by Jamie Day
I took a deep breath and smiled. “Yes, we will.”
I wanted to talk more, to gossip with my friend, but Nia’s eyes were shadowed with fatigue. The day must have been long for her and tomorrow would be full of excitement. I wished her goodnight, kissed her on the forehead and rolled into my covers to sleep.
~ O ~
The next morning, I tried to ignore the portent of the mist-covered windows. A rainy wedding day was never a good sign; that’s what I had always believed. Nia must have forgotten, or did a good job of deceiving us. She woke before everyone, humming and singing the entire morning. Her rapturous smile kept anyone from denying that it could be a fantastically beautiful wedding.
We ate a quick breakfast—more dried biscuits with gravy—and dressed for a wedding. My lavender skirt appeared pale and worn compared to the elegance that Nia displayed. Her gown glittered, even in the dim light, with forest green sleeves and dazzling green beads stitched into the seams to match her eyes. Her shoes sparkled every time Nia spun in a circle, which she seemed to do all morning. When Nia would sit long enough, Madeline weaved braids and ribbons into her hair. She, too, looked plain in her brown dress and simple boots.
“This isn’t a celebration of the Fae,” she said, explaining why she didn’t wear the ceremonial gold and white I had expected. “This is Nia’s day in DarMattey.”
Nia continued her overdose of charm, which threatened to become annoying, but I smiled back and wished her good fortune as I brushed the tangles from my hair. Then Nia’s family piled into the back of Jake’s wagon and I prepared Maeia for our ride.
The clouds hung low and heavy, hinting that they might burst at any moment, but that wasn’t my worry. The muddy road was thick and high on the horses’ ankles. It grabbed at the wheels of Jake’s wagon and made the journey slow. I followed well behind, unsure of the route, and unwilling to accept the flying bits of mud thrown my way from the wagon wheels. I waved at Connor, who seemed to enjoy the day as much as the bride did, bouncing back and forth across the wagon while Nia chanted melodies of good fortune.
We strode through the middle of town, which was empty, save a few men who offered polite nods toward our procession. When we passed the little glass shop, I searched for Oscar, but his store was lifeless and dull, void of the brilliant color I had seen yesterday.
Once past the large square storefronts, the road narrowed into a pair of deep ruts cut into long grass that reached my feet. Tiny droplets, remnants of the night’s rain, released their grip on the grass and coated my boots with moisture. Inside, my feet were warm, but my body shivered from the cold. There was no sun to warm us that day.
Slow and silent, except for Nia’s singing, we journeyed past rolling hills, fenced pastures, and scattered oak trees. Jake finally stopped at a large red barn, the largest I had ever seen. It stood with bright contrast to the gray of the skies that stole the color from the landscape. Beyond the barn, a tall square home crested a low hill.
“Here we are,” announced Jake to an eruption of relieved sighs and cheers from everyone in the back of the wagon. “Mind where you step as you climb down. It’s slippery.”
I had never been to a wedding away from Stone Meadow, and was unsure of what to expect, but the absence of crowds, music, and roasting meat reminded me of the loneliness of Raisa Bannon, the widowed faerie queen. I suddenly felt sorrow for Nia. A wedding was supposed to be a celebration. This place—and this day—seemed to offer nothing but melancholy and sludge.
“Rhiannon?” asked Nia, stopping to stare at me while her family scuttled into the barn. “Are you okay?”
I smiled a lie. “Yes,” I told her. “I’m happy for you, that’s all.” I rushed to her to continue my persuasion. “It’s an exciting day!”
I fought twists of pain as I said the words. They tore at my chest, revealing the sadness that lurked beneath. I also missed Sean. What would our wedding have been like? How would he have looked? I saw Stone Meadow in my mind and saw my love standing before me, with his brother on one side and his father on the other. I imagined the celebration dancing that could have been, and the feast and Father’s drinking. It could have been wonderful. But that day would never happen.
And the weather never changed. Inside the barn, I was forced to hide my doldrums with even more persistence. The remnants of the animals—all their hair, their soiled hay, and manure—lingered in mud that was as thick as the smell. Still, Nia hummed and sang while the men shoveled the mud away and the women tied colorful ribbons around the beams.
More men from DarMattey arrived. They brought a dozen long benches, lining them in straight rows inside the cleared space. The men looked handsome; they wore cravats around their necks and straight black coats over white collared shirts. They removed their hats and bowed at every introduction to the women, revealing flattened hair and manners I had never seen before.
Despite the persistent rain, the barn started transforming into a brighter, more satisfying location for the sacred ceremony. I was happy for that, and for Nia. She deserved a pleasant day.
“What do you think of DarMattey?” asked Sam, who had somehow sneaked behind me and startled me with a tap on my shoulder.
When I turned to answer him, I saw two young men, with similar curly hair, standing over him, prying with their eyes. I nodded politely and left them with a dry smile and an excuse to help with more decorations.
That’s when I met the Teagan sisters; they weren’t twins, although you wouldn’t know it from their matching blue dresses. Genna was the older one; Grace was a year younger than Thomas was. They had cut their hair short, so it hung barely above their shoulders. It was pretty, however odd to me, and every time I saw one of them passing by, I caught myself staring. The two were kind, though, and certainly polite. None of the Teagan family ever spoke an ill phrase, even when a glass pitcher fell from a table and shattered on the ground. Like Nia, they seemed overly-pleased with the day.
I expected reverence in the ceremony, but, as I sat on one bench next to Madeline and watched my best friend seal her life to Thomas, all I heard were the words and promises spoken. It felt empty, but perhaps that’s the way I was feeling. Like the weather, I was low and ready to burst.
When the ceremony ended, and after Nia kissed Thomas for the first time as his bride, I clapped with the others, though it was only a motion. I wanted more than this. Nia deserved more. My best friend, with all the luxuries she could ever want, and a family name to carry her forever, was marrying under a broken sky. I wondered how many of the people here knew that she had nearly become a faerie. She was almost royalty in Aisling; here, she was a common stranger.
After the ceremony, everyone mingled and visited. The food was a delicious change after Sianna’s cooking. I loved the water with lemons in it and the sweet biscuits with zesty cream on top.
Nia was a glowing statue and Thomas was red-faced as the men offered their congratulations. I felt better—perhaps from the food—and my heart fluttered every time I saw my friend smile. She beamed and her giggles filled the barn with tender love. Nia was married. I smiled to myself, thankful to have been a part of the strange circumstances.
While the mingling continued, more and more, the men of DarMattey came to find me. They crowded me and asked questions about Aisling, about Maeia and about faeries. They hovered, laughing between themselves as they prodded and queried. They wanted me to smile, to promise to stay in DarMattey, and they asked me to dance. I obliged, hesitantly at first, but soon found joy as I spun to music I’d never heard before. Everyone was laughing and drinking and my heart lifted with the rhythm of songs.
I forgot myself in the moment and lost my balance, falling into the arms of a grinning young man. My face warmed as I thanked him for catching me, then as I twisted my necklace straight, a reminder of Sean flashed across my vision. I saw him smiling and handing me the folded piece of parchment I had taken care to bring with me to DarMattey.
“Our love follows fate.” I heard his vo
ice in my head.
“Sean?”
The men around me stared. No one answered.
I stepped backward, brushing my dress. “I’m sorry,” I told them. “I can’t do this.” I stumbled again, but warm hands caught me before I could fall. When I turned, I saw the familiar eyes of Madeline and her husband.
“Thank you,” I said, wiping my forehead. I turned back to the men, who were disbanding. “You were all very kind, but this is too much for me right now.”
A couple young men smiled back at me, including one who tipped his hat before disappearing into the crowd. I turned back to Madeline and Colin and wiped my brow. The barn suddenly felt hot.
“Are you okay, Rhiannon?” Madeline reached out to hold my hand, but I didn’t accept it.
“No,” I whispered, shaking my head. I felt out of place, like the stranger to this land I was. Had this been another time, at another place, I would have reached an arm around Sean and relied on his strength to make me feel at peace. Sean wasn’t there, and I missed him more than ever.
Colin stepped closer. “Is there something we can do?”
“I don’t think so.”
I looked at Madeline and then into the eyes of her husband. Together, they looked peaceful and happy, and caring. Behind them, Nia spun in place and danced for her admirers. My stomach twisted and my legs weakened. Suddenly, the air was suffocating and foul. I wanted to leave.
“I don’t belong here,” I said, sniffling while fighting an outburst of emotion. “This is difficult for me.”
Madeline grabbed me and pulled me close. She led me to a bench and smothered me with her warmth. “I know it’s not easy,” she said to me. She leaned my head onto her shoulder. “You’ve had a difficult season, and I’m sorry for my part.”
I looked back at her watering eyes. “Your part? You’ve been wonderful to me. There’s nothing you have done to the contrary.”
“I am a faerie,” she whispered. “I was part of the choice to exclude you.”
“I’m not angry about that,” I said, but my voice shook with an unnamed emotion. I wiped my eyes and gazed into hers. “I don’t know what I’m feeling. I want to go home.” I covered my face in my hands and tried not to bawl, but the emotion poured. Madeline was there to comfort me, but despite her warm embrace, my body was trembling.
“Come with us outside,” said Colin.
I couldn’t see him, but knew he was standing over me. Hands lifted me and led me out of the barn. Outside, the air was cool and moist. I lifted my head to absorb a refreshing breath.
“Is that better?” asked Madeline.
My throat constricted, allowing no words to escape, so I nodded. I took another deep breath in an attempt to console myself. “Yes, thank you,” I finally answered. The emotion returned and I leaned over and cried some more.
“You’re going to be all right,” Madeline told me. “Release the pain.” She patted my back.
“I don’t belong here.” My words were calmer than I felt. I wiped my eyes with my palms and stood straight. “I should leave.”
“Why don’t I make arrangements for Jake to take you back to the store?” said Madeline. “Do you want to say goodbye to Nia and Thomas?”
I glared at Madeline, suddenly gripped by an irrational anger.
“You know what I said,” I told her in a low voice. “I didn’t mention the store.”
Madeline stepped back and closer to Colin. “Rhiannon, what has happened? Did something trouble you inside?”
I shook my head and scowled. “I don’t want to stay here another day. It’s too hard for me. I’m going back to Aisling.”
Colin rubbed his hands together and cleared his throat. “It isn’t safe for you there,” he told me. His voice was soft and steady. “You should stay here until the Sun Season Celebration. Allow arrangements to form for your protection.” He stepped toward me and placed a pale hand on my shoulder. “This is an emotional day, and the sorrow of your loss seems to carry you. I’m only asking you to do this,” he said. “No one will force you to stay. We want you to be happy.”
I offered a teary face and a smile to thank him. I respected Colin, and his gesture eased my heart. The man had a way of telling people to do things, and making them think it was their own idea. I had never understood how he did it. For a moment, I regretted my feelings. Standing in the mud, I watched the pain in my friends’ eyes widen to pity. I wanted to cry again.
“I’m going to say goodbye to Nia,” I told them, tucking away my sorrow into a dark corner of my heart. “Then I’m riding home to Aisling.” I stepped toward the barn. Reaching for the door’s long iron handle, I turned back. “Thank you for your kindness. I intend no disrespect, but I don’t belong here.”
Madeline and Colin stood huddled together while I returned to the barn. Inside, the mood was warm and lively; loud voices and laughter echoed from the rafters high above. Many of the people were dancing. Others gossiped and ate. I found Nia and excused her from a conversation with an old woman in a flower dress.
“Thank you,” said Nia, pressing me farther away. “I didn’t know how I was going to escape. That woman would not stop talking.”
“I’m leaving,” I told her. “I came to say goodbye.”
Nia stared at me in disbelief. Then her eyes flashed with regret. “What’s wrong?”
I shook my head. “It’s nothing you’ve done,” I said, forestalling the question I could sense approaching. I grabbed my best friend and squeezed her tight. “I’m happy for you, and I’m glad that I came.”
“Why are you leaving?” Nia wouldn’t release me.
“I’m not myself,” I told her. “I just need some time.” I pulled away and held her hands in mine. “You have a wonderful husband.” I glanced over her shoulder; Sam and his two friends were laughing with a group of young women. “And a good family. You’ll do well in this place.”
“You’re the best friend a person could want,” said Nia, pulling me back to her. “I miss you already.”
“Nia and Rhia,” I whispered. “We’ll be friends forever.” I felt Nia’s head nod.
“Goodbye.”
I cried as I left her, but the moment felt complete; it felt right. I had known Nia since I could ride, since my first journey to the other side of the horse pasture that separated our homes. We had dreamt, played, joked, cried and shared adventures together. There was nothing about me that she didn’t know. Likewise, I knew everything about her. I heaved open the barn door and stepped outside where drizzle continued drowning the day.
I found Maeia and offered her an apple from the back of Jake’s wagon. “Come on, girl,” I said. “Let’s go home.”
~ O ~
Cold rain had seeped under my clothes by the time we reached the center of DarMattey. My hair clung to my face and Maeia’s mane hung flat like a worn rug. Tiny drops fell steadily upon us as we travelled the empty road. Eager to leave this place, I led Maeia past Sianna’s store and up Taylor’s Ridge.
Midday wasn’t long past, but the trees lining the road hung low and darkened everything, lending a twilight feel to the forest. The gray, misting rain had evolved to a black swirling torrent. I couldn’t see and was certain Maeia was struggling as well; she kept slipping in the mud. As I considered returning to the store to wait the night, the sky burst open and lightning struck the mountain somewhere close.
Maeia screamed.
I clung tight to her reins, attempting to calm her, but she wouldn’t have it. She stepped in circles and yanked her head. She was trying to toss me.
“Stop it!” I yelled, scolding her for the first time and pulling hard for her to keep moving. “We’re going home.”
I didn’t know if she heard me; the rain struck the ground in deafening splashes. Leaves, branches and dirt flew in every direction around us. I had never known small rocks to fall from the sky, but it felt as if they were—every drop hammered me unmercifully. I kicked Maeia in the ribs and forced her forward. I was freezing, my knuckl
es were white, but I refused to let go of Maeia’s reigns as we continued up the mountain.
The torrents never ceased and the darkness grew deeper between every lightning strike. When we reached the clearing at the top of the mountain, I stared at the split tree—it was barely visible through the falling sheets of rain—and wondered if a storm like this had caused its wonder. I didn’t marvel long. Aisling was at the bottom of the mountain, though I couldn’t see it, and that’s where I wanted to go.
As we travelled down the mountain, thin whiffs of hickory sifted through the wet air and reminded me of how close we were to home. I could even see faint lights between the trees ahead, coming, no doubt, from warm fires in comfortable village homes.
That’s when I heard the voices. At first I ignored them, slighting the sounds as splashes on stone. But they continued to grow until I couldn’t discount their contrast to the night. I stopped Maeia and stared into the rain. Everything was blurry. I wiped my eyes and squinted for a better view. Somewhere, men were chasing something. Maeia stepped back nervously.
The forest erupted. Maeia leapt back and stood on hindquarters. I squeezed her neck to stay mounted.
“Help me!” A man yelled at me in the dark.
I couldn’t see him; I was trying to stay seated, clinging for my life, but that voice sounded strangely familiar. “Who are you?” I yelled. “I can’t see.”
Someone yanked on Maeia’s reins and my blood froze. I gripped the leather hard enough to make my hands bleed. I wanted to flee, but didn’t know which way to go. I was confused and scared. I had never been so frightened.
“Please, help me.”
Maeia stepped away from the voice. I took her lead and nudged her forward.
“Go, girl,” I said. My voice was shaking. “Take us home.”
As Maeia took charge and thrust us forward, the trees erupted again, this time in several places. Several men shouted and leapt onto the road.
“Come back, bandit,” yelled one of the men. “Rhiannon, get out of here!”
