Watching the glow from their smiles made tiny sparks of enthusiasm dance in my heart. They were great friends, and I would miss our adventurous days. I smiled back. Then watching my feet, I stepped over the hole that had captured Nia, and helped them both across. We resumed our quest, but slower than before and enlightened of the danger.
Still quiet and dark, with the exception of our hollow whispers and the light from Abigail’s crystal, the cave now felt warmer, like a summer evening, as opposed to the biting season we had left on the outside.
As we ventured farther, the light stopped reflecting off the walls ahead and faded into blackness. Though I couldn’t see it, I knew we had arrived at a giant cavern. The air felt thin and refreshing. It was nice to breathe again.
“Hello,” I called out. My voice returned to me distorted and angled. I grinned and repeated my word, battling the hollers of my friends.
“This is fantastic,” said Nia, walking away from us and yelling again.
We laughed when her voice bounced back lower.
Nia wandered to the nearest wall and called for us to follow. Abigail waved her arm around, aiming the light in all directions while we approached our friend. We stopped. Our gasps echoed in the dark like laughing angels. Five long spears with iron barbs stood planted in the ground next to the cave wall.
Eagerly, I ran to the spears. “We found it!”
I grabbed one of the poles, but the rotted wood disintegrated in my palm; its metal tip fell harmlessly to the ground. Abigail and Nia each grabbed a spear, experiencing the same effect.
“What’s happening?” Abigail asked. “Are they real?”
I picked up a barb and held it close to her light. “Look, it’s real. The metal is still solid.”
“These must have been from the war,” said Nia, grabbing Abigail’s arm. “The wood is rotten. Come on. Shine the light this direction. There must be more.”
We walked around the cavern and discovered more spears, short swords, old barrels, a faded flag, and a pile of brass helmets. This was a unique find and a treasure. I couldn’t believe it had never been discovered, after so many seasons. I picked up one of the helmets and held it over Nia’s head. “I hope we don’t have a war,” I told her. “You would never fit in this.”
Nia swatted my arm. “That’s for men,” she said. “Have you picked one for Sean?”
I set the helmet down. “He wants armor. A helmet will work,” I paused. “but I also want to get him something special, something equal to my own request.”
Abigail touched my arm. “Nothing will compare to your request, Rhiannon.”
“Help me find something,” I pleaded, pulling on her sleeve. “Come on.”
We searched the cavern, aahing at each new discovery of weapons, and amusing ourselves with their design. We even discovered a barrel filled with rusty metal flasks.
“This must have been a hideout during the war.” Nia held a thin flask high and pretended to drink. “It would have been an ideal place to defend.”
Abigail tossed a short spear; it landed in the dirt ahead of her. “Or to plan an attack.”
Noticing a pile of shields, I moved over to them and examined each one, while ignoring the giggles and noises of my two friends. Near the bottom of the pile, I found a shield that looked promising. “Perfect,” I whispered. With a triumphant whoop that echoed across the cave, I held the shield above my head. “I found it! Come and see.”
The shield was dull from age, but wasn’t dented like the others in the pile. A torn leather handle and an arm strap were bound to the inside. On the outside, the twisting angel vine design of our village marked that it was once a weapon of Aisling. I traced my fingers along the engraving, smiling at its magnificence.
“Wow,” said Nia, reaching past my arm to touch the shield. “This is special. Look, at the design.”
“May I see it, please?” asked Abigail, stretching for a turn.
I handed her the aged masterpiece, then walked across the cavern. “Hold on to that,” I yelled back. “I’m going to keep it.”
Nia turned. “Then, where are you going?”
“I’ve decided I want a helmet to go with it,” I answered. “Something regal—a piece that Sean can wear with pride on any occasion.”
“Do you think we should leave now?” asked Abigail. “It could be darkening outside, see?” She held up her glowing crystal; its yellow light had faded to deep orange. “We can come back another day, now that we know where to find all of this.
Annoyed at how quickly the crystal was losing its brightness, I fought my struggling vision and searched the pale reflections past the boundary of the light. I stumbled across the uneven floor, using my hands to feel any bump or object that I encountered at the wall. Recognizing the cold metal and the shape of the helmets, I grabbed one and held it up. Unable to focus in the gloom, I stared and attempted to imagine a clear image into my mind. Nothing came.
“I need the light over here,” I called, refusing to turn away from the helmet.
Nia and Abigail hurried over, filling the air with immediate warmth and brighter light—although it was nothing like the blinding luminance from before.
“Thank you,” I said. “I’m having trouble choosing one.”
“My light is fading fast,” Abigail said. “We need to hurry, or we’ll be trapped here.”
Everything I saw was now a combination of shadows and a blur of hues. I could barely identify my friends. Pressed into an urgent decision, I handed Abigail the helmet. “Does this one look good?”
“Come on, Rhiannon,” said Nia. She pulled on my cloak sleeve. “We really need to leave. We’ll come back later.”
“What about my helmet?” I said, panicking. I felt compelled to choose now, and not challenge the fortune of our discovery by waiting for another day.
Over the deafening sound of my breath and my heartbeats, I heard the clanking of several objects. A hand pulled me to my feet and away from the wall. I gave a startled scream.
“It’s okay,” said Nia. She continued to tug me along. “We’re taking several helmets with us. You can choose the best one once we get outside.”
The next moments turned as blurry as my vision, as our hurried exit from the cavern transformed into a rushing dash through the winding cave. I could hear Nia and Abigail, but the echoes of their voices were deafening in the dark. Abigail’s light was barely visible, so I followed the blind lead of my friends; ducking when told, and leaping for safety across the treacherous trap that I couldn’t see. Finally, the open entrance of the cave announced itself with bright resolution.
I squinted. Although shaded under the canopy of thick trees, the welcome light and vision were a stark contrast to the darkness in the cave. We heaved open the gate and flopped into the wet ground of the forest. Abigail dropped the bundle and rubbed her arms. Nia ran back to close the rusted latch of the gate. I dug into the sack.
“Where is it?” I demanded. “Did you remember the shield?”
“I have it,” said Nia, strolling back to my side. She raised the second bag and revealed its contents.
Ignoring the sack on the ground, I grabbed the shield from Nia. Its dull metal lacked the reflective brilliance I had supposed it would; nevertheless, it was intact and repairable. I held it close to my chest and smiled. I had found my gift for Sean.
The House Guest
Dazzling light shined from the window, blanketing my room in white.
I blinked and squinted before opening my eyes. “What’s going on?” I asked, shielding my face with one hand.
Leila shook my shoulders. “I won’t tell you. Get up and see for yourself.” She lifted the bear blanket off my legs and shoved it toward my face. “You’ll want this.”
Icy chill blasted my exposed toes. I shrieked and hooked my feet and legs back inside the warm protection of my covers. Then I grabbed the thick fur and wrapped it tight to envelop me. While massaging my hands in the soft coat, I sat straight and strained my neck for
a better view out the window. In the distance, the tall trees of Taylor’s Ridge sparkled with white wonder. I leapt from my bed, wrapping the blanket around me, and ran to Leila’s side at the window.
“Snow.”
“Can you believe it?” said Leila, giggling as we fought for room next to the frosted glass. “It’s been too long.”
I gaped at the glistening landscape. Snow hadn’t touched our valley in several years. “This is wonderful.” I pointed toward the field behind the house. “Look at the horses. They love it.”
“Do you think they’re cold?”
“Most have been adding their winter coats,” I answered. I pulled my blanket tighter. “They’re warm enough, but I’ll bet they’re hungry. We’ll have a busy day.”
“Good morning, girls.” Mother stood at my doorway.
Leila rushed to her and squeezed her around the waist. “Oh Mother, did you see the snow?”
Mother stroked my sister’s hair. “Yes dear, it’s exciting.” She peeked back into the hall and closed my bedroom door. “We’ll have a busy day,” she said. “There’s a lot to prepare.”
I leaned against the glass to examine the white masterpiece. My thoughts to drift toward Sean. “I hope he made it over the mountains,” I said, tracing a line in the frost with my finger. “Do you think he’s all right?”
Mother must have sensed my worry; she reached her arms around me and pulled me close to her and Leila. I sighed. Mother’s warmth was better than her answer.
“We shouldn’t worry about him, Rhiannon,” she advised, looking up at me. “I’m certain that he’s okay. We should focus on the celebration tomorrow.”
“Are we still going?” asked Leila. “Even with the snow?”
“Of course we will,” I told her. “And I believe this Moon Season Celebration will be special, because of nature’s blessing.”
“That’s right, dear,” said Mother. “I’ve never seen snow before the celebration before. Its arrival on the eve is incredible.”
“Food!” Father’s bellowing broke the mood and made us all jump.
Mother and Leila scrambled out of the room. I summoned enough courage to shuck my quilt and dress for the day. Fit for a day of work and wet weather, I bounded down the steps, cupping my hands and blowing hot breath between them. Ethan was scuffling around the kitchen, obeying frantic commands from Father.
“Good morning, Father,” I said, beaming. I knew he would warm to my smile—he always did. “Did you see the snow?”
“Of course.” He answered with a grin, but his eyes revealed his anxiety. “It makes more work for all of us.”
I walked to him and squeezed him tight, allowing his warmth to fill me. “Are you excited for the celebration?” I was distracting him while Mother and Leila rushed into the kitchen. “It will be my last as a maiden faerie.”
“Oh,” he answered, growling from his chest. It added to the comfort of his embrace. “But it won’t be your last as my daughter. You and Sean will always be welcome at our fire.” He looked at me and smiled. “And the children you bring along.”
His last comment made my face warm. “Thank you, Father,” I said, acknowledging his invitation.
We ate quickly that morning. The unique weather made us all peculiar. Father didn’t smoke, I stared out the window, and Leila dropped her fork on the floor a dozen times during breakfast. Mother told us a story about snow that fell when she was young. Ethan—he wasn’t annoying, for a change.
After the meal, I collected an armful of dirty plates from the table. I was on my way to the kitchen, when Mother stopped me.
“The dishes aren’t a concern of yours, today,” she said, scolding me with a smile. “You have plenty of work to finish outside before practicing this evening. I’ll take care of these.”
“When is Cael coming, Mother?” asked Leila, interrupting.
I groaned.
I had forgotten about my promise to Sean. Leila didn’t know it, but she had just ruined the excitement of the day; I began to dread the evening and Cael’s arrival.
Mother shook her head as she arranged dirty dishes on the counter. “I don’t know. We haven’t heard from him since Sean left.”
“Do you think he forgot?” asked Leila, prodding her nose closely to mine. “Maybe we should send a messenger.”
“We won’t send a messenger,” yelled Father from the dining room.
“No, he hasn’t forgotten,” I said, bending down to adjust the strap on my tall leather boots. I made a sour face when no one looked. “I’m certain of that.”
Eager to experience the snow, but uninspired to walk out into the cold yet, I waited by the door for Leila to finish her wet weather preparation. She worked slowly, adjusting her bootlaces several times.
“I don’t want my feet to get wet,” she said with satisfaction. She pulled her cloak tight and fastened its bone buttons. “Once I get wet, I get cold.”
I wasn’t disagreeing with her. I was annoyed at her for reminding me about Cael. I made certain that it showed.
“Go on, girls,” said Mother, wiping the dishes with a flurry of motion. “The work won’t start without you, and I’m certain the horses are hungry.”
Mother was right. As I pushed open the door to the back yard and meadow, two dozen horses called to me while fighting for position near the stable. I stomped toward them, leaving deep imprints in the snow that reached my knees. I had forgotten; the snow was beautiful and mysterious, but a burden to walk in. I looked back at Leila. Shorter and smaller than me, she struggled with her steps.
“Are you okay?” I asked. “Will you make it?”
“It isn’t fair,” she said, swiping her hand into the white fluff. “You’re bigger. This is too deep.” Her attempt to capture the snow in her hand while stepping at the same moment made her lose balance. With a yelp, Leila tumbled into the snow and disappeared. After a frantic flurry of white powder and fur, she lifted her face above the snow, snorting it from her mouth and nose.
Chuckling, I walked carefully toward my sister. When I reached her, I offered my arm and lifted her to stand with a single tug. I brushed the remaining snow off her cloak and resumed my walk to the stable.
When I arrived, I moaned my disappointment at the meager pile of hay inside. “There won’t be enough for all of them.” I grabbed a pitchfork and dug into the pile. I tossed the clump over the fence, where the horses waited.
This was going to be a long day.
While I heaved another offering, Leila yelled and pointed toward the field. Pulled by Garrett, Father sat comfortably at the front of his wagon. Ethan stood in the back and balanced on a tall pile of hay while steadily tossing it over the sides. As the wagon rolled closer to us, horses from every direction scrambled for the offering.
“Father, come this way,” yelled Leila, grinning while jumping up and down. “He’s going to help us. Thank you, Father. Thank you.” She stomped toward the wagon and left me with her excited screams.
I leaned my pitchfork against the wall and walked over to Father. “I’m glad that you brought more,” I told him. “There isn’t enough hay in the stable.”
He smiled and brushed long straw from his beard. “Don’t thank me, yet. We’ll need to give them two day’s worth—all of them. It’s going to be a long, hard day.” He motioned to the reins in his hands. “Leila, climb up here and drive. Rhiannon, you and Ethan will help me empty the wagon.”
We did as Father ordered. Within moments, Leila was leading Garrett and the wagon while Ethan and I tossed hay over the sides. Father spread the hay around the crest of the snow, and kept the horses from biting each other in their excitement. When the wagon was empty, Leila drove us to the barn, where we refilled the wagon with hay. We had plenty for the season; Father always made certain of that. Once replenished with feed, we rode out again, this time farther from the house.
We emptied the wagon twice more. Every armful of hay gave me a reason to dislike the snow. Hard work kept me warm, but my arms w
ere aching and weak; I could barely lift them to stretch. It was only midday, and most of the work remained.
During our next trip back to the barn for another load of hay, someone ran across the field toward us. I steadied myself against the wooden wagon rails for a better view.
“Who is that?” I asked, leaning over Leila.
Father squinted, wrinkling the dark skin around his eyes, and Leila slowed the horses to a sudden stop. I realized who was coming.
Cael yelled a hello and waved one arm in the air. When he reached the wagon, he leaned against one of the large front wheels and held up a large metal canister. “Do you—?” He panted and took several large breaths before continuing. “I came to help you.”
I closed my eyes and offered a silent thanks to Sean for his kindness. Although often annoyed by his younger brother, I was happy to see the young man arrive; there was a lot of work to do. Still winded, Cael twisted off the top of the canister, and drank heartily.
“Is that water from your family well?” asked Ethan.
“Yes,” Cael answered, lowering the jug and wiping his mouth. He held it up to me. “Do you want something to drink?”
As I reached for the container, Leila answered for me. “We all want some,” she said, smiling. “Thank you.”
“Good work, boy,” said Father. “Who told you we would need help today?”
“There’s no trading because of snow on Taylor’s Ridge,” answered Cael. He climbed over the side of the wagon next to me. “I thought you might be busy, and since I was coming later, I decided to arrive early and help.”
As I dipped the container to my mouth, a flood of refreshment filled my body and replenished my strength. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the moment, before releasing the pain from my morning travails in a long sigh. I handed the jug to Ethan, whose persistent hands reached closer than Leila’s did. “That water is wonderful,” I said, nodding at Cael.
Father patted Cael on the shoulder. “Best water in the village,” he said, “from the best family.”
On Fallen Wings Page 9
