Enchanting the Fey- The Complete Series

by Rebecca Bosevski

  “I’m not done. Another symbol appeared over it, hiding in the design.”

  I continued to draw the second symbol. Traflier gasped in a breath of air as if he had seen a ghost and then, before I knew what to do or say, he grabbed it from me. He held it close to his face, the tips of his fingers turning white for a moment before he lessened his hold and the blood returned.

  He lowered it slowly as he spoke. “Sorry my dear, I did not mean to shock you. I haven’t seen that symbol in years—decades. It is the Stail—the symbol of the first of our kind. We call ourselves Stalisies in her honor. It intertwined with the eye of light did it, over your mother’s symbol?”

  My mother’s symbol, I thought as I waited for Traflier to continue.

  “I don’t know what this might mean,” he said as he examined the drawing.

  “I want to know everything,” I said, a little more desperately than I intended.

  “If you want more answers, my dear,” he said, folding my drawing and placing it under his robe. “You will need to start reading.”

  “And I have just the books,” Grace said as she re-entered the room, stepping around Traflier to place them on the end of the bed.

  “Seriously, books?”

  Traflier placed his hand over mine, “only by knowing our history can we truly know ourselves.”

  “I failed History.” I said reaching down the bed and grabbing the top book. Grace gave me a wink and left the room. “The book of E. What kind of title is that?” I asked plonking back onto the pillows.

  “They are a part of a set,” Traflier said grabbing another book from within the pile and holding it out to me.

  “The Book of E and The Book of L both will give you insight into the Tanzieth history, what become of their race after the division.

  “My father is Tanzieth isn’t he?”

  “Yes, but you are a Stalisies like your mother. Now I have things I must attend to, call on Grace if you need anything.” He made his way to the doorframe and paused.

  “Desmoree, we are so very happy you are here, with or without a prophecy.”

  I smiled weakly and turned to the books in my lap.

  “What if I can’t?” I began, looking up at where he had stood, but he had already gone. I had wanted to ask what would happen if I couldn’t do it, what if I couldn’t adjust, couldn’t be the one they hoped I was, but that like many of my other questions would have to wait.

  I took a breath and turned the page. “The Tanzieth’s separation from the Stalisies was an unavoidable requirement to protect both species,” it read. “God I hope it all isn’t like this.” I continued to read in silence.

  After who knows how long, I rubbed my eyes, weary after thumbing through the abnormally large books, all of which Traflier wrote.

  I turned another page in The Book of L. Drawn in perfect detail were a pair of blue slippers someone named Artell spelled magic to allow him to fly. The keepers burned the shoes, after recording their likeness.

  My shoes!

  Grace told me the ninth Nazieth would retrieve my belongings when the time came. I don’t see how it could be that hard to go through the way we came and get them. Moyeth and Grace tried to explain how the portal worked, how it was linked through various locations around the world with exceptional magical force. Due to the fact that Earth and energy both moved, the portals had to be read and tracked, or you could end up crossing through to an opening at the bottom of the ocean, and last I checked being a fairy didn’t also come with the ability to withstand immense pressure and breathe under water.

  I would figure it out, though, like everything else about this place. Then I would go back and get my shoes, or I could just go home and try to forget about this place altogether, but then I would be alone, and nuts as they may be, it was nice having family again.

  I never wore a watch and I found myself missing my phone for its ability to keep track of the time and keep up with the world. Not that I was likely to be able to Google “how to defeat the Dazerarthro.”

  The books explained how light here didn’t change the way it did back home, which I am assuming will make it hard for me to tell when one day ended and the next begins.

  I’d kept mostly to myself after my mother died—moved to the city, started freelance work, and bought shoes. My mum had seen shoes as a necessity, not a luxury. As a single mum, she had to, but when I started my first job, my entire first pay had gone to the prettiest shoes I could afford after that I gave as much as I could to my mother. I had to hide the money in various spots around the house for her to find, as she wouldn’t take it willingly. She always hid money around the house, so she didn’t seem to notice I had been adding to it, or she didn’t say anything. I had only started to etch out my own life when she passed and now all this.

  I turned to another page in the book when a booming knock broke the peaceful silence of the room.

  My heart leapt into my throat and I sat bolt up. The knock came again and I slapped my hand over my heart, willing it to slow as I took a forced breath.

  Moyeth popped his head around the doorway. “Are you alright?” he asked. “You look… weird.”

  “You scared the crap out of me, try knocking softer next time!”

  “My apologies, but I thought you would be ready by now.”

  “For what?”

  He rolled his eyes. “Your welcome home feast, didn’t we tell you about it earlier?”

  “Pretty sure I would have remembered that. But doesn’t matter anyway,” I said, scooching back on the bed and pulling the covers over my knees. “I’m not going. Just tell them I’m sick or something.”

  My movement nudged the book I had been reading over the edge of the bed. In one swift movement, Moyeth lunged, caught it with one hand, closed the cover with his fingers, and placed it on the bedside table beside me.

  “Impressive.”

  “Desmoree, the feast is in your honor, to welcome you home. I certainly will not tell them you are sick. Now get up and get ready.”

  “Come on, you of all people can’t believe all this crap about me being the prophesized one.”

  “I believe in the seers, and if they have foretold you to be the one who will save the Fey from the Dazerarthro, then yes. I believe that, too.”

  “How can you be sure?” I asked picking up the book. “It doesn’t even mention the seers in here, just the scrolls. How do you know they aren’t just making crap up?”

  He grabbed the chair and moved it to sit beside me. “The books can’t tell you about the seers; it is forbidden to write about them. They each see glimpses of past present and future. Many prophecies came from visions shared by them all. Look, if you attend this feast, I will take you to meet them.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yes, but don’t look at me like this is a good thing. The seers are not normal Fey. They are tired of this world and their longing for the day they can leave this plane. Do not ask them more than what you are certain you wish to know. The answers are usually not what is expected.”

  “Great, okay. Now get out and I will get dressed into something befitting a feast for the chosen one.” I laughed at my own joke.

  Moyeth attempted to conceal a smile, but the corners of his mouth twitched, betraying him. He left the room as I flicked through the minimum attire I had been provided with when another knock came.

  “It takes me more than thirty seconds to dress, especially with these options,” I called, but the knock came again.

  I huffed and grabbed the handle swinging the door open. “What now?”

  Moyeth held out a folded royal blue stack of shimmery fabric. “This just arrived. Perhaps it will be suitable for you to wear.”

  “Ohhhh pretty.” I snatched it from his hands and closed the door. “Thanks, be out in a sec.”

  I unfolded the delicate silk fabric, revealing it to be a stunning shoestring strap dress. The silk caught the light and a shimmer moved, almost lifelike, across its surface. I greedily sli
pped into it, thankful to feel some sort of normalcy, even if it was vain. My blue pumps would work perfectly with this dress. I missed them, and my other pretties.

  Maybe when I meet the seers I can ask them how to work the gateway that got me in here. That way, I can flee this cuckoo’s nest and go back to my life and my shoes.

  The knock came again.

  “Okay, I’m ready, I’m ready,” I yelled as I opened the door. “So, how do I look?”

  He smiled and nodded. “You look ready. Let’s go.”

  “Man, you really need to work on your compliments, cause if that’s all I get for all this,” I said, running my hands down my body seductively, “then I don’t see many second dates in your future. And I don’t need a Seer to prophesies that.”

  “Come along,” he said. I followed him through the narrow alleyways that separated the buildings. The cobblestones softly massaged the bottoms of my feet and I was thankful I chose not to wear shoes.

  The light from the golden sky didn’t completely darken, but it did dim to show more of a tarnished sky. The flecks of light that had previously glistened now barely twinkled. The streets were like a maze, each corridor looking the same as the last, the buildings all made of the same large stone bricks. I opened my arms out to run my fingers down both walls as I continued to follow Moyeth.

  At the end of the third corridor, I began to hear it. It began as a soft hum, growing like a swarm of bees readying for their attack. I slowed as we rounded the last corner and looked past Moyeth to the ballet of brilliant colors swimming in the space ahead of us.

  “What is that?” I asked.

  He turned towards the light show behind him and back to me, but his brow was furrowed and his mouth kinked upward at one side. “Desmoree, this is your feast, come on, the dancing has begun.”

  “Don’t you see it?”

  “See what?” he said, walking back towards me. “All I see is people dancing, what do you see?”

  “Light.”

  “Light?” He turned back to the vision before me. “What do you mean, light?”

  “I can see rainbows of color snaking their way around each other, it’s incredible. You really can’t see it?”

  “No, I can only see the people.”

  A woman called out Moyeth’s name and a flash of green almost blinded me, forcing my eyes closed. When I opened them again, the ballet of colors was gone and I could see only what Moyeth had described: a sea of people dancing in the space ahead.

  “Dammit, it’s gone.”

  “Oh well, come on, let’s get this feast underway.”

  “Yes, let’s.” I grinned, taking his arm and letting him lead me down the last of the corridor and into the sea of people.

  I was swamped almost immediately by people touching my arm, shaking my hand or simply wishing me a happy return, but Moyeth held onto my arm and continued to steer me through the crowd towards a large table where Traflier sat along with a few others. He stood when he saw us and gestured to the seat beside him, then waved a dismissive hand towards the crowd. They backed off, allowing us an easier path through.

  “Thanks,” I said pulling out the chair beside Traflier. “That was intense.”

  “They are glad you are home.” Traflier took a seat and nodded at me for me to do the same.

  “It doesn’t feel like home. I keep thinking it will just click and make sense all of a sudden, but the more I read about this place and what you think I am, the more like a dream it seems.”

  “You will soon my dear, you will see, it will all make sense. You will come to see this place as your home I am sure.” He laid his warm hand over mine and I was reminded again of my mother.

  “You belong here; this is your home.”

  “I had a home already,” I mumbled under my breath as I turned to look at the swarm of people dancing to the odd music. He didn’t hear me, or if her did, he didn’t react. Moyeth slid into place beside me. Even seated he towered over me.

  The music was a sweet melody of hollow drum beats and chimes. The people were all dressed in a similar shimmery fabric to my own but in varying colors. All swayed and spun to the beat, some couples twisted under each other’s arm in a freeform waltz. The majority wore simple flat shoes that allowed for easy movement of the cobblestone floor, but one pair of shoes caught my eyes through the masses: sparkly, olive green, and undoubtedly not flats.

  I was about to stand to go and get a better look when Moyeth growled beside me.

  “You invited him?” he asked, shooting Traflier a glare. “He tried to kill her.”

  “Kill me, wait, what?” I caught on when I saw him. Jax moved slowly around the outside of the crowd. A few shot him sly looks of disapproval, others turned on their heels and moved away from him completely.

  “He is a student under my tutorage. He is entitled to be here, Moyeth, and it will serve you well to be pleasant. Let’s not make a scene on this happy night.”

  “Pfft,” was his mature reply and he stood and left the table, disappearing in the throng of dancers.

  “Why is he so miffed?” I asked nudging Traflier’s elbow. “I’m the one he tried to kill. And why is everyone looking at him like that? Do they know he tried to kill me?”

  “They do not. They have, as you might call it, cultural differences. You know that Jax is a Tanzieth. I might be able to see past that, but many Fey still do not.”

  “Why don’t they look at me that way then? My father is Tanzieth isn’t he?”

  “He is, but you are my great grand-daughter and the prophesized savior.” He nodded then took a sip from an ornate goblet.

  I looked at the one that sat in front of me. Vines curved around the stem, up, and over the lip, disappearing beneath the red liquid inside. I lifted it to my nose. It smelled of peaches and vanilla. I took as sip as Jax rounded the table and knelt in to whisper to Traflier. It tasted like cherries and cola. I downed the entire glass.

  “He can wait,” Traflier said, not trying to keep his voice low.

  I looked across the table for the bottle, hoping to get some more of the delicious red drink. A woman appeared in front of the table, an equally ornate jug in her hand.

  “May I?” she asked gesturing to my glass.

  “Absolutely, thanks,” I said, holding it out to her. The liquid was about to spill over the lip of the jug and I saw that is was dark sewer green, thick and shiny. “Wait, what is that?” I asked, pulling my glass away, almost causing her to pour the slush onto the table.

  “It is Dromeir.”

  “Can I have that nice red drink I had before?”

  She giggled. “Watch as I pour,” she said and I tentatively raised my glass a little. “Look inside your glass, not at the liquid leaving the jug.”

  I leaned forward to peer inside, and the green sludge she poured blended to a rich red swirling in the bottom of my glass. The scent of peaches and vanilla rose from the goblet.

  “How?” I asked.

  “Dromeir is a celebration drink, brewed for happy occasions such as this. It will change itself to be exactly what each Fey wishes to taste.”

  “Oh, okay, keep filling her up then,” I said, again raising my glass. “I have a lot to learn.”

  She smirked and continued to fill my cup until the red liquid sat just beneath the lip of the goblet.

  “Jax, would you like some of this Dromeir stuff?” I called across Traflier.

  The woman coughed and slowly walked towards Jax, pouring him only a half glass of the brew. He raised it to me and smiled before taking a second to smell it as I had, then taking a sip himself. An unexpected warmth rushed through me when he smiled and I returned my eyes to the Fey still dancing.

  We ate and I watched the twirling Fey, hoping to see those green shoes again. Moyeth returned only to invite me to dance, to which I expediently declined. I didn’t dance. I could bust a move with the best of them in a club back home, but this was something different.

  He pressed again, “come, Desmoree. Your sto
mach is full, you have had much Dromeir. You are home. Come dance, be merry with us.”

  “One dance, then you take me to the Seers.”

  Traflier grabbed my hand. “The Seers?” He shot a concerned look between me and Moyeth.

  “Yes, Moyeth said he would take me to meet them after the party. Why, what’s wrong?”

  “Moyeth, you should not have promised such a thing. You did not request an audience with them, you cannot impose—”

  “They asked to see her.” Moyeth cut him off.

  “They what?” I asked, glaring at Moyeth. “You never said that. You told me I could only go see them if I came here first. You tricked me.”

  “You had a good time, the Fey wanted to see you. I did not say you could not meet them if you had chosen not to come.”

  Traflier let go of my hand and stood, gesturing for Moyeth to join him to the side. They walked off to talk and left me sitting alone with Jax as the others who had joined us to eat had all returned to the dance floor as soon as their stomachs were full.

  I could sense him looking at me. “What?” I asked without turning to face him. “What is it?”

  “Did you have fun?” he asked, and I felt him move to the seat Traflier had vacated. “You look very nice.”

  “Thanks,” I said, shifting in the seat a little when the warm feeling returned.

  “Do you know why Traflier freaked like that?”

  “The Seers are old, and like to keep to themselves. It takes a lot out of them to foretell the things they do, so Traflier restricted their audiences to one a month. The list is quite long. They hardly ever request to see someone. He probably just thought Moyeth was letting you jump the que.”

  “Oh, okay. So you are learning from Traflier?” I asked, remembering what Traflier had said to Moyeth about him being under his tutorage.

  “I would say it is a mutual education.” He laughed and reached across me to a plate of soft sweet buns.

  I turned to him and all at once his eyes, his lips and his heart smiled at me. I turned back to the crowd again in an attempt to hide my unease. What the hell is going on with me?