On Fallen Wings

by Jamie McHenry

  “She’s just happy to be out of the house,” said Mother. “It has been a long season, and she’s restless. I’ll be glad when it’s over.”

  I looked up and smiled, but didn’t speak. I agreed with her. This Moon Season had drained me.

  I shoveled my pile of dirt and crumbs out the back door and ran to make a final check at the front porch before wandering back to the stable. Maeia was near the barn. She ambled to the stable after I called her.

  Once she was properly dressed, combed, and fed a healthy portion of oats and cold water for her efforts, I climbed onto her saddle and nudged her forward. Without any urgency, we crossed the field and trotted aimlessly along the eastern tree line. I thought about visiting Nia, and then questioning Cael about Sean’s release, but after waffling at the trail’s entrance for too long, I decided against it. Once Sean was home, I would have no reason to see Cael again, and would be happier if that came sooner than not.

  I decided to relax and released the reins, allowing Maeia to take me where she wished; it was something I had always enjoyed. I felt like an invisible visitor with the other horses as she ambled around the herd, nudging and talking in a way that most people failed to understand. I leaned low on her back and rested my head in her mane. It felt soft and I could feel her pulsing rhythm while she wandered throughout the meadow.

  Maeia walked toward the lake, following the fence the entire journey. When we reached the gravel shore, I climbed down and approached the icy water; the lake between Morgan and Aisling was never warm. I washed my face, shivering at the chill, and stared at the empty surface. Usually, a small boat or two would travel across the lake from Morgan back to Owen’s dock. Despite the tension, there was some civility between our villages, and Owen was a part of that. He kept them supplied with grain and other needs, while they kept him wealthy with rare crystals and pork.

  Maeia nudged me from behind, so I stopped staring absently and ambled along the shore at her side. I hoped the peaceful walk would help me clear my mind.

  Ahead of us, a bundled shadow lay motionless on the gravel beach. From where I stood, it looked like a hairy animal, although I couldn’t tell with any certainty. I approached it reluctantly, my heart pounding in my ears. As Maeia and I drew closer, I realized the bundle was a person. A man, judging from the size. I froze.

  “Hello.” My voice was hoarse and trembling.

  He didn’t move.

  Reaching the man, I leaned over him, but recoiled from the smell. “Sir?” I asked out of habit, but knew in my heart that the man couldn’t answer me. I steeled myself to reach across him, and then rolled him toward me to see his face.

  Sean lay in front of me, pale and motionless. His eyes were wide—with no life left. I tried to breathe and couldn’t. My vision turned black around the edges. I was locked in a nightmare. Certainly I would awaken any moment. This couldn’t be real. An eternity passed before my lungs opened and allowed me to take a breath. Someone was screaming, a sound of terrible despair. Distantly, I realized it was me.

  Over and over, I pleaded with him. “Please be alive—please.” My breath wavered and I forgot to inhale. Was I intentionally trying not to?

  Sean lay stiff and pale in my arms. My future was dead.

  I kissed his brow, his pale cheek, and lowered him to the sand. I smoothed the tangled hair away from his face, and left him looking as if he were cloud-dreaming on a spring afternoon. My feet were leaden as I walked to Maeia. How I mounted her, I’ll never know. I gave her a sharp kick and commanded her to take me home. With every step toward the house, I nudged her forward, matching my tears with jabs at her side to carry me to safety. When we arrived at the stable, I leapt from her and rolled in the grass. I might have been injured, but I felt nothing; there was nothing left to take from me. I dodged under the fence and ran to the house, allowing my tears to drench me.

  Inside, Mother was humming as she kneaded some dough, but took one look at me, and the song died from her lips, the blood drained from her face. “Rhiannon, what’s wrong?” She rushed to me, frantic.

  I couldn’t speak. My lungs tightened and my body refused to let me free. I pointed toward the lake and forced the only word I could. “Sean.”

  The world went dark as I fell.

  Evermore

  My dreams had left me. Hundreds of moments passed in tiny morsels of memory, although they were sounds mostly. I couldn’t stay conscious long enough to understand. I saw red. I saw my father. I heard whispers and cries. I woke to rain spattering on the window and Mother’s voice. I opened my eyes.

  “Rhiannon?” Mother sounded worried.

  I was lying in my bed, facing the window, but it was foggy and dark. “What’s going on?” I asked, straining to focus.

  Mother leaned over me. She was pale and the edges of her eyes were red. “Would you like something to drink?”

  I nodded. My legs felt detached and useless. My arms tingled like I had been sleeping for a long while. Madeline approached and offered me a small cup.

  “Here,” she said, holding it in front of me. “Drink this.”

  The scent of liquid night curled under my nose. I needed its energy and leaned eagerly toward it. With a groan, I pulled myself to sit, and accepted the cup with a weak smile. Madeline stepped back and watched me as I drank. A flood of cold vigor flushed the pain from my body. I sat straighter.

  “Thank you,” I said. I finished the drink.

  Mother stood in front of the dark window, watching me. She blended into the scene behind her. “What do you remember?” she asked.

  I squeezed my face, fighting a surge of emotion. “Was it a dream?”

  “No, dear.” Mother shook her head. “I’m so sorry.”

  I tipped the cup, hoping for more energy, but it was empty. Madeline leaned forward and took it from my hands. Hers were trembling. She didn’t speak and glided quickly out of the room. The tea had served its purpose—my body had power. My mind lacked clarity and reason.

  “Where is he?” I gripped my own fingers for comfort. “Where’s Sean?”

  Mother removed her hands. “He’s been prepared for burial. The funeral is today.”

  It wasn’t a dream.

  I tried to be strong, but my voice trembled. “Today?” I asked. “Already?”

  “Yes. You’ve been sleeping for two days.” Mother left the window and leaned over me to rub my shoulders. “Rhiannon, I’m so sorry.”

  I fell into my pillow. It was a lonely comfort during this terrible moment. For an instant, I wished it would swallow my life and put me to sleep forever. A cold tear caressed my cheek and brought me back. There was no escape. I reached up and patted Mother’s shoulder.

  We didn’t talk much while Mother helped me dress. As was the tradition, I wore the white gown of the Fae with a crimson shawl of mourning. Underneath, I wore warm wool stockings and a sweater. Mother warned me it was cold outside.

  She was right. Hard rain met me as I stepped out the front door. It seeped into my bones without hesitation or remorse for its intrusion. There was a breeze, but it didn’t bother me; it was the rain that was cold. Mother covered me in a thick blanket and we walked quietly through Aisling, shivering and crying together.

  Other villagers, including the rest of my family, walked ahead of us and mingled while our procession trudged through the mud. I couldn’t hear their words; the rain had grown to a loud downpour that overpowered every voice. Madeline and Colin soon joined us. Madeline also wore her white robe and crimson shawl.

  Deep in the forest, near the center of Aisling, we reached the trail to Evermore —the exit of the dead. There, we stopped walking. No one spoke. Several bards held large vertical drums at their chests, and waited for our Exit March, the slow procession to Evermore.

  Already on the trail, four hooded men carried a crude wooden crate; Sean lay inside. I lost strength when I saw it and fell to the mud. Mother helped me back to my feet and urged me to look away, but I couldn’t—I had to watch. Cael was one of t
he men. He didn’t speak or look in my direction, and he stepped forward with the others when Colin motioned to begin the march.

  The drums began. They pounded slow, deep rhythms of solitude that reached me deeper than the rain.

  Boom.

  Their power made me shake and, in the rain, it felt like thunder. I took a cold breath, then shuddered and walked forward with the procession, shrouded in misery. The tears fell free.

  When we reached Evermore, the crate bearers lowered Sean into a hole, dug deep in the center of the small meadow. We stood between the trees and watched while they covered him with muddy soil.

  The beating rain was drowning us. Earl pulled a long wooden stake from under his cloak, and with a painful moan, he thrust it deep into the mud, leaving just its top to mark Sean’s grave.

  Boom.

  Beside me, Mother sobbed. Consumed in my own agony, I pulled her closer, and offered my warmth, although I had barely any. There were no more drums. Sean was gone forever.

  The four crate bearers slowly walked away from the dark mound, followed by Colin. Eventually, Earl wandered into the trees, leaving Evermore empty. Around me, I could feel the other villagers leaving, and heard the rain opening the soil where they had stood. I handed my portion of the blanket to Mother, and walked into the naked space toward Sean’s grave. I knelt in the mud near his burial mound.

  “Sean,” I said, “you were my future. Now there is no future.” I sat in the mud, drenched and shivering, while the rain pounded harder and louder. Tiny balls of ice beat against my back and bounced off the mud. It was painful, but I refused to run for the cover of the trees. This was my last moment with Sean. “Goodbye.”

  Someone put a hand on my shoulder. “Rhiannon?” Cael stood over me.

  “Leave me alone.”

  “I want to tell you what happened.”

  “You failed,” I said. “I did everything you asked, and still, you didn’t bring him home.”

  Cael knelt next to me. I could see he had been crying. “I never had the chance to save him,” he said. “I never—”

  “You have the scrolls.” I interrupted his excuse. “Why didn’t you free him? Why didn’t you free your brother?” I took a deep breath and channeled the pain I felt into a final burst of interrogation. “Didn’t you love him, Cael? Were you afraid of his happiness? Were you afraid of me?”

  Cael lowered his head and then spoke so soft that I could barely hear him over the roar around us. “I don’t have the scrolls,” he said. “They were taken from me.”

  “You’re lying.” An icy chill consumed me. “Who took them from you?”

  Cael shook his head and didn’t look up. “The bandit.”

  A fire ignited inside me and quickly took over. I was no longer in pain; I was furious. The anger continued, not as a crawling desire, but as burning hatred. I hadn’t felt this way before—not as a faerie. My fingers tingled, and my toes ached from the sudden thaw. The bandit. That mysterious man, who I had set free in the woods only a few days ago, had ruined my life. All it took was his name, and I hated him.

  I hated Cael for telling me.

  “When did this happen?” I demanded. “Where is he?”

  “I don’t know where he is,” said Cael. “The night after we met in the forest, he went into the Dorsey home. He took many things, including the scrolls.” Cael grabbed my hand; it was icy and wet. “Talk to Owen, he’ll tell you what happened. I never had a chance to save Sean.”

  “You never took the chance,” I said, yanking my hand away. “You failed him, Cael. You failed me. And now, because you let the scrolls get away, you failed the village.”

  “Rhiannon.”

  “Get away,” I said, shoving him with all of the strength remaining in my arm. “I never want to see you again.”

  Cael didn’t move.

  “Go!”

  I slumped in the mud, surrounded by wet sleet and loud thunder, crying painful tears over Sean’s grave. Cael left my side. I didn’t see him—I didn’t care. I was frozen and my heart was dead. When I had no more tears, I walked away from Evermore. At its edge, Nia and her father waited.

  “I’m sorry, Rhia,” said Nia, holding out her arms.

  I slowly accepted her embrace. I needed her friendship, but at that moment, I despised her happy life, regardless of what the bandit may have taken from her.

  Still bound by Nia’s arms, I turned to Owen. “Is it true?” I asked. “Were you robbed?”

  Owen nodded. “These have been horrible days,” he said. “I’m sorrier for your loss, than for ours.”

  I nodded an acceptance of his apology.

  His kind words felt genuine. I pulled an arm out from Nia’s grasp and touched his shoulder. The rain was slowing.

  “I want to find the bandit,” I said. “He was involved in Sean’s death.” I squeezed his shoulder. “Will you help me?”

  Owen shifted in the mud. “I’ll find this man,” he said. “The Elders have already met. We discussed many things, including—” For a moment, he looked at Sean’s grave. “Sean.” After a moment, he looked back at me and continued speaking. “We’re forming a search squad to find the bandit. I’ve volunteered to lead it.”

  “You have my gratitude,” I said.

  Owen nodded. “I’m doing this for the village,” he said, “and if capturing this man will lead to solving the mystery around Sean’s death, then I’ll work extra hard—for you.”

  Nia released me from her hug. She held my hands and leaned back. “Is there anything I can do?”

  I shook my head. “You have a happy life ahead of you,” I said. “Hold his hand every day and thank the stars for allowing you to be together. Happiness is a gift.” I tried to smile. “I’m giving you mine.”

  “Oh, Rhiannon.” Nia pulled me close again. “Don’t talk that way.”

  I stood stiff. “We’ve just buried my fiancé,” I said, coldly. “There’s no other way to talk.”

  The Fire within Me

  I spent the next few days mourning at the stable—the only solitary place where I could escape. I didn’t feel like talking to Mother, and Ethan was his usual self. The rains had washed away a part of the yard near the barn, so Father had been busy repairing a large stretch of the meadow fence where the boards had leaned over. Leila avoided me completely; I don’t remember seeing her much.

  As I finished feeding the horses one morning, Nia arrived, surprising me with a grin and a friendly greeting.

  “Hello,” I answered back, forcing myself to be polite.

  Amazingly, as the words escaped, a small smile found its way to the corners of my lips.

  “I’m feeling better,” I said, unsure of why I said it.

  Another smile.

  “I thought you might be,” said Nia, flopping down on the loose hay in the center of the stable. “You’re strong that way.”

  “What else can I do?” I said, shrugging. I hoped she wouldn’t pry. “There’s nothing left to be weak for.”

  “Certainly,” she said, agreeing with me.

  I could tell that she was avoiding upsetting me, and I welcomed her effort. The light conversation was clearing my mind.

  Nia leaned back and reclined in the hay. She looked comfortable. “I sold the crystal.”

  “The crystal?” I said, curious. “What crystal?”

  “You know—the emerald. The one I found.”

  “Really?” I asked. “Was it valuable? Who did you sell it to?”

  Nia nodded. “I traded it to a collector in DarMattey. The crystal fascinated him. He said it was some sort of ancient key. He paid well.”

  “That’s wonderful.”

  “Yes, it is.” smiled Nia. “Thomas is using the money to buy us a home. We’ll have the wedding as soon as the moon is gone.

  Moon Season.

  The cold had lasted so long that I had forgotten that the winter was supposed to be over. I stared out the stable and toward the forest. Everywhere, tiny buds formed on the plants and trees.


  “I hate the moon,” I said, turning back to her. “The sooner it leaves us, the better.”

  Nia leaned forward, as if to protest, but closed her mouth. After a moment of thought, she spoke again. “Will you come to the wedding? I’d like you to be there.”

  “Of course, I’ll come,” I answered, tossing a handful of hay at her. “You don’t have to ask. That’s silly.”

  “It’s not silly,” said Nia. “I’m not getting married in Aisling. We’ll have the ceremony in DarMattey.”

  I wrenched my face. “Why would you get married there? Their traditions are so different than from Aisling. Will your father let you?”

  Nia nodded. “It’s part of our agreement. Thomas agreed to the engagement ceremony in Aisling, as long as I agreed to marry him in DarMattey. Father accepted the terms.”

  “Okay,” I said, trying to ignore the fact that my best friend was moving away soon. “At least you’ll be close to Sianna.”

  Nia smiled and stared past me. She didn’t speak; however, I could tell that she wanted to say something.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  Nia stared for a moment longer and then looked down. “I don’t know how to tell you.” She twisted the embroidery at the bottom of her dress.

  “What?” I said. Blood rushed to my face as I realized that her visit wasn’t to talk about her wedding. “What’s happened?”

  Nia looked up. “Will you promise to be calm?” she asked, her voice quivering.

  I nodded. “Okay, if you’ll tell me.”

  “My father has captured the bandit.”

  I reached out and yanked her from the hay. “When? Why didn’t you tell me at once?”

  “I wanted to talk to you first,” she said, twisting free. She brushed hay off her dress. “I knew that the news would bother you.”

  “I’m not bothered,” I said, stepping backward. “Where is he?”

  “My father has him. He—”

  Before she could finish, I grabbed my saddle and flung it over the top rail of the fence. I returned to the stable wall and collected a harness. I was leaving.