hurried to my side. “Is she not feeling well?”

  “She’s stiff as a board and won’t wake.” Before the words were out of my mouth Fynn had gently pushed me aside and perched next to Cora on the side of her bed. He tried to take her hand in his, but I could see that he couldn’t lift it.

  “She’s still breathing.” He leaned close to her face. “Cora?” His voice barely audible. He rested his forehead against hers and closed his eyes. He sat that way for a long time.

  “Should I go get a doctor?”

  “No.” He shook his head without pulling away from her.

  Ell rapt her knuckles against the open doorway, and indignant look on her face.

  “I really don’t think it’s appropriate for you to be in this room, Fynn.” Yea, I definitely didn’t like her.

  “And I really don’t give a—”

  “Something’s wrong.” I cut him off. At my words her expression softened. Is Lady Reed unwell?” She said the title with some reverence.

  “She’s stuck.” Fynn answered through clenched teeth. “Frozen, or something. I’ve got to go.” He jumped up and headed to the door. “Tell no one. Don’t let anyone in. I’ll send Dorian to guard her door.” Fynn stopped outside her door and turned back to face me. “Don’t tell anyone, Zo.” He flicked his gaze to Ell. “I’ll inform anyone who needs to know.” He closed the door behind him and disappeared.

  In less than ten minutes Dorian showed up for guard duty, but I didn’t want to leave her side. At his arrival, Ell had hurried away making some apologies and excuses about party business. Dorian had only nodded at me politely and taken up position outside the door. I sat with her there, holding her motionless hand and speaking softly to her. There was nothing, no flutter of her eyes, no relaxing of her rigid posture.

  Voices in the hall pulled my attention away from Cora. I recognized Shea’s voice, and whispering my promise to return, I slipped out of the room.

  Dylan

  I hadn’t thought through the potential problems of showing up to a party when I was supposed to be being held captive. All I had thought about was how pretty Fayre would look in a dress, and how much fun it would be to teach her to dance with her new wobbly legs. They were really nice legs.

  I hadn’t expected to see Blake here. Cora had told me that he was the one who had me kidnapped in the first place. He was hoping to manipulate Fayre and in turn, her father, through me. We were walking around the castle gardens, practicing how to move on her pretty new legs. I was going to take her to a quiet spot to practice a bit of dancing before she had an audience tonight. Then Blake had walked around the corner ahead of us. I was so caught up in my conversation with her, admiring the way the sun glinted off her blond curls, now frizzy out of the water, I hadn’t seen him until it was too late.

  He eyed us with some curiosity, but there was no malice. I nodded tightly. Maybe he would think that we had agreed to do what he wanted. Seeing him here wasn’t a good sign though. I knew the things Cora had been seeing in her dreams. I had been relieved when she finally chose to talk to me. I knew she was keeping to herself, but it was just us now and we needed to stick together.

  He passed us by, in close conversation with some man who I didn’t recognize. Anger bubbled up in my chest as I remembered everything he had done, was still doing. That bastard had tried to kill my sister and here he was walking around like nothing had happened. Not to mention what he was currently up to. Who knew where that poor Naida girl might be? What she might be going through?

  Trailing behind him I noticed a pair of guards. Whether they were watching him or working for him I couldn’t be sure. I could only hope they were watching him.

  I tightened my grip on Fayre’s hand, wishing we were far away from all this nonsense. She responded with a warm smile, unaware of my inner turmoil. How was I going to keep her and Cora safe from him? I’d been useless last time. I wouldn’t be useless this time.

  Fynn

  Of course this was happening. Things were finally starting to look hopeful for us. It had been foolish to let myself hope. I raced through the castle halls, I needed to get her help. Real help. It was only two days ago that I had finally been able to tell her the truth. I had been sure she would hate me forever once she knew. How could she ever forgive me for keeping that secret? But, she didn’t stay angry. At least I didn’t think so. She had acted jealous around Nahwai and it had given me hope. We hadn’t had any time alone since I told her. There was still so much to be said.

  And now I could
talk to my heart’s content, but I might as well be talking to a wall. She wasn’t there. My breath hitched at the thought. She was entirely unmovable. Her skin had hardly flexed under my touch. And then there was her mind.

  She had been so open to me before. It had been so easy that I took it for granted. Slipping into her dreams was as easy as breathing, but now there was an impenetrable wall. I needed her to come back, needed more time. Maybe she would forgive me, maybe she wouldn’t, but I needed to know. If she chose to leave me behind, fine, I probably deserved it. It was what I had expected all along, but not like this.

  Turning a corner, I skidded to a stop. I straightened my shoulders and knocked on the door.

  Zoya

  “What’s up with big and intimidating over there?” Shea wagged his eyebrows in Dorian’s direction as we walked away.

  “Oh,” I waved a hand, “Iolanthe is feeling extra protective of her newly acquired family member.” Shea pouted.

  “I’m pretty sure she hates me.”

  “Cora?”

  “Iolanthe.”

  “She’s not quite over… what happened.” Anxiety filled my chest. What was happening again. I plastered an easy smile on my face. I hoped I was wrong. I wanted desperately to be wrong. I looked at Shea, my husband. Shea who I had loved, and hated, and mourned and found again. I wanted so desperately to trust him. I needed to trust him. It was dangerous to depend on one person so much, but I hadn’t learned my lesson.

  I was back in that same position, hopeless without him. If I lost him again it might kill me. I might let it. He smoothed his fingers over my furrowed brow.

  “It’ll be alright, Zo. We’ll bring her around. In fact,” his smile brightened, “let’s go see what she’s up to. Maybe we can lend her a hand in the preparations. And I can charm her with my excellent taste.”

  “Appetite, you mean.” At my words Shea rubbed his stomach with a wistful expression.

  “So much good food, and tonight we get to have it all over again!” He rubbed his palms together.

  We walked to the main hall where I expected to find my mother. Some women in her position might have delegated all the work to someone else, content to choose colors and approve designs someone else came up with. Iolanthe was not some women. Iolanthe was in the middle of everything. And what she couldn’t do herself she delegated to me as much as possible, not trusting it to be done right if it wasn’t one of us wrapped up in the process.

  When we found her, Shea threw himself into the work of arranging and rearranging the flowers, the lighting, the chairs.

  “Wouldn’t this screen look nice behind the throne? With the flowers on either side?” He asked. Admittedly it did look good, and Iolanthe said as much.

  “Well, isn’t this lovely.” Blake’s smooth voice had my attention snapping to the doorway.

  “Thank you.” Iolanthe’s response was a degree shy of frigid.

  Blake looked from me to Shea, his sneer barely concealed. He nodded at Shea and turned to leave.

  “I know he’s Byron’s eldest and all, but does he really have to be here?” I asked and Iolanthe sighed. “You know what he did to Cora, what he did to me.” Shea stiffened his eyes thoughtful.

  “Of course, I know. Byron is well aware of the trouble he’s caused; he is taking every precaution to make sure that he behaves today.”

  Shea returned to my side, his fingers brushing lightly down my arm, his eyes a tumult of emotions, but most clear of all was fear. What are you keeping from me, my love?

  Oran

  I tied and retied this ridiculous bowtie, too angry to do it right. I paused to take a breath and place the ice pack up to my cheek. In a few hours guests would begin swarming the halls. I needed to see one of my father’s healers and get this bruise cleared up before anyone saw me. Still, the bruise was the least of my worries.

  I hadn’t seen Cora since I arrived, and my mind was almost frenzied with worry. What was Dorian doing outside her door? I had tried to shove him aside, to make him let me in to see her. The man was dense as a rock. He had refused and made up some obvious lie about her not wanting to see anyone and how my father had placed him there for her protection before tonight. I had checked with him; my father knew nothing of it. But since Dorian was Fynn’s man, he brushed it aside.

  The king was too busy to worry about her. That trouble was left to me. It was always left to me, and I was always worried. Any moment she was out of my sight I was worried. And when she was within reach, that was almost worse. Her image played through my mind on a constant loop. Her smiles, her tears, they were perpetually on my mind.

  Finally dressed sufficiently, I hurried out, in search of answers. Fynn was the most likely to know what was going on, especially if Dorian had been involved, but who knew where I would find him. Zoya however, might be obtainable and she might have answers. I crossed the main hall and found her there, adjusting the already perfectly arranged table placements. At Iolanthe’s insistence no doubt.

  “Zoya, a word?” I spoke softly, unwilling to draw any unnecessary attention. Behind her Shea popped up, an overeager smile on his face. She neared me, false innocence on her face. She knew. I took her hand, wrapping her delicate arm around mine and ushering her to a quiet alcove, or at least, quieter than the center of the bustling hall. “What’s going on with Cora?”

  She looked from me to Shea, who had not stayed behind. “She’s not well.” She kept her voice low and casting a furtive glance behind us.

  “Not well, how?”

  “I’m not really sure. She…” she dropped her voice even lower and neared closer to me, putting what I hoped would be enough space between Shea and us, “She won’t wake.”

  My heart rate skyrocketed. “Go on.” I said, forcing calm into my voice that I did not feel.

  “I don’t know, Oran. She was fine last night, just a little tired maybe. This morning she wouldn’t wake. Wouldn’t move. It’s not natural. She’s stiff as a rock.”

  I dropped her arm without a word and walked away at a quick pace. Dorian was not going to keep me away from her. He had no authority over me, and Cora hadn’t asked me to stay away. Only the thought that it was what she had wanted had allowed me to back off before. I wouldn’t back down now.

  Fayre

  Shoes were, without a doubt, my least favorite part of having feet. The pair of feet I now had were lovely. I had copied them from Cora’s. When Nahwai had asked me to picture them clearly in my mind, it was too difficult, so instead I focused all my attention on Cora’s feet. Them seemed nice enough as far as feet were concerned and I figured they would serve a sufficient template for my own.

  I had not expected how awkward they would be. I was constantly tripping. I had stubbed my poor lovely toes more times than I could count. The only positive in the matter was that tripping afforded me more opportunities to grab hold of Dylan. I smiled at the thought.

  But now as I looked down at my feet, caged into these ridiculous shoes which made it look like my feet were poorly bandaged in stiff leather, with what I could only assume was some sort of dagger attached at my heel, I grimaced. I wanted to touch the ground. I wanted a chance at being at least a little bit graceful.

  I was about to dance in front of the king himself and I did not want to make a complete fool of myself. Ell, who Cora had sent to assist me in picking out appropriate clothing had insisted that shoes were necessary. Not to mention this dress.

  Being out of the water seemed to make all these mer so uncomfortable that they felt an inescapable urge to wind themselves up in yards of tight-fitting fabric that wrapped around, and hid, their legs and made movement awkward. Why were they so ashamed of their lovely legs? I would be content to wear nothing so that everyone could see what I had worked so hard to gain.

  Dylan had not supported my thought. In fact, he seemed to become quite ill. I was genuinely concerned at the shade of red that had overtaken his entire face at my suggestion. And so, at the insistence of Ell and Dylan, I was wrapped u
p tighter than a birthday present in fabric, and my feet bound like they posed a threat to the other party-goes. And with that dagger at the bottom, maybe they did.

  I liked the color of the dress at least. It was a lovely purple that reminded me of sea urchins. Dylan’s face lit up when I came out of my room, so I was reasonably sure that he approved. Then came the walking.

  These shoes would have to go. I nearly landed on my face on my first step, the billowing skirts only serving to tangle up my knees and range of motion. This was decidedly a torture device. Dylan hid a snort of laughter in his arm and I fought to maintain a sense of dignity as I clung to his arm desperate not to fall again.

  There were already crowds of people milling about through the halls, their colorful dresses reminding me of the coral beds. Slowly, very slowly, I began to walk with a small portion of ease. Music floated through the halls, played on unfamiliar instruments. Turning the corner into the hall I admired the million candles burning on every table and every wall. Fire was new. I had discovered it was a strange beast with a tendency to bite. Thankfully, it was scared away by a bit of wind.

  Here though, the fire cast a magical glow around the room. Dylan held me at arms distance, and I fought to stay upright. Making a slight bow, he spoke.

  “Shall we dance?” I smiled but almost lost my balance in these ungainly shoes.

  “First things first.” I said, easing myself into a chair. I removed the absurd foot contraptions and tucked them away in a corner of the room. I may now be scandalously naked from the ankle down, but with the long dress, I suspected no one would notice. What they would notice however was my falling on my face while attempting to dance.

  I offered an elegant curtsey, now much steadier with my feet touching the cool stone. Dylan danced well. Or at least that’s what it appeared to me. This kind of dancing was new to me, I enjoyed the bounciness of it. As we spun I gained an appreciation for the way my skirts flowed around me, my own personal waving ocean. Maybe this was why the land-bound mer wore them. They too longed for what they couldn’t have and sought to hide the legs that they did have.