On Fallen Wings

by Jamie McHenry

  “Rhiannon, wait,” said Nia, reaching out for my arm. “You can’t do anything. The Elders are going to meet in council.”

  “I’m going to talk to the man,” I said, shaking myself free. “He has something I need.”

  I ducked between the rails of the fence and picked up the saddle. I coaxed the nearest horse, Drew, and threw the saddle on his back when he trotted eagerly toward me. While I was tightening the girth, the leather broke on the cinch strap.

  I cursed and tossed the broken strap back at the stable. “Can’t anything be right?” I grabbed the saddle from Drew’s back and heaved it over the fence. I ducked under to claim another one.

  “Calm down, Rhiannon,” said Nia. She stood in front of the remaining saddles. “I knew that you’d be bothered. I won’t let you do something brash.”

  “You don’t know anything,” I told her, raising my voice.

  Nia didn’t move, and her glare told me that she wouldn’t. We had known each other since walking age, and she was the only girl in the village who could wrestle me to the ground—and she knew it. I grumbled at her and turned to leave.

  “Rhiannon, where are you going?”

  Ignoring her, I ran into the field. Nia yelled after me, but I ignored her calls. Instead, I dashed toward her home, toward the curse of my life. I was going to see the bandit.

  Despite my eagerness to fly across the meadow, my burst of energy was short-lived, and I slowed to a walk, heaving large gasps of air while stretching my burning legs. I turned around; Nia had given chase, and was walking not far behind. When she saw me turn to look, she waved her arms and resumed running.

  Forced to continue in haste, I winced and ran again, fighting the pain in my lungs while crossing the wide expanse. When I reached the other side, I ducked under the fence and dashed along the winding forest trail. I was almost to the gate of Nia’s home, when she grabbed me from behind and threw me to the ground.

  “Stop it!” I yelled, rolling away from her. “Let me go.”

  “No,” said Nia. “He’s nothing but trouble. Let the Elders deal with him.”

  “You don’t understand,” I said, scrambling to my feet. “I have to see him. I have to talk to him.”

  “Of course, I don’t understand,” said Nia. “You haven’t told me anything. What’s going on? Why do you need to talk to the bandit?”

  “Because he stole the scrolls,” I said, trying my best to control my voice. “Cael needed them to save Sean, but the bandit stole them from him.”

  “What scrolls?” said Nia. “Rhiannon, what are you talking about?”

  “The Fae Scrolls.”

  Nia blanched. “How did he—”

  “I gave them to him,” I said, interrupting her question with a low voice. “Cael had word from Sean’s captors in Morgan. They were demanding the scrolls for his release.”

  “Is that what he told you the day after the attack?”

  “Yes!” I had revealed the truth to her, so I wasn’t going to let her wonder any longer. “It was the only way to save Sean,” I said, pleading for her understanding. “But the bandit stole them the night he robbed your home.”

  “Come on,” said Nia, tugging at my arm and pulling me away from her gate. “Follow me.”

  “Where are you going?” I asked. “You said your father caught him.”

  “The bandit is at the smokehouse,” she said, continuing to pull. “Father won’t let the man into our home.”

  I followed Nia across her yard and into the brush. Deep inside the trees, at a small clearing, Rance sat on a rolled log guarding Darian. As we approached, Darian turned his head and looked up at me, smiling.

  Raging anger flared up inside me. When I saw his smile, I knew he was guilty. How dare he smile at me, after what he has done? I ran to him, ignoring Rance when he stood to protest, and punched Darian in the face.

  “Why did you do it?” I screamed. My fists shook as I stared down my victim. I clenched them tight and my knuckles grew white from the pressure.

  “I didn’t do anything,” said Darian. The skin around his eye was red and swelling. “Let me go. I’m trying to get home.”

  “Where you’re going, there’s no way back,” I said. “You don’t deserve to live.” In a thrust of rage, I kicked him in the ribs.

  My anger was feeding itself. Darian rolled to his side and faced away.

  “Look at me!” Tears welled in my eyes, but I fought them back. I ached from Sean’s death, but refused to reveal the pain to anyone, especially this creature. I stepped over Darian and pressed down on his shoulder with my foot, forcing him to look up. “Why did you take the scrolls? They were meant for something—something really important.” I took a deep, soothing breath. “You’re a murderer.”

  The hatred and anger combined into a fire that burned hot and red. In a flurry, I struck Darian repeatedly, determined to hurt him as badly as he had hurt me. The anger flowed free and uninhibited, from my pained heart to the vessel of my madness.

  “Rhiannon, you must stop,” said Nia. She shook my shoulders. Her eyes were wet and terrified. “Don’t do this. It won’t bring him back.”

  I shifted my gaze from my best friend to my victim. While my chest heaved with deep breathing, my diamond flashed a reminder of the courage Sean had offered me. The courage I had ignored. I was one of the Fae—a faerie, dedicated to healing and peace of others. I looked again at Darian’s face. His dark eyes spoke his pain.

  I stepped back as regret emptied my soul and drained all emotion from me. “I’m sorry,” I said. The weakness in my voice surprised me. “I’m so sorry.” I stepped away and stumbled back into the forest toward home.

  That isn’t where I went. I couldn’t go home—not right away. I needed to be alone, to make sense of what had just happened. When I arrived at the field, I climbed under the fence and collapsed on the ground. My lungs ached and my face felt like it was on fire. I rubbed my hands together. They were bruised and bleeding.

  What had I done?

  The impulse that had possessed me was acting on everything I wanted, everything I had felt at that moment; but it wasn’t me. I was confused.

  Who have I become?

  While I lay in the grass, staring at the afternoon sky, my mind whispered a thousand words at once, voiding any chance for a clear thought. I was a faerie. I had attacked a man, striking him until he screamed. The season had affected me with chilling malice. My hands hurt from the cuts. I had done this; I was to blame. This wasn’t what I was supposed to be. This wasn’t anyone. Darian had taken the scrolls, but how could he know of their importance to me?

  I didn’t know anything anymore. I couldn’t breathe. I stayed in the grass, trying to convince myself that I had a right to do what I did, and that I had avenged Sean’s death. My own thoughts failed to bring me comfort. During those same moments, my mind told me that I was worse than anyone in the village was. I had stolen our sacred record, I had lied to everyone, and I had just beaten a helpless person. Perhaps fate had taken Sean from me for my actions. Perhaps simply this was the justice I deserved.

  Haunted by my inner voice, the relenting conscience that spoke to me in the silence, I picked myself up from the grass and staggered home. There was nothing for me on this side of the meadow.

  Fallen Wings

  Early the next morning, while eating a meal with my family, the sun announced its arrival and brightened the dining room through the window. At that same moment, the front door shook with a knock. I had been expecting it.

  “I’ll get it,” said Ethan, beating Leila to the hall.

  I wiped my mouth and stood to collect my dishes.

  “Rhiannon,” yelled Ethan from the door. “There’s a messenger here.”

  “A messenger?” asked Father, glancing at me. He yelled back at Ethan. “What does he want?”

  “It’s okay, Father,” I said, patting him on the shoulder while I maneuvered around him toward the hall. “I know what this is about.”

  When
I reached the door, Leila and Mother had crowded behind me and pushed me forward. Ethan stepped aside and let me pass. Gavin Tully stood on the step, dressed proper and handsome. He, too, had an early start to the day.

  “I have a message for you,” he said, offering me an envelope.

  I thanked him and accepted the parchment. “Would you like to come inside?” I felt the door open wider behind me.

  “No, thank you,” he answered. “The message has been paid for.”

  I knew what he meant. A sealed message paid in advance was official business of either the Elders, or the Fae. I was being summoned.

  “Have a good day,” I told him, trying to sound pleasant. The envelope shook in my fingers.

  “What is it?” said Mother. “Why are you being summoned?”

  I bit my lip, causing it to bleed. “I need to see the Fae,” I said. “Something’s happened.” I shoved my way past her and Leila and scrambled up the stairs, slamming my bedroom door behind me.

  I was sobbing into my hands as I collapsed on the bed. The envelope was proof that my life was over. Knowing its contents, but fearing the words, I rolled over and stared at the golden writing on the parchment.

  Rhiannon Phillips. A request from Raisa Bannon.

  Ignoring its folded seal, I tore the edge of the thick paper and shook it open. The message read:

  Rhiannon of the Fae,

  You are summoned to my home immediately, to discuss recent events regarding your membership. Please arrive alone.

  A blessing of good fortune,

  Raisa Bannon.

  Fate had caught me and pressed me into a corner; there was no place to run, and no one to help me. While I stared at the symbols on the parchment, trying to decode them for some other meaning, Mother called to me from the hallway.

  “Rhiannon, are you okay?”

  I wiped my eyes and took a deep breath. “Yes, Mother, I’m okay. I’ve been summoned to Raisa Bannon’s home. I must go now.”

  Mother opened the door, peering as if seeking silent permission to enter. She held out her hand. “What does it say?”

  Resigned to the inevitable, I shoved the parchment into her hand and grabbed my gown from the closet. While I quickly put it on, wondering if this would be the last day that I would wear it, the words from the summons burned in my head. Mother didn’t speak. Instead, she took the brush from my dresser and used it to pull my hair with long, fluid stokes.

  “What color shawl do I wear?” I asked, wincing as she pulled my head back.

  “Gold,” she whispered. “You should present yourself with pleasant grace.”

  At that moment, my tears returned. I had always loved my mother, because she was wonderful; that day, she was perfect. She had read the note, and had seen my possible fate. She couldn’t know what I had done, yet she said those kind words to me.

  “Thank you,” I said. I slipped the golden-laced shawl over my gown and then turned to face her. Her face was tranquil and loving. I offered her a hug, squeezing her tight and long. “I’m sorry, Mother. I’m sorry.”

  Mother said nothing, but cradled the back of my head in her palm. I was terrified to face my future, but in my mother’s arms, I could pretend for a moment that I was still carefree and innocent, looking eagerly forward to each new day. Everything about her presence was soothing. Her warmth, her smell, even her gentle breath calmed me. I held on as long as I could, and then released her. After a final look in the mirror—I was beautiful in that gown—I left my room and stepped slowly down toward the front door.

  I didn’t speak, and I never waved goodbye, as I walked outside and closed the door behind me. A brittle wind whistled through the trees, caught my face, and tangled my hair back. It was going to be a long walk across the village.

  Many villagers stopped and stared while I passed them. I must have appeared as a spectacle to them. No one spoke to me, and I pointedly ignored them, staring only at the trees. It was a walk I never imagined I’d be taking. When I reached the thin trail leading to Raisa’s eccentric home, I paused, gave a sigh, then stepped forward. Mother’s words lingered in my mind. You should present yourself with pleasant grace.

  As I stepped down the trail, a gust of wind shook the trees around me, causing them to shake and shudder. At that moment, all of the leaves released their grip on the trees and fluttered to the ground, a cyclone of orange, red, and yellow that whipped the trees and scoured the forest floor. I closed my eyes, afraid that the world was ending.

  When the noise ended, I opened my eyes. The trees were suddenly bare. Only a few meandering leaves occupied the air as they fluttered slowly—twisting and spiraling—until they joined the blanket of color at my feet.

  The silence was gone and the forest floor, newly covered in bright leaves, rolled and shuffled while tiny creatures climbed their way from under the instant covering. Squirrels scampered up the trees, rabbits leapt across the trail, and a tiny fox turned to insult me with his eyes before dancing along the trail past me. His actions left me longing; even the forest, it seemed, was turning its back to me. I fought back tears while I walked through the thick leaves toward Raisa’s home.

  “Hello, Rhiannon,” she said, opening her front door at the exact moment I stepped onto the grass. She was wearing her gown of the Fae, and stood straight and regal.

  I waved politely and shuffled across the grass, unwilling to make her wait. She had the power to influence my future, and I couldn’t risk offending her. “Hello, Raisa,” I said, bowing when I reached the door.

  She opened her arms and embraced me for a quick moment before spinning me inside. She slammed the door behind me. “How was your walk?” Without waiting for my response, she scampered down the hall and waved an arm above her head, signaling for me to follow.

  “Lonely,” I answered anyway, doubting she heard me. “The leaves fell.” I took a place at the couch where I had sat during my last visit.

  Raisa didn’t respond. She pulled a silk bag from her cupboard and returned to the living room. “Would you like a refreshment?” She emptied the bag onto a porcelain plate on the tiny table between us.

  Almond cookies. My mouth watered. I was there for business; however, I couldn’t resist their sweet smell.

  “Thank you,” I said, taking one.

  While I indulged in a brief moment of flavorful bliss, Raisa walked around the small table and sat next to me. I swallowed my bite.

  “Tell me what happened, Rhiannon,” she said, aiming her question like an arrow. “What did you do?”

  I held my breath and dropped my gaze to look down at my hands while I answered, but decided better. They were cut from the day prior. When I lifted my head, Raisa was staring at me. Large and hazel, her eyes demanded the truth. My tears broke free and poured down my cheeks.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, using my sleeve as a towel.

  In the confines of her strange little home, I told my story to the Faerie Queen, sobbing through the details of the week. The moment was agonizing. It wouldn’t end. The more I spoke, the more my words haunted me, as they were painful and honest. Raisa said nothing, but nodded after each sentence. My head hurt, my eyes burned, and my stomach twisted the emotion from me. The Faerie Queen offered no condolence and no support. She merely compelled me with those hazel eyes.

  When I finished, I sniffled and shuddered. I wiped my eyes dry.

  “Is that everything?” asked Raisa.

  I nodded.

  “Where are the scrolls, now?”

  “I—I don’t know. He wouldn’t tell me.”

  “The bandit?”

  I nodded. “Yes.”

  Raisa patted me on the knee and groaned as she stood. I reached over to help her, but she waved me away. She hobbled to the other side of the table.

  “What’s going to happen?”

  “What do you think will happen?” Raisa’s voice was still kind, but tense; she was holding something back. The silence was more painful than the answer I feared.

  “Am I
losing my position in the Fae?” I sensed that it was coming, and decided to end the suspense. My heart had suffered enough pain.

  “I cannot make that decision alone,” said Raisa, turning away from me. “Your fate as a faerie lies with all of your sisters. I will offer my opinion.”

  Hope, there was still hope. I smiled inside, but kept my face calm and muted. Once the other Fae heard about why I had acted in such a way, they would certainly understand. Raisa understood; she knew of the pain I was suffering, and would be sympathetic to my cause.

  Raisa turned back to face me. “I will call for a Faerie Gathering,” she said. “Present yourself to Stone Meadow at dusk.”

  I bowed respectfully, but at that moment, the gravity of my situation hit me, as if the Faerie Queen had pressed her hands against my chest and pushed with the weight of the other women. I felt the blow, and it stung.

  “I’ll arrive at dusk,” I said, my voice shaking.

  “That is all.” Raisa motioned for me to stand, and led me to the front door.

  Outside, I turned to offer thanks to her for listening, but she closed it behind me, leaving me to the solitude of the forest.

  The walk home was lonely and full of tears. I could have counted my steps. As I disturbed the newly fallen leaves, they crumpled and sang with haunting abandonment. My faith had been my strength, and my actions my weakness. What would have happened without them both? I was confused, helpless, and most of all, angry. Still, the leaves kept their chatter below my feet.

  The weather changed during that lonely walk across the village. When I left Raisa’s home, it had been cool and calm, but an icy wind soon lifted the leaves from the forest floor and stirred them like a stew around me. I bundled my shawl close, but it lacked warmth, and no longer offered comfort. I ran the remainder of the journey. It was going to be a cold night.

  ~ O ~

  I wanted to be alone that evening and face my fate in secrecy; however, I knew that if the council chose to expel me from the Fae, I would need someone to guide me home. The anger hadn’t left, and after what I had done to Darian, I feared my actions and myself. Among the quiet tears that afternoon, thoughts of revenge toward him had crept into my mind. I was weakened, and a part of me, although deep inside, knew that Raisa was right to call a council. I had changed.