On Fallen Wings

by Jamie McHenry

  The night can play many tricks on a person, and that night, I had become its victim. I wandered through the grove, turning and returning, then doubling back to where I thought I had come from, but failed to find the temple. I wanted to scream, but the air clung tight. I felt like any effort to speak would give the forest a reason to suck the soul from my lungs. I was beginning to despise the Aspen Grove.

  I wept; large noisy tears that splashed onto the leafy forest floor with thundering applause. Even my own emotions betrayed me during the most important journey of my life. I needed to speak. “Sean!” I yelled for him to help me.

  The darkness snatched my words as soon as they left me, and replaced them with the pounding of my heart. I still couldn’t breathe.

  “Sean!”

  My voice echoed to my left. I couldn’t see it, but there was something close, something unlike this wooden abyss. I turned and followed the faint repeat, calling Sean’s name in short intervals. It wasn’t clear, but ahead of me—as the echo was louder there—I saw a circle of soft blue.

  The faerie temple. When I reached the protection of the sacred trees, I gulped in large mouthfuls of air, as if I had finally risen to the top of a deep pool of water.

  It wasn’t bright, and I still couldn’t see clearly, but it was something, and that’s all that mattered now. I felt hot, and I was sweating from my face. I removed my cloak, carefully placing it on the ground near the altar, and tugged at my dress, allowing the air to creep inside and cool my skin.

  While enjoying the moment of relief, I stared at the sky. The moon wasn’t overhead, but its blue influence highlighted the trunks of these giants—from halfway up until their leafing roofs high above. Even the twisting, flowering angel vines appeared to stretch toward the blessing of moonlight. Straight above the temple, blue, orange, and bright white stars flickered in the night. I had never been to this place after dark, and felt comforted in its serene perfection. Here, I was alone with nature and full of peaceful energy. In this place, I was meant to do no wrong.

  There was a purpose for coming, and I couldn’t enjoy the peace for too long. I knelt down and pulled the velvet bag from my cloak, emptying it. The crystal was dark and cold. Without wasting a moment, I pressed the key into the alter lock.

  Brilliant red flashed so bright that I had to close my eyes. Despite my fear of the dark, I had become accustomed to it, and the light blinded me. As I looked again at the key, its light now pulsating like a beating heart, I noticed the gold. Thin lines of gold crossed the surface of the ruby, just like the ones on Nia’s emerald. I had never noticed them before. I had never seen the altar key up close. I allowed myself a moment of awe, then twisted the ruby and opened the vault. I reached inside the chilly box and pulled out the Fae Scrolls, then laid them on the altar.

  I unlatched the bone buckle of the binding case, feeling as if I had done it many times, and shrugged away any intruding thought while opening the leather. Then I closed my eyes, removed the scrolls, and tucked them under my shoulder. I replaced the leather case under the altar and sealed it, making careful effort to retrieve its key and tuck it back into the velvet purse. Night covered the temple once more. I grabbed my cloak and fled back into the abyss.

  I walked blindly back through the dark forest, though faster than my arrival, and discovered that leaving the grove was easy. I walked straight, in one direction, until I eventually saw moonlight glancing through branches and dead leaves. When I reached the outlying trees, I rushed to the freedom and the fresh open air. There, I took deep gasping breaths of cool refreshment.

  After the encompassing solitude, the forest chatter around me was jarring. The chirps and whistles mixed with distant croaks, creating an alarming signal to my arrival; nature knew of my misdeed. Behind me, something jumped in the bushes. I clutched the scrolls to my chest and ran through the grass, toward the road.

  As I dashed toward the safety of my home, the cold air hit my face and reminded me what I had done. I stopped running and removed the scrolls from beneath my cloak. I gazed at what I held with my trembling fingers; the sacred history of the village, wound tight and sealed with a leather chord. It was a helpless offering. For what price? My breath shook as reality caught me in a moment of panic.

  “Sean?” I whispered. “What have I done?”

  I didn’t move; I couldn’t. I stared at the scrolls without the awe they required, but with pity and spite. It wasn’t for Sean, or his captors, but for the traitor that I had become. How did this happen?

  I turned around and gazed at the grove. Before, it had seemed peaceful and loving; that’s all it had ever been to me. Tonight, I made it my enemy. I wanted to return the scrolls, and may have, but couldn’t find it within myself to doom Sean. Instead, I tucked them under my cloak, near my heart, and began a lethargic journey home. I no longer cared if the sun came up.

  As suddenly as they had arrived to greet, the sounds around me abruptly ended. There was no chirping or croaks, only the whispers of a quiet wind and footsteps in the gravel.

  “Who’s there?” I asked, barely audible. I was afraid to turn around.

  The stepping continued. Now, there was more than one—I was certain. My breath shook in my ears. I clutched my chest. Someone touched my shoulder.

  I screamed.

  My legs found courage and took me away from that mysterious hand. I didn’t dare look back, but ran recklessly through the woods. Branches clawed at me, tangling my hair and cloak, but I was barely aware of them. My breath came in ragged sobs and my chest ached, but I could hear my pursuers. Men—at least two of them. They spoke to one another while following close behind. One of them was laughing.

  “Help me, Sean,” I whispered between frantic breaths. “Help me.”

  I was escaping, I thought, because I ran forever. When I arrived at the large trail to my home, I turned sharply and pushed my legs harder in the homestretch to safety. That’s when someone shoved me to the ground.

  “Let go!” I screamed, fighting off the hands in the darkness.

  “Rhiannon, stop.”

  I stopped struggling and opened my eyes. “Cael?”

  “Be quiet. I won’t hurt you.” He grabbed my arm and pulled me to my feet. “Are you okay?”

  “No.” I stared at the darkness. “Who’s with you?” My voice was shaking.

  “It’s okay,” said Cael. “He’s a friend of mine.”

  “Friend?” I asked. “What friends lurk in the shadows?”

  A short, hooded man stepped forward. His back was blocking the moonlight, and I couldn’t see his face.

  I stepped back in fear. “What’s going on?” I asked. “Why are you here?’

  Cael chuckled in a way that made my neck shiver. Then he stepped back. “The same reason you’re here,” he said. He said something over his shoulder to the man that I couldn’t quite hear. His words made them both laugh. “We’re trying to save Sean.”

  I stopped panting. “Are you going to Morgan?”

  “No,” said Cael. “We were waiting for you.”

  I clutched my chest.

  “We’ve been waiting all night.”

  “All night?” I said. “How did you know that I would come?” The cold caught me and I shivered.

  Cael turned to the man and whispered something else to him. Then he tugged me toward the trees. “I know you, Rhiannon. Better than you know yourself sometimes.”

  “What does that mean?” I asked. I glanced over his shoulder at the man, who stood far away, out of earshot. I couldn’t see him clearly. I dug into my pocket and pulled out the velvet sack. “How did you get this?”

  “Gaelle gave it to me,” he said.

  “No, she didn’t,” I said sternly. “She isn’t allowed.” I shoved the sack into his open hand.

  Cael gripped the velvet tight and grabbed my arm. “I took it,” he admitted. “Okay, I’m not perfect.” He thrust the sack into a pouch around his waist. “Don’t stand here in the dark condemning me for trying to save Sean.
You said you needed the crystal. I told you before: I’ll do whatever it takes to set him free.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said, “I never asked you to take the key. I just wanted you to know that I needed it to get the scrolls.” I opened my cloak and handed them forward. “Here they are.”

  Cael gasped. “You—you really got them?”

  “Be quiet,” I scolded, staring over his shoulder at the man. “Yes, I did. Can you save Sean?”

  “Not tonight,” said Cael, staring down at the rolls of parchment. “It’s too close to dawn.” He looked up at me and shook his head. “How did you do this?”

  “I won’t tell you,” I said. “Is that all they want—to release Sean?”

  “Yeah, that’s what I’m told.” Cael kept staring at his hands. “I can’t believe you did it.”

  I grabbed Cael’s chin and aimed his face to look at me. “Will you get them back once Sean is free?”

  “What?” Cael stepped backward.

  “Once Sean is free,” I said, “I want you to bring me back the scrolls. I’m going to put them back.”

  “I—I don’t know if that will be possible.”

  I reached out and grabbed his arm. “That’s the price I demand,” I said, glaring at him.

  “For what?” he asked. “For helping me save Sean? That doesn’t make sense.”

  “No,” I said, glaring. “For the kiss.”

  Cael stood, open mouthed, and stared.

  “I will tell everyone, including our fathers, about your dishonor, if you don’t bring me back the scrolls once Sean is free.” I paused, waiting for him to respond. When he didn’t, I kept talking. “And I want you to return the key to Gaelle—tonight.” I released his arm and flipped the satchel so that it struck him in the stomach.

  “Rhiannon,” said Cael, gulping loudly. “About the kiss. I already—”

  “I didn’t want it, Cael,” I said, no longer caring if the other man heard me. “And you knew better.”

  Cael continued staring. “Is there anything else,” he asked, “before I go?”

  “When will I see Sean again? I’ve done my part. When can you get him free?”

  “Soon.” He tucked the scrolls under his coat and turned to me. “I’m sorry,” he said, “I—”

  As I stood with my arms folded, waiting for more, Cael leapt into a shadow and disappeared.

  In My Arms

  “Rhiannon, wake up.”

  Despite the worry in Mother’s voice, I refused to open my eyes. Instead, I rolled to face the wall. “Let me sleep,” I moaned through my pillow. I’m tired.”

  “You can’t keep doing this,” said Mother, pulling my arm. “This is two days in a row.”

  “I know,” I said, “but I’m tired.”

  “You should sleep during the night,” she scolded, jabbing me in the ribs with her fingers. “There’s work to do during daylight.”

  Her reprimand and violent prod inspired me to sit and avoid another painful poke. “Fine, Mother, leave me alone. I’m awake.” I yawned and stretched my arms. I flopped back down to my feather pillow.

  “Rhiannon!”

  “Okay.” I shoved the pillow behind me and slid to the end of the bed. “Why do you have to be mean? I’ll do my chores.”

  Mother pulled a work dress from my closet and tossed it at me while I rubbed my eyes. “Because,” she said, “laziness breeds sorrow. And today, your father won’t be kind if you continue.”

  Mother was right, Father wouldn’t be as forgiving as yesterday, when I had wandered downstairs after the morning chores had been completed. I had lied then, and told my family that I had been up late with tears. They had believed me then, but Father warned me not to make a habit of bellyaching. I already regretted having used the excuse, since I had been awake all night crying. No messages came from Cael the day before, and despite my frequent visits to the front door, Sean hadn’t burst into our home to announce his safety. The wait was torture.

  “Where’s Father, now?” I asked, slipping out of my nightgown and quickly into the work dress.

  Mother picked up my crumpled nightgown and shook it straight before placing it neatly into my closet. “He’s at the barn, with Ethan. They’re shoeing today.”

  “Oh.”

  Father hated shoeing the horses, and after a full day of fighting their tempers, he was certain to be ornery. I brushed my hair back and followed Mother downstairs. As was my habit when I reached the bottom, I opened the front door and peered outside. The day was warm and sunny.

  “It’s a perfect day for Sean to come home,” I told myself, banging the door shut.

  After a rushed morning meal, I scrambled into my boots and hurried outside to the stable. Leila was already working.

  “Good morning,” she said, smiling when she saw me.

  It felt good to hear a kind voice. “Hello,” I answered, smiling back at her. “I’m sorry I slept in.”

  Leila shrugged. “I didn’t think you would be helping. I was ready for another long day.”

  I slipped between the rails of the fence and stuffed loose hay back into the trough. “I had a rough night,” I said, without looking up.

  “I know. I heard you.”

  I dropped my armful of hay.

  Leila’s answer triggered a cluster of regret. Since retrieving the scrolls for Sean’s ransom, I had occupied myself with worry and had ignored my family. Upon his return, we would finish planning the wedding, and soon after, I would move away. These were my last moments at home with my sister, and I was neglecting them.

  “I’m sorry I’ve been moody,” I said, shoving the hay back over and into the trough. “It’s been difficult for me.”

  “I know you miss him,” said Leila. “You can let us carry some of your concerns. We’re a family, and we miss him too.”

  I stopped working and stared at Leila. I had never heard her talk like that. My young sister was growing up, and she was making me cry. I ran to Leila and lifted her in a hug.

  “Thank you,” I said, holding her in the air. “But I think that everything is going to be all right. Sean will be home soon.”

  “It’s good to hear you smile,” said Leila, her voice muffled.

  I lowered her. “It hasn’t been easy for you,” I said. “Thank you for understanding.”

  Leila grinned and returned to the pile of hay she had collected.

  The work made me feel better, and the anticipation of Sean coming home made the morning pass faster that I had expected. Leila hummed and sang, which also lightened the air around me. After feeding the horses, we washed our hands and faces at the well. It was a bright day.

  “Are you going for a ride today?” Leila asked, drying her hands on her work dress.

  I dried my face with the bottom of my dress before answering. “I don’t know,” I said. “The rides help to calm me, although today, I’m not feeling terrible.” I smiled at her. “Thanks to you. You have made the day exceptionally pleasant.”

  “You decide your own feelings,” she said, balancing the well bucket on the stone edge. “I’ve been here all along.” She reached up and patted my shoulder. Then she skipped across the lawn back toward the house. “Come on,” she said, twirling in a circle. “Let’s get some lunch.”

  Still full from my late morning meal, I sat at the table while my family devoured the meat and gravy that Mother had prepared for midday. Every time the conversation shifted to me, which was often, I offered excuses to leave the table. I made quick dashes to the front door, swinging it open and gazing out at the road. No sign of Sean ever came.

  “Are you expecting someone, dear?” Mother finally asked, while I retook my place at the bench. “You seem pre-occupied with that door.”

  “No, Mother. I keep thinking that it would be wonderful if Sean came home today.”

  “Yes, it would,” said Father, belching on his water. “I’d like to see a normal day for once. The work never takes a leave from the day.”

  I knew my father’s war
nings well and immediately stopped talking. I poked a sliver of pork steak with my knife, tossed it onto my plate, and ate heartily, hoping to avoid a discussion of my implied laziness. Father seemed to forget about me, and resumed his ranting about how difficult the horses were acting that morning. He kept hinting that he needed more help, but I knew better than to volunteer; Father was unbearable while he was shoeing horses.

  I pretended to be interested in my food until everyone had finished theirs, and long after Father had dragged Ethan back outside. As I carried my dishes into the kitchen, Leila was begging Mother to allow her to visit Michael.

  “Please, Mother,” she said, scrubbing a plate clean with a soapy cloth. “I’ll come home soon, and I’ll help extra with tonight’s cleanup.”

  “I don’t know,” said Mother, snatching the cloth from my sister. She walked briskly into the dining room. “Maybe Rhiannon should go with you.” She wiped the table more vigorously than it needed. “You’re too young to wander across the village alone, especially to visit a young man.”

  “I’m going for a ride this afternoon,” I said, quickly turning to Mother. I didn’t need the ride; however, I wasn’t eager to listen while Leila and Michael giggled the afternoon away. Missing Sean was torture enough. Besides, I wanted to be home when he arrived. I glanced at Leila, who begged me with her eyes. “Leila is getting older,” I told my mother, while offering my sister a goodwill gift. “In fact, she is no younger than I was when I began courting Sean.”

  I knew Mother hated it when we talked about our age; it made her feel older than she looked. Still, I needed a way to allow Leila her freedom, and to release me from the duties of an afternoon chaperone.

  “All right,” said Mother, tossing a handful of crumbs into the fireplace. “I want both of you home quickly.” She turned to Leila. “And no kissing! I’ll speak to Tara if I need to.”

  Leila’s face was redder than a berry, but she was grinning. She mouthed a quick ‘thank you’ to me and dashed down the hall.

  “She likes him,” I said, grabbing a broom from the corner. I whisked it across the dining room floor. “You should see them together.”