ELEMENTS: Acquiesce

by Kathryn Andrews

  All afternoon Flynn had been proudly telling everyone about his daughter’s birthday and by the time Cordelia arrived at the tavern, the party was already in full swing. A vision of beauty, Cordelia stood out amongst the crowd. Breck couldn’t take his eyes off her; she looked resplendent.

  “Here she is! Look at you dressed to the nines,” said Flynn, embracing her. “Happy birthday Cordelia.” He handed her a small box with a ribbon tied around it.

  Cordelia smiled with excited anticipation as she untied the bow and slowly opened the box to reveal a necklace with a single pearl.

  Cordelia couldn’t believe her eyes. “Where did you find it?” she asked.

  “Ah, it may not be the exact same one,” said Flynn.

  “Well then how could you - it must have cost a fortune.”

  “I have connections,” said Flynn, winking.

  Cordelia hugged Flynn. “I love it. Thank you.”

  “You’re very welcome,” said Flynn and he fastened the necklace around Cordelia’s neck.

  Breck poured Cordelia a drink and as he passed it to her, he leaned in close and whispered in her ear, “You look beautiful.”

  Cordelia smiled and took the drink from him. “You remember the girls don’t you?” she asked, gesturing for them to come closer.

  “Of course,” said Breck, “how are you?”

  “Very well, thank you,” said Lana.

  “Can I get you some drinks?” asked Flynn.

  The girls nodded, smiling and followed Flynn to the bar.

  The evening was filled with laughter, dancing and singing and Cordelia had almost completely forgotten her troubles until eleven o’clock when she and Breck had become completely lost in themselves, dancing like no one was watching. Breck held on to Cordelia’s waist and she wrapped her arms around his neck. His strong arms and the warmth of his body made Cordelia feel safe; she could have stayed locked in that moment forever. They fell into each other’s eyes, drowning in each other’s souls. For a fleeting moment there was nobody else in the room and so they kissed, a long passionate kiss that could have set the world alight. Suddenly they were torn apart.

  “What are you doing?!” asked Flynn, his face crimson. “Get your hands off her!” Flynn pushed Breck away like a criminal. “What are you thinking? The pair of you!”

  Cordelia had never seen Flynn so angry before.

  “I love her,” said Breck.

  “Whatever this is,” said Flynn, “I forbid it!”

  Everyone in the tavern had stopped dancing and singing to witness the frayed tempers.

  Flynn stood still for a moment, his head lowered, his hands shaking. Blue sparks started to flow back and forth between his finger tips. “How could you do this to me?” he asked.

  Breck tried to guide Flynn in to the back room, away from prying eyes but Flynn was not so willing.

  “Get off me!” shouted Flynn, enraged.

  “Stop it! Both of you,” said Cordelia, clearly distressed.

  “Cordelia!” called Nerissa. “Your hair!”

  Cordelia, already on the verge of tears turned to see her friends staring at her in shock. She followed their gaze to the floor and there she saw her shoes surrounded in a sea of grey hair. Her heart rate quickened and her forehead and palms became clammy. She ran her fingers through her hair and great clumps fell out in her hands. Tears welled in Cordelia’s eyes, her porcelain cheeks flushed scarlet and she ran from the tavern like a deer running from a wolf.

  Running through the night, beneath the full moon, Cordelia’s hair continued to shed and all the while she brushed it off her clothes until it stopped falling; until there was no hair left to shed. Standing on the cliff top looking out to sea, sheeting rain began to fall followed by angry thunder. Between thunder claps came the sound of Breck’s voice calling her name. As much as it pained her, she dived off the cliff top and into the sea.

  EIGHTEEN

  POOka

  Cordelia sat on the rocks by the ampitheatre, reeling in anguish. She could never let Breck see her like this. Perhaps she would never see Breck again. She cried so much she thought her tears would run dry. Pressing her forehead onto her knees, Cordelia wrapped her arms around her head and wondered what she had done to deserve such punishment. She thought things couldn’t get much worse when a searing pain erupted in her left shoulder blade. She reached an arm behind her back and scratched it as best she could but this was different than before, the pain wouldn’t ease, if anything it was getting worse. She poked and prodded the area with her finger tips, tearing the lace of her dress and breaking her skin. Her nostrils flared at the scent of fresh blood seeping from her open wound and the pain turned her stomach but she couldn’t leave it. Cordelia probed further and then she felt it, the very thing she’d been dreading. She grasped the tip between her fingers and pulled. The pain was excruciating but she wanted it out. She tugged and tugged until at last the feather came free. She placed it on a rock beside her and there in the moonlight lay a soft white feather stained red.

  Cordelia waited until she was sure everyone in town was sleeping and then she walked, barefoot to church. She didn’t know where else to turn. The church yard had always seemed eerie to Cordelia, even in daylight. Night time was worse, far worse. Tree branches swayed wildly in the wind, creaking like wooden pirate ships. That haunting sound sent goose bumps racing across her body. The church stood in darkness, surrounded by the dead. The only sign of sentient life was the crow perched on the porch roof above the door, and the flickering flame from a hurricane lamp hanging below danced in its beady eyes. With frayed nerves, Cordelia turned the handle of the large wooden door and its hinges creaked as she pushed it open. Though sparse, the candles inside the church were lit. Cordelia breathed a sigh of relief and the door clunked shut behind her. Water dripped from her dress onto the floor. Her eyes scanned the church; there was no one there. Alone, she walked the aisle and knelt at the altar. She bowed her head, placed her hands together and closed her eyes as she recited the Hail Mary. Cordelia wept and prayed at the altar for hours until she eventually fell asleep.

  The early morning sunlight streaming through the narrow windows woke Cordelia from her sleep. Something hard was pressing into her cheek. She slowly sat up in a disoriented daze, wondering where she was and wiped her face with the palm of her hand, brushing aquamarine gemstones to the floor. Then she remembered. She tentatively raised her hands to her head and gasped with relief. Her hair had grown back. One of her prayers had been answered. Running her fingers through her hair, she could tell it was shorter than before, only reaching her shoulders now. She pulled strands of hair in front of her face to get a good look at it but instead of the silver grey that she was used to, her hair was golden like the sun. Just as a young bird loses its first feathers, Cordelia was transforming into her adult self.

  “How can this be?” she whispered.

  She looked at her watch, it wasn’t even five thirty. The town would be sleeping for a good while yet. Cordelia gathered the gemstones from the altar, shoved them into her pocket and hurried to the mirror pool.

  Cordelia glanced at her surroundings, checking that she was alone, then she edged forward and peered into the water. There was no reflection. Cordelia stepped down onto a lower ledge but still there was no reflection. Cordelia felt her chest tighten. Something wasn’t right. Mist crept over the rocks as it always did, encasing her in a cocoon, but something was different this time. Cordelia’s heart almost stopped when across the pool she saw a pair of large, golden eyes watching her.

  “Who’s there?” she called.

  “What is it you want to see, Cordelia?”

  “Who are you?” asked Cordelia sternly. “Show yourself.”

  A dark shape moved forward. Cordelia could feel her heart beating ten to the dozen but refused to show her fear. Out of the mist stepped a black, sleek horse with a long, wild flowing mane. It’s golden eyes stared menacingly at Cordelia.

  “I asked you a question,” said th
e horse. “What do you want to see?”

  “I want to see myself,” said Cordelia.

  “That’s your trouble,” said the horse. “Always thinking of yourself.”

  “Who are you?” asked Cordelia.

  “It doesn’t matter who I am. Who are you? You don’t know, do you? How can you ask others of themselves when you do not know yourself?” The horse looked into the mirror pool. “What do you see?”

  Cordelia looked into the water to see Flynn and Breck at the tavern. “They look miserable.”

  “You caused their sadness,” said the horse. “You inflicted pain on those you love the most.”

  “Why are you doing this?” asked Cordelia.

  “I didn’t do this, you did.”

  Just as quietly as it arrived, the horse turned and walked away. Cordelia used her powers to disperse the mist but it took longer than it should thanks to the wound on her shoulder. She didn’t see where the horse went. By the time the mist had cleared, all that was there were the rocks leading out to sea. Cordelia peered into the pool again and there in the water was her reflection staring back at her. She looked just the same but her hair was shorter, sleeker and blonde. Cordelia kneeled on the rocks and leaned forward to get a closer look. She stared at herself wide-eyed, tugging and stroking her hair. She didn’t know if she liked it or not. She was more concerned with why it had changed. She didn’t want anyone to see it, not yet but she would need to be quick if she was going to get back to her chamber without being seen.

  It was almost six thirty when Cordelia returned to the lighthouse. She had so many questions that needed answering but first she needed to change her clothes. She had at least an hour before anyone in the lighthouse would be up and about. She pulled off her damp clothes, leaving them in a heap on the floor and climbed into the barrel to wash. Water slopped onto the floor as she submerged herself. When she felt cleansed from the night before, Cordelia dried herself as fast as she could and put on dry clothes. She studied herself in the mirror. Her blonde hair would take some getting used to, there was no question about that, but she needed to know what was happening to her. She had questions that needed answering and she certainly wasn’t ready to answer anyone else’s. Cordelia wrapped her hair in a towel and headed to the library. She had forty minutes to find what she needed and get back to her chamber if no one else was to see her.

  “Please be open, please be open,” she whispered to herself as she approached the library door.

  Cordelia twisted the door knob with one hand and pushed with the other. To her relief the door opened. She scanned the shelves looking for something a little more informative than a beginner’s guide. She needed to know everything.

  “You won’t find it,” said Wade, emerging from the back room in a rather flamboyant dressing gown.

  “How do you know what I’m looking for?”

  Wade winked and tapped the side of his nose with his finger. “I’m the keeper of books,” said Wade. “It’s my job to know which books our students require.”

  “You said the books weren’t off limits anymore.”

  “They’re not.”

  “So why can’t I have it?”

  “The book you seek does not exist.”

  “It has to,” said Cordelia.

  “We cannot live our lives based on what it says in books, Cordelia. You are the first of your kind. You are leading the way. You are here to write history, not read it.”

  “But I don’t know where I belong.”

  “You’re worried about fitting in. Don’t be. You were born to stand out.” Wade slowly pulled the towel from Cordelia’s head. “Alright, it needs a good brush but the colour is grand!”

  “I can’t let people see it,” said Cordelia, panicked. “They’ll want to know why it’s changed colour and I don’t know what to tell them.”

  “Hold your head high and smile. You don’t need to tell them anything.” Wade pulled a comb from the pocket of his dressing gown and ran it through Cordelia’s hair. “You look like an angel,” he said, stepping back to admire his handiwork.

  Cordelia forced a half smile.

  “Wait there,” said Wade and he disappeared into the back room. Moments later he returned with a brass hand mirror decorated with blue detailing. “See for yourself.”

  “It’s beautiful,” said Cordelia, holding the fish tail handle.

  “French antique enamel,” said Wade. “It belonged to my great grandmother.”

  Cordelia smiled and held the mirror to her face. In an instant her smile faded and a look of anguish took its place.

  “Heavens, it’s not that bad,” said Wade.

  “Is this a trick?” asked Cordelia.

  “I don’t follow,” said Wade, confused.

  “My reflection isn’t there.”

  Wade took the mirror from Cordelia and held it to his own face. “I think it’s you who’s playing tricks on me,” he said, now titivating his own hair.

  Cordelia took the mirror back and grey smoke swirled inside the glass. “It’s back,” she said.

  Standing beside Cordelia, Wade peered into the mirror. Two golden eyes emerged from the smoke and as the creature drew nearer, its equine features became clearer. Wade snatched the mirror from Cordelia and placed it face down in the drawer of his desk.

  “Have you seen it before?” asked Wade, locking the drawer with a key.

  “Earlier this morning, at the rock pools.”

  “You should know better than to be out gallivanting on your own at such an early hour,” said Wade, running his finger along the bookshelf.

  “What is it?” asked Cordelia.

  “A vindictive fairy,” said Wade, his expression serious. “They call it Pooka.”

  “Is it bad?”

  “It can be,” said Wade, pulling a book off the shelf and handing it to Cordelia. “I suppose the more accurate term is goblin.”

  Cordelia took the book with both hands and mouthed the title, “Fairies, Goblins and Other Creatures.”

  “Read it,” said Wade. Then he removed a brass pocket watch from his robe. “Gracious, is that the time?” He swept up his robe and sashayed into the back room, closing the door behind him.

  Cordelia looked at her own watch. It was quarter past seven. She wrapped the towel around her hair and left the library.

  Cordelia took the book into her chamber and bolted the door. She hadn’t seen hide nor hair from anyone walking along the tunnels but that wasn’t unusual for this hour on a Sunday and it’s the way she wanted it.

  “Let’s have a look then,” said Nixie.

  Cordelia jumped. “I wish you would stop doing that,” she said, still facing the door.

  “I thought you’d be used to it by now.”

  “I shouldn’t have to get used to ghosts creeping up on me,” replied Cordelia, turning to face Nixie.

  “I’m not creeping up on you, if I was I’d be over there with you.”

  Cordelia rolled her eyes and walked over to her bed where she perched with the book on her lap.

  “What do you have there?” asked Nixie.

  Cordelia felt like telling Nixie to mind her own business but thought better of it. She turned the cover of the book towards Nixie.

  “Ooooh. Do you believe in all that?” asked Nixie. “Fairies and goblins?”

  “Why wouldn’t I?” asked Cordelia. “We’re real, though there’s plenty who think we’re just part of a silly folklore story. I thought you of all people would know of their existence since you claim to know everything.”

  “You’ve had enough to take on board. You didn’t need this on your shoulders as well.”

  “Don’t you think I should have been forewarned?”

  “You’ve survived sixteen years without knowing about fairies and goblins. I hardly think another two months would have made much difference to you.”

  “I saw Pooka this morning. Twice.”

  Nixie’s translucent complexion turned grey. “Are you joking?”
>
  Cordelia raised her eyebrows. “Would I be searching for books in the library at this hour on a Sunday if I was joking?”

  “This isn’t good,” said Nixie. “It’s a bad omen.”

  “What does it want?” asked Cordelia, scanning the contents and turning straight to the page about Pooka.

  “I don’t know,” said Nixie.

  Cordelia traced the text with her finger, then read aloud, “This shapeshifting fairy creature is a portent of oncoming doom.”

  Startled by a sudden hammering on her chamber door, Cordelia looked to Nixie for reassurance. Nixie poked her head through the chamber wall to see who was there.

  “It’s your friends,” whispered Nixie.

  Cordelia breathed a sigh of relief, adjusted the towel on her head to make sure it was secure and slowly opened the door.

  “Can we come in?” asked Lana.

  Cordelia looked to Nixie for reassurance but she’d gone. Cordelia stepped back, opening the door a little wider.

  “We’ve been so worried about you,” said Nerissa. “We waited up half the night for you but you didn’t come back,” said Masika. “We didn’t know whether to report you missing or not.”

  “That won’t be necessary,” said Cordelia, “but I appreciate the concern.”

  “As long as you’re alright, that’s the main thing,” said Lana.

  Nerissa glanced at the towel on Cordelia’s head. “Is everything okay?”

  Cordelia knew what she was referring to. “I suppose now is as good a time as any,” she said and unraveled the towel from her head.

  Lana and the twins gasped.

  “Thank heavens for that,” said Nerissa, reaching out to touch Cordelia’s arm. “I thought you were bald under there.”

  “Would it have mattered if she was?” asked Masika.

  “No, not at all,” replied Nerissa, a little put out by her sister’s moody tone. “I’m just relieved for her. A woman’s hair is her crown, is it not?”

  “It’s so different,” said Lana.

  “I’ve never known a mermaid’s hair to fall out and grow back a different colour,” said Masika.