***
After snoozing my alarm several times, I slogged out of bed. All-nighters and nightmare-filled sleep were wearing on me. I took a quick glance in the mirror above my dresser and immediately averted my eyes at the sight of the bruises forming beneath them. I ran a brush through my ratty red hair until it resembled something that would pass as non-feral and covered myself in my red bathrobe before heading out to the apartment, where the smell of coffee lured me.
But it wasn’t Julie who stood in the kitchen. It wasn’t even… a human. A cold gasp solidified in my throat as I stood just outside my bedroom door and stared at the being rummaging around in my kitchen. Feminine and pure white from head to toe. Skin like a Roman statue, stark snow-white hair cascaded down her back like threads of silk.
I swallowed nervously, unable to blink. She had no idea I was standing there, and I watched in disbelief. I noted a pair of delicate white wings tucked neatly at her back as she moved about. She finally spun around, a frying pan in hand, and saw me. I backed up a step as she smiled so lovely, her crystal white eyes blinking widely between two delicately pointed ears.
“Morning!” she greeted with a musical voice layered with something familiar.
Panic coursed through me. “What… who are you? How did you get in my house?”
The fairy’s beautiful face pinched in confusion. “Av’, what are you talking ab–” The slight bit of rose in her dainty cheeks washed away, and her white eyes bulged from their sockets. She set the frying pan down cautiously, never taking her eyes off me. “Avery.” She took a step closer, and I retreated. She held up both empty palms. “Av’, it’s me. It’s Julie.”
I shook my head. Words evaded me. This was just another dream, another nightmare.
“Can you see me?” she asked. I only managed a shaky nod. “Like… see me?” I nodded again but then assessed my ways out. Julie blocked the only exit. “Let me explain–”
I bolted back inside my bedroom and locked the door behind me before shoving the dresser up against it. My chest heaved and burned with frantic breaths. What was happening to me? Why were there fairies everywhere? I had to get away. My head swirled, refusing to settle. I slid open my window without another thought and crawled down the fire escape.
I ran in my sock feet through the city, up and down the beautiful historic streets of downtown Halifax. My heart burned in my chest. I had no idea where I was going. I just had to… go. Get away from it all. Some part of me, however small, still wondered if Lattie was a figment of my imagination. That the Fae I rescued last night was just part of some twisted nightmare.
Until now. Until I beheld my best friend standing in our kitchen. But she wasn’t my best friend at all. Julie was… Fae. Some sort of ethereal, snow-white being. So different from any fairy I’d ever seen. I wondered, as my feet paddled down the sidewalk of a quiet street, just how many other Fae there really were.
Then my thoughts wandered as I blindly walked. Julie lied to me. For years. Did she seek me out when we were kids? If so, why? What purpose did she have to insert herself in my life? She always said that she spent her childhood as an orphan, bouncing from family to family until the Ryans stuck. But it was also the same time she’d met me.
My mind tightened and swirled, throbbing at my lobes. I had no clue what was happening to my life. Fairies seemed to pop up everywhere. Some good, some… not so good. But, as much as I entertained the idea that Julie might have ill intent, I couldn’t bring myself to believe it.
A canopy of orange, red, and yellow filtered the street. Some of the oldest houses in Halifax were on this street. I stopped in front of that Gothic Victorian corner lot. Celadine’s. I stared up at the intricate black trim work, the deep violet wood siding. A rounded turret made up the front left corner, adorned in several round windows, like giant portholes.
I don’t know what brought me here. My mind still fought to catch up with the rest of my body. But here I was, outside my boss’s door, at the crack of dawn. In my bathrobe, I noted as I glanced down with a disgruntled sigh. The iron gate moaned as I pushed it open and stepped inside the quiet property of Celadine’s home.
A crow gently cawed from the top of a maple tree, the sound trickling down through the black-purple leaves. I walked toward the spacious front porch; long garden planters built of stone on either side of the short staircase. Black flowers and succulents of all sorts of varieties spilled out of them. A gothic garden. I smiled. How fitting for Celadine. She was like a gothic goddess, so striking, so beautiful with her never-ending tattoos over pale skin, her violet cat eyes, the heap and tangle of braids and twists and beads that she kept swirled atop her head.
I pinched the old brass door knocker between my fingers and gave a few taps on the door. I suddenly regretted coming here. I felt like a fool. What would I say? How would I explain the state of my appearance? What could have possibly driven me to walk here in my sock feet and bathrobe that wouldn’t make Celadine think I was insane?
The deep plum-colored door swung open, and Celadine stood just inside the shadow of the covered porch. Words dried up in my throat. She looked… tired. I’d never seen so much as a wrinkle in her clothing before, let alone tired. Her violet stare behind her cat-eye glasses was puffy with remnants of broken sleep. Her skin seemed even paler than usual.
“Avery,” she croaked sleepily and curiously scanned the space behind me. “Is everything alright?”
I hugged myself tightly. “Yes. I mean, no. Not really. I just… I’m sorry for showing up at your home like this. I just… need someone to talk to.”
Without hesitation, she flung the door wide open–her navy silken kimono flowing in the breeze–and ushered me inside. “Of course. No need to apologize.” I stepped inside, and she closed the heavy door behind me. She glanced at my sock feet and lifted her trailing gaze to the red robe I wore, but she said nothing of it. “Come, sit down.”
Celadine led me further into her home with a gentle hand at my back. The front porch opened to a massive sitting room filled with Victorian furniture and gothic décor. A white tufted sofa sat mirrored to two black wingback chairs; a brass coffee table topped with white marble anchored the space. The deep charcoal walls were intricately designed with golden wainscotting on the lower half and peppered with antique sconces between abstract paintings. Celadine’s own art, no doubt. Everything sat in the dim lighting of several lamps and sconces. The thick black curtains were all drawn closed.
“Here,” she said, motioning to a chair. “Sit. I’ll make some tea.”
I folded my jittery hands in my lap, suddenly very aware of just how out of place I was here in my boss’s home fit for royalty. I waited while Celadine prepared tea in what I assumed was the kitchen just off of the large sitting room I was in. The sounds of clanking and water pouring echoed off the walls. It was only a few minutes, but it was enough for my mind and body to catch up with the adrenaline that’d brought me here. I melted into the black velvet chair, brushed my clammy hands over the stiff arms, and thought about Julie.
She lied to me. Everything else aside–the fact that she wasn’t human, that she might not even be my friend–the lie hurt. That she either deemed me unworthy of knowing her secret or didn’t think she could trust me with it. That hurt.
Celadine appeared with a brass tray balancing two delicate black China cups rimmed in gold. Steam billowed up from each. She set down the tray and took a seat in the second wingback chair, angling her body toward me and leaning forward to add sugar and milk to her tea.
“How do you take yours?” she asked me.
I blinked through the fog in my brain. “Uh, just milk, please.”
I watched as she added a healthy pour of milk to mine and accepted the warm cup and saucer when she handed it to me. Celadine then leaned back in her chair.
“Now, tell me,” she said. “What troubles you so much that you ran here without shoes or clothes?”
My cheeks heated. “I feel like an idiot now,” I admitted. �
��I just… freaked. And I didn’t know where to go.”
“What happened?”
I sucked in a deep breath through my nose. “Have… have you ever had someone in your life suddenly turn out to be… not what you thought they were?” I cleared my throat. “I mean, not who you thought they were?”
She studied my face. “As a matter of fact, yes. I have.”
I sipped the tea and rifled through my thoughts. “What did you do? How did you deal with it? How did… you forgive them?”
Her tattooed hand closed into a fist, and she dipped it to her side below the arm of the chair. “I think that entirely depends on circumstance. Some things… some changes, are unforgivable. I would judge the matter based on the person’s actions.” I let her words roll around in my mind. “This person you speak of… a friend?”
I just nodded.
“And this friend is suddenly not who you thought they were?”
Another nod before I sipped my tea again.
“Was it a change beyond their control?”
I thought for a moment. Julie was… Fae. But she must have been born that way. Certainly not her fault. But my train of thoughts circled back around to the same conclusion. I didn’t care that she was a fairy. I care that she lied.
I sucked in a deep breath. “She was… born like it. It’s the lie, the hiding of it that threw me for a loop.”
“Well,” Celadine replied and leaned back as she held her cup and saucer close to her chest. “It seems that communication is needed. Go talk to your friend. Give her a chance to explain before you write her off completely.”
A rush of guilt struck me. “Oh, I would never–” And there it was. The answer that had always been there. I would never cast Julie aside because I knew she’d never do to me. And yet… I ran away at the sight of her. The real her. I set my cup down. “I should go.”
A clanking sound came from the kitchen, like something falling to the floor. Celadine’s eyes went wide and shot to me.
“Is someone else here?” I asked and stood from my chair. “I’m sorry, Celadine. I just barged over here with no notice. I had no idea.”
“No, it’s fine. It’s–” She stood and placed a gentle hand at my back, ushering me toward the door while casting worried glances over her shoulder. “My… cat.”
“You have a cat?” I asked as we reached the front door.
Celadine swung it open, and her shoulders hunched at the sound of more noise coming from the kitchen. “Yes. The bane of my existence, really,” she replied through gritted teeth. But she flashed me a smile. “Are you okay to head home?” Her violet eyes raked over my attire.
I glanced down at my sweatpants and tank top under the red bathrobe. “I’ll be fine. The good thing about a college city is that there’s always someone running around in their pajamas.” I returned her smile, oddly at ease with myself. My nerves finally settled. “I’ll blend right in.” I stepped over the threshold onto the beautiful, covered porch and turned back to my boss. My friend. “Thanks, Celadine.”
She nervously glanced over her shoulder toward the interior of the house but whipped me a tentative smile. “Yes, of course.” More noise sounded from that kitchen area, and she narrowed the door opening. She raised her brows and said, “I’ll see you Monday evening?”
I nodded. “Yes, definitely. We can go over what I’ve done for the Mitchell showing so far.”
She closed the door further. Only a sliver of space allowed half of her panicked expression to show. “Excellent. Yes, see you then.”
Before I could reply, she closed the heavy wooden door.
After a few deep breaths, I turned and began the long walk back to the apartment. I needed it. The walk, the movement in my limbs, the time to wrap my head around all my settled thoughts. Julie was Fae, and she hid it from me for years. This much I knew. The rest–the how, the why, the… what it all meant… I had so many questions. I halted on the sidewalk, just a block from the apartment, as I realized one awful thing. I didn’t even give Julie the chance to explain. I didn’t ask a single question.
I just ran.
My heart squeezed in my chest as I looked ahead, down the busy street toward The Chocolate Kettle where we lived above. Julie was there, inside, probably beside herself. Probably crushed at the way I behaved, how I seemed to have rejected the actual sight of her. But I didn’t. I ran from the betrayal, not from who or what she was. I didn’t even care about that. But how could I prove that to her?
Suddenly, it dawned on me. I ran for the old brick building and climbed back up the fire escape, where I fumbled over the window ledge and fell to my bedroom floor. I rummaged through the stack of sketchbooks and papers next to the bed and grabbed one book in particular before I reached for the doorknob. I allowed myself one long breath in and out before turning the knob and opening the door.
Julie was there sitting in the oversized chair that seemed to swallow her up in her human form. Her crystal blue stare cut across the space and found mine. It glistened with everything I expected to find there–questions, worry, guilt. She said nothing as I slowly made my way over to the plushy sofa across from her and set the book down on the coffee table between us. She didn’t take her eyes off me. She didn’t even blink.
I cracked open the half-filled scrapbook, revealing notes and drawings of the Fae world. Every detail Lattie had told me. “For the record, I didn’t run because of… what you are.” Julie averted her gaze and fixed it on the book, her eyes widening as she realized what filled its pages. “I ran because it blindsided me. It hurt me. And…” I loosed a sigh and leaned back on the sofa. “And after the night I had–”
“What is this?” Julie said, stricken with awe as she leaned forward, her fingers slowly reaching for the book.
I pressed my lips together until she looked at me. “I think my questions come first.” I motioned to my scrapbook. “Then I’ll answer yours.”
She squared her shoulders and sat back in the chair. “Fair enough.”
“For starters, what are you?”
Her face remained still. “Fae.”
“I know that,” I replied. “But… what kind of Fae?”
“A Changeling.” The words were curt, but I caught the slightest hint of a tremble in her bottom lip.
“What’s a Changeling?”
Julie braided her fingers together in her lap. “It’s hard to explain–”
“Try me.”
Panic flashed across her lovely features, and she stilled herself with a deep breath. “When some Fae younglings are born, they’re sickly. And rather than nursing them to a healthy state, the parents often switch them for human babies.”
I focused on every breath that passed through my body. “But how do human parents not notice?”
“The Fae babies are given a glamor,” Julie replied. “A powerful one. To make them appear human. They often die of unknown causes before the glamor wears away.”
“But you didn’t.”
Julie’s eyes locked on mine as she nodded. “I have no idea where I was first abandoned. I don’t know who my actual parents are. All I know is that I lived. I survived whatever sickness I was born with.”
My mind struggled to piece the thread of events together. “Who were the parents they left you with? What did they do when the glamor wore off?”
But, as I spoke the words and witnessed the painful memory surface on Julie’s face, I regretted asking.
“I don’t know. I have no memory of being with a family. All I know is that the glamor never wore off,” she said just barely above a whisper. “Not at first, not for years. I was… found in a dumpster when I was barely a year old and given to a Catholic orphanage where I stayed until I was seven. I’d already learned that I was different by then. I could run faster, climb higher, was stronger than any of the other kids my age.” She chortled to herself. “Heck, more so than any adults, even.” I stared quietly, letting my best friend comb through her most personal memories, realizing with ever
y word she uttered just how painful it must have been for her. “I, uh, I was nine when I accidentally dropped the glamor. I was laying in the grass looking for four-leafed clovers when I heard one nun scream.”
She shuddered.
“It took me a moment to realize she was screaming at the sight of me. Pure white skin. Eyes too white, too large for my face. And… wings.” Julie wrapped her arms around herself and lifted her distant gaze from the floor between us. “I ran. I ran for days and days until my legs couldn’t move. But dropping the glamor gave me the Sight, and I saw creatures all around me in every crook and corner of the city. I watched them tear apart animals and eat their insides. I saw Fae touching humans everywhere, without them even knowing, pulling at their hair, cutting them, kissing their lips. The city was full of rampant creatures, and mortals just went about their days like everything was normal. Totally unaware. I was constantly running from them. I hid away in the back of an old pickup truck one night, under the safety of a tarp. I hadn’t slept for days and must have completely crashed because the next thing I knew, the truck was moving. It came to a stop at a quaint little house in the country. I heard footsteps coming around the truck and panicked. All I remember was closing my eyes so tightly and praying that the glamor would appear again.” Julie paused to smile at the memory. “And it did. Somehow, I made it work. Because when the tarp lifted and I stared up at the faces of Tom and Evelyn, they didn’t scream and run.”
Run. Like I had done at the sight of her.
Guilt coiled in my gut. “So, what happened then?”
Julie tilted her head. “Well, I think you know the rest. Tom and Evelyn took me in. They’d combed through every missing kid’s report they could find, called all the necessary sources and authorities. But no nine-year-old girl was reported missing with my description. And, since they never could have children of their own,” Julie shrugged happily, “they kept me. Raised me. Showed me what it was like to be loved.”
“So, they have no clue?” I asked.
She shook her head.
A Kingdom of Iron & Wine : New Adult Fantasy Romance (The Ironworld Series Book 1) Page 14
