Serina hung her head. How could she betray her own sister in such a way? She pulled some hair out of her mouth. The wind was probably an exercise for some air fairy’s training. It was quite annoying.
“Can’t you quiet all this down?” she yelled to Aeline.
Her sister slowed to a halt and lifted her arms. A song fell from her lips, and the air calmed around them. It continued to blow several yards out. The sound of it in the distance was strangely comforting as Aeline smiled and walked through the trees back to Serina.
“You agree with me, don’t you? You know I speak the truth.”
Serina stared at the ground. “Some of what you say strikes a chord within me, yes. I desire many things, but Felicity has taught me what the future holds, just as mother has taught me.”
“Of course they will teach you such things. Felicity is your water instructor. She is deeply concerned for the rules and elders, as is mother.”
The ground became more and more interesting to Serina. She couldn’t look her sister in the eyes. She couldn’t look into those smooth, dark mirrors and see herself staring back. She couldn’t give in to Aeline’s alluring disposition and sneakiness. But it was already too late. That hard spot in her chest ached more and more, as if it longed for the things of which her sister spoke. She had seen the elves on occasion, and a part of her was dying to see their world. They were as beautiful as any fairy, but their very essence seemed more earthy than ethereal. They seemed to possess an understanding of something deeper than Serina could begin to imagine. It had a finality to it that helped her understand for the first time in her life why fairies might choose to end their long lives in the human realm.
“It’s too early,” she whispered to the ground, unsure if it was her own voice speaking. “We can have these things later, when we’ve learned more and lived longer.”
Aeline let out a soft puff of air. “I have a feeling that’s what every fairy believes—until it is too late—until they have no youth left to truly enjoy what the human realm can offer. I’m not going to wait any longer. I’ve secretly followed and watched enough fairies to know how to enter the human realm, and I’m going to do it.” She grabbed Serina’s hand, making her finally look up into those smooth mirrors. “Sister, I want you to come with me.”
“What? Now?” Stumbling backward, Serina lifted her skirts from the ground and tried to regain her balance.
“Yes, I want you with me.” Aeline grabbed Serina’s arm and kept her from falling over. “Think about what we can experience, what freedom we’ll have.” Her beautiful glassy eyes blinked. They were mesmerizing, and Serina understood how she had fallen under her sister’s spell. Or was it a spell? Was there darkness within every fairy? Was there darkness within herself and she was simply too afraid to face it? She shook her head.
“I can’t leave Mother,” she said. “How can you even think of leaving her?”
“She’ll join us in a few years. She had us later in her life, and she is reaching that age many fairies decide to leave. She is nearly three thousand years old. You know that, and just as I have, you’ve heard her speak of her desire to serve in the human realm before she dies. When she does, we will meet her with open arms.”
“But what if the elders come to fetch us when they find us missing?”
Aeline’s fingers squeezed into Serina’s arm through the layers of flesh until her fingers pressed painfully against the bone. Then she let go. “They will never know we’ve left. They’ll suspect we ran off with lovers. It has happened before.”
Sitting on a boulder, Serina put a hand to her clammy forehead. She was dizzy and felt as if the world might have turned upside down. Maybe it had “They are not that naive,” she whispered, amazed at Aeline’s illogical reasoning. “The elves would most certainly tell on us. Your logic is completely flawed.”
Aeline’s shoulders fell and she turned away. “Then I will go myself, and you will keep silent about it. The human realm is much vaster than Lisadar. I’ll disappear.”
Serina glared at her. “Just like that, you’ll give up on me?”
Sniffing, Aeline kept her back turned. Serina looked at the tangled curls in her hair. “I have to follow my dreams. I’ve wanted this for a long time, but this is the first time I’ve felt I can tell you about it.”
“So you’re going to leave for good? I’ll never see you again?” A stone settled inside Serina’s stomach. She considered going with Aeline to avoid such a terrible sensation. She was sure that if her sister left, a part of her would die.
“I don’t know.” Aeline shrugged. “Perhaps I’ll wait a few years and see if you change your mind.”
Months passed before Serina woke one night to the sound of Aeline moving around the room. The curtains over the windows dimmed the pink light from outside, but Serina could clearly see that Aeline was packing a small bag. She wore a modest dress that made little sound when she moved. Serina cleared her throat.
“Leaving already?”
Spinning around, Aeline dropped the bag in her hands. A perfume vial rolled across the rug. A brush. Hair clips. “I didn’t mean to wake you,” she whispered, bending to shove her things back into the bag. “But you’ve known this was coming.”
“I figured as much, yes. You’ve been looking at mother with a sad, longing expression for days now. I know you’re going to miss her.”
Aeline straightened. “I’ll miss you too.”
“But not enough.”
Silence surrounded them. It was thick and stifling. Serina tried to drink in everything about Aeline; her beautiful skin, the golden dresses she wore so delicately on her willowy frame, those glassy eyes filled with her own darkening doom. Serina knew she could never tell a soul the truth about her, even Ellendia. She was bound to weep for a full year at the disappearance.
Telling the truth would destroy Serina—to betray her sister like that and possibly get punished herself—but telling the truth would also most likely lead to Aeline’s death. She was probably going straight to her death, anyway. Serina couldn’t see any possible favorable outcome from such headstrong, rebellious behavior. Every fairy who entered the human realm and stayed there eventually died, just like any mortal. Then again, as she watched Aeline bustle about the room, jealousy coiled around her and began to squeeze. Perhaps it was better to truly live for one moment— to finally breathe—instead of merely exist in this bright, stifling world.
“Can I at least accompany you to say goodbye?” she asked softly.
Aeline turned and smiled. “I would like nothing better.”
When they stepped outside, Serina looked at the sky. The clouds were their usual cherry-blossom pink, always thick enough to dim the sun for a comfortable sleep. Fairies didn’t require too many hours of sleep—only three or four—and food was not required often, either. Serina had heard that once a fairy stepped into the human realm, all of that changed. All beings there slept for long periods of time when the sun set. The humans seemed the frailest since they had to eat three or more times a day to sustain their bodies. It sounded awfully troublesome.
“Are you prepared for the changes?” she asked Aeline as they walked quietly down a path leading into a valley filled with tall birch trees. Their usually paper-white bark appeared pink in the evening light.
Aeline adjusted the bag over her shoulders and shrugged. “As prepared as I can possibly be. It will be worth it.”
“Are you counting on the elves to help you in the beginning?”
They stepped into a small stream. The water was icy cold against Serina’s bare feet, but she didn’t bother clearing it out of their way. She was tired and starting to feel emotional.
“The elves might help me,” Aeline said as she continued through the stream. She turned and looked Serina in the face. “Or they might....” Her lips pressed together as her eyes opened wide. Serina could see herself in them, her red hair and sad expression. She couldn’t believe she was going to lose her sister like this.
“Might what?” she asked. “Betray you?”
Aeline blinked and turned around. She waded through the rest of the stream and started walking down a faint path, her shoulders rigid.
Serina stood still. The smooth rocks beneath her feet were even colder than the water rushing over them. She wanted to stay cold forever. She wanted to be numb because Aeline was leaving her and she was sure part of it was her fault.
Aeline was already heading through the trees. Serina stepped out of the stream and followed her. Leaves rustled above them. The birds were quiet. In the pink light, everything was serene.
“This should do,” Aeline said when they reached a small clearing filled with yellow flowers.
“This is where the doorway’s located? I thought it would be in Rodowa. We’re less than an hour from home.”
Aeline laughed, and the sound filled the clearing like a chorus of wind chimes. “The doorway isn’t a specific location. I discovered that long ago.” She shook her head. “A fairy only has to know how to open the bridge from our realm to the human realm using their element.”
“How do you do that?”
“I’ll show you, but first I must... I must...” She lowered her eyes which were fast filling with tears. “I’m sorry I’m leaving you,” she said. “I’m sorry I’ve made you keep my fire secret, and that this will hurt Mother. I’m sorry for everything—for who I am.” Tears spilled down her face, but she didn’t wipe them away. Serina lifted a hand and swept them away into nothingness.
“Don’t be sorry for who you are,” she said, and gathered Aeline into her arms. She felt music and fire and warmth and love. She never wanted to let go. “I love you, Aeline. I’ve loved you since the moment you were born, and if this will make you happy, then I will not try to stop you.”
Aeline sniffed and wrapped her arms around Serina, squeezing before she let go and stepped away. “I love you too,” she whispered, and lifted her arms. A sweet but shockingly loud song left her throat. It swirled around them until the air began swirling with it, gathering itself around her.
Serina stepped back. The wind became so strong that it ripped the tears from her cheeks. Bits of grass and dirt and yellow flower petals were sucked into the funnel-like wind circling Aeline, until Serina couldn’t see anything except her dark hair and eyes. It was clear to Serina what needed to happen to create the doorway. It was a matter of focusing one’s element until it collided with time itself. She wasn’t positive she would be able to manage such a feat, but at least she knew the secret now.
“Goodbye, Serina,” she sang as the wind spun faster around her. Suddenly, it folded in on itself and Aeline was gone.
2
Secrets
Serina stared at the spot where Aeline had disappeared. She didn’t know how to go back to her mother and pretend nothing was wrong. She feared her mother’s reaction. She feared punishment, although nobody had to know about Aeline’s obsession with fire. Surely there would be some sort of punishment for allowing Aeline to leave—if the elders discovered that she had done so.
Prolonging the inevitable, she paced around the clearing and picked the remaining yellow flowers. When she had a sizable bouquet, she made her way back through the trees, to the stream, and down the road that led to her home. By this hour, the sun was beginning to rise higher. The clouds slowly broke apart, revealing a perfectly clear blue sky. Serina frowned. Everything about Lisadar should make her happy, so why did she wish that she had left with Aeline? She knew the answer, but shoved it away. She would be strong. She would not give in to jealousy and curiosity.
When she reached the house, Ellendia was kneeling by the front flower garden. She looked up and smiled. “There you are! Where is Aeline?”
Serina set her jaw tight against a flood of emotions. Her mother’s face was so angelic in the morning light, and before she knew it, the lie was slipping from her lips. “We were practicing our elements early, but I got hungry, so I left.”
Ellendia brushed the dirt off her hands and stood. She had always talked about how she liked the feel of dirt on her hands even though she was able to move it without touching it. She stretched her back as a few bees hummed around her face. “I’ll make you some food. What would you like?”
The truth was that her stomach felt like it had been forced inside out. “Cooked oats and honey,” she said, choosing something bland. “I can make it, Mother. Would you like some?”
Smiling, Ellendia turned back to her flowers and let out a sigh. “Yes, please.” She pointed to the pile of flowers she had pulled. “I hate thinning the extras. A part of me wants to create more space for them—I could, you know, and they would be fine—but then our entire front yard would be flowers and there would be no lovely grass where you and Aeline can relax in the afternoons. You two love that so much.”
Serina choked down a small cry and turned away. “I’ll... get started on the food.”
“Serina, what’s the matter?”
Ignoring her mother, she walked quickly to the house and slipped inside. She couldn’t do this. Why couldn’t Aeline have left when Ellendia was gone to Rodowa? It would have allowed a transition period, some time for Serina to come up with the courage to deal with lying. It was true that she had kept Aeline’s fire secret for over half her life, but this was different. The longer she kept silent about Aeline’s departure, the stronger her guilt would grow, and the worse the end result would be.
She rummaged in the kitchen and found a heavy cooking pot. Filling it with water from a pitcher, she sang a shaky song and watched the water boil almost immediately. Then she dumped in the oats and started digging through the pantry for the honey. It was in a clay pot with a honeybee handle. She had helped make that pot, she remembered—long ago, before Aeline was born.
Ellendia watched her from the doorway, her arms folded.
“Something is wrong, Serina. Speak up, please. We don’t keep secrets.”
Serina’s hands trembled and the honey pot fell to the floor and shattered. Golden honey oozed around the shards.
“She’s gone,” she whispered, unable to stop herself. “I knew she was going to leave, and I didn’t try to stop her. I’m sorry, Mother. I’m so, so sorry.”
“What are you talking about?” Ellendia unfolded her arms and stepped into the kitchen. She seemed to have brought the sunshine in with her. She was warm and smelled like soil when she took Serina into her arms. She always smelled like soil, her element. Serina thought about the times she had seen her guide the earth into smooth plots when new homes were built, every movement calm and controlled and perfect. She replanted forests in new areas, if needed. She cleared rocks from long-forgotten corners. She could even shift mountains to a degree if the earth quaked on its own and threatened to disturb villages. Serina could not imagine such power.
Serina wrapped her arms around her mother and wanted to tell her everything about the fire, but stopped herself. “Aeline was curious,” she said slowly, filtering the information. “She discovered how to open the doorway to the human realm, and this morning she left.”
Ellendia’s body stiffened. Serina imagined her stony expression. She might even cry, but perhaps that was going too far.
“Does she intend to come back?” she asked after a few moments.
“No, Mother. I could have warned you about this so long ago, but I didn’t.” She chewed on her bottom lip, realizing she had probably said too much.
“I see.” She released Serina and stepped away. “Then there is only one thing left to do.”
Serina grimaced. She already knew where this was going. She was certain that if Aeline knew she had spilled the secret in less than a few hours, she would be extremely angry and disappointed. Weakness. It filled her up like sticky honey. It was so thick she could hardly breathe.
This was not the way Serina wanted to visit Rodowa for the first time—following her mother like a scolded child through the valleys and forests until, two days later with no sleep or food, they reached t
he forest dividing the two lands. There was a path guarded by two male fairies. The path wound its way through the sparse trees at the edge of the forest, and then snaked into the shadows. It almost looked dark in there. Truly dark.
“Ellendia,” the first male fairy said. He held a long staff in his hand. It was made of wood worn smooth from handling. On the top was a sharp blade. Serina swallowed. She had heard about such weapons, but had never seen one before. She recalled her instructor teaching her that both in the fairy and human realms, fairies could be temporarily wounded by weapons, but never killed by them. Their bodies would always heal. The only things that could kill a fairy in the human realm, she thought with a shudder, was the slow passage of time, beheading, or fairy fire. She wasn’t sure what fairy fire meant, but she had no desire to learn at the moment.
“Tauril,” Ellendia said with a nod. She nodded to the other fairy, and they both moved their attention to Serina.
“She is not of age,” Tauril said with a confused look. “What is the nature of your visit?”
“Discipline,” Ellendia said with a slight catch in her voice.
The two males bowed in silence and moved away from the path. Ellendia moved forward, a slight wave of her hand motioning Serina to follow her.
Serina steadied her breaths. She had no idea what to expect from this point forward. Her own mother was betraying her, throwing her to Verath for punishment. For the first time, she truly understood the meaning of betrayal, and she scolded herself for breaking so easily and giving away Aeline’s secret. No doubt once the elder males knew, they would search for her.
The pine trees loomed ahead, some bending over the path. They were a deep green, their needles sharp and jagged. In the dimming light, they looked like giant male fairies with hundreds of spiky arms. Serina kept close behind her mother. She was not allowed to pass her or walk beside her now that she was on her way to a disciplinary council, or whatever it would end up being. She wasn’t sure. Ellendia hadn’t said three words to her since they had left the house two days ago. Serina could see she was hurt, but something else coursed beneath her pain, like the faint trace of veins beneath skin. Serina couldn’t put her finger on it.
Bonded: Three Fairy Tales, One Bond Page 27
