by Jamie Day
I cried again when I saw where my home had once stood. There was nothing left. The barn was standing, partially covered by tall trees. The stable was there. More homes on the south side of the road had also burned.
“I’ve never been up here,” said Darian. He wandered casually through the long grass, gazing in each direction. “This is quite a view.”
“If you enjoy what you’re looking at.” I wiped my eyes with my sleeve. The flames of the solstice had been cruel to Aisling. “Then I suppose it’s a good place to watch from.”
“This road? Does it go through your village?”
I nodded and pointed. “It connects Aisling with DarMattey. We’ll need to go there once we decide to get your emerald.” Too late I tried to stop my words, but they had already slipped out. I had said too much.
“What did you say?” Darian ran to face me. “Where is my crystal?”
“I misspoke,” I answered, angry at the weakness of my deception.
He grabbed me by the shoulders. “You know where it is.” He pointed at the road. “Does that take me there? Why didn’t you tell me you knew where it was?”
“I needed your help,” I admitted.
“What have you been doing?” Darian radiated fury. “Lying to me, so I would help you?” He stomped toward the road. “When all along, you knew what I needed to return home?” He turned back and pointed again. “You were keeping me hostage, trapping me so that I would help you find your precious scrolls.”
“We never found the scrolls,” I yelled back, reacting to his anger. I was angry, but not with him—not exactly. The words flew out so fast that I couldn’t keep up with my own thoughts. “You never helped me.”
“Never helped you? What have I been doing? Were you going to drag me with you like a pet until you got what you wanted? When were you going to tell me you knew where the emerald was?”
“I wasn’t—I don’t know!” I screamed so loud that birds fled a nearby tree.
“Yes, you do,” he said, turning toward the road. “You weren’t planning to help me. I’ve caught you in your lie and there’s nothing you can say now.” He kicked a rock, sending it straight into the trunk of a pine, and stomped toward DarMattey. “I know the reason you’re not a faerie anymore. You can’t be trusted.”
His words goaded me past endurance, and my hand flew on its own volition. The slap made a satisfying retort. “Don’t ever say that. You don’t know what I’ve been through. You don’t know!” I raised my hand to strike him again, but he stopped it mid-swing in an unbreakable grip.
I pointed toward Aisling. “My home is there, burnt to the ground. Didn’t you see it? My fiancé is dead, buried in Evermore. I lost everything—everything! Now, my family is in danger.”
Still gripping my wrist, he asked, “What about my family? You’ve kept me from them. You’re the villain. You call yourself innocent, but your hands are red like the dress you’re wearing. I’m following this trail and I’ll find my emerald.” He released my arm as if revolted. Turning around, he kicked another rock with a sudden violence, and began walking toward DarMattey.
“You don’t know where to look,” I called after him.
“I don’t care.”
“That town is more dangerous than Aisling.”
“I’ll be safe from you.” He kept walking.
I stood like an awkward sapling in the center of the road. I didn’t belong there. It seemed no one wanted me. I was useless, a nobody; rejected by my village, chased by my enemies, and left alone by my only friend.
“Please help me,” I said, barely above a whisper. “I promise I’ll tell you everything.”
“Your promises aren’t worth the breath you’re stealing.”
“No.” I ran to Darian, frantic. “No,” I told him. “Don’t say that.” I grabbed one of his hands and held it in mine. “I wasn’t trying to deceive you. I didn’t know about the emerald. Well yes, I knew about it, but—” I squeezed his hand. “—I’m saying this all wrong. Please, give me a moment to tell you.”
“You wouldn’t help me.”
“No,” I said, pulling Darian closer to me. “I was going to tell you.” I stopped talking and took a long breath while collecting my thoughts. “I know where the emerald is because a friend of mine found it. We didn’t know it belonged to you.”
“I’ll listen if you’ll stop squeezing my hand.”
I released my grip. “I’m sorry. I don’t want you to go. Please, don’t go.”
“Tell me where the emerald is.”
“It’s in DarMattey. My friend sold it to a man there. She didn’t know either. We both didn’t know it belonged to you.”
Darian pointed down the trail. “DarMattey? That’s the town at the end of this road?”
I nodded. “I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to leave.” I grabbed his hand again. “I still don’t want you to leave.”
“I need the emerald to get back home.”
I didn’t understand what he meant, but I nodded again to show my agreement. “Where is your home?”
“Far away,” he answered. “It’s a place you can’t reach without magic—magic that’s in the stone I lost.”
“Magic?”
Darian nodded.
“I’ll take you there to get the emerald.”
“Is that your horse?”
I smiled as Maeia nudged the back of my neck with her nose. “This is Maeia,” I told him. “Would you like to ride her to DarMattey?”
Shattered
Dry air and dust clung to my lips as we rode Maeia down the mountain. I squinted to see—an effect from cave life—and when a bright flash of sunlight met my eyes, I winced and covered my face with my hand. The heat affected Maeia, too. She ducked under the shade of a tree and stopped walking. There, a thin breeze enveloped us like a soft flower petal.
“Is that the place?” asked Darian, sliding down from his place behind me. They were the first words he’d spoken since our argument at the top of the ridge. He pointed at the square buildings in the distance.
“Yes,” I answered, scratching my throat with the word. “That’s DarMattey.”
We walked the rest of the hill and when we reached Sianna’s store, I led Maeia to the shaded corral on the east side. She buried her face in the trough of water and lapped up deserved refreshment. I felt like joining her, but returned to Darian at the front of the building.
He had leapt onto the promenade. “Is the emerald inside?” he asked, peering against the window.
“No, these are friends of mine. I stayed with them for a few days after—”
“After what?” Darian jumped to the road, spilling dust in a cloud around him.
I shook my head. I didn’t want to tell him that I was sent here to escape from him. “I’m certain we can get food inside,” I told him, trying to avoid the question. “And there’s a river out back. It’s good water. Aisling is on the other side.”
“Really?” Darian peered around the corner of the building and stared at the trees. “I can’t hear it.”
“You have to walk a while,” I explained. “There are cliffs and waterfalls. From there, you can climb straight into my village.” My heart smiled as I told him. Watching him react to my words was a pleasant change. The journey down Taylor’s Ridge had felt so lonely. “The old ones talk about a bridge that used to cross the river. An ancient storm tore it away.”
“A bridge?” Darian was still watching the woods.
“It’s not there anymore.”
He dusted his pants and flashed a grin. “It’s good to hear your voice again.”
“When I’m not yelling?”
Darian shrugged. He reached for my hand and led me along the road. “Where can we find the emerald?”
I smiled at his reconciling words; my cheeks felt warm and tight. As I followed him my steps barely reached the dirt. “It’s at the end of town,” I said. I allowed my hand to sway with his.
Though hungry, parched, and tired, I
was filled with contentment as we wandered through the crowded road. Nothing could ruin the moment. Nothing—except for the three men who stepped in front of us.
“Welcome back, faerie,” said the tallest one.
Whatever smile I had left me with a shiver. I nudged Darian toward the opposite side of the road. “Come on,” I told him. “This way.”
“Hey, where are you going?” The middle man moved to block us. He sneered at Darian. “Here for a lover’s walk through town?”
“Leave us alone,” I said. I released Darian’s hand and clenched both fists in anger.
The man held his arm out while the two others stepped behind us. I shot frantic glances around us, wary of their intentions.
“What do you want?” Darian’s voice lost its comforting tone.
“We’ve no business with you, stranger,” said the largest one. “Leave your girlfriend with us. We’ll take care of her.” The laugh at the end of his words was sharp and twisted.
“If you have business with her, then you have business with me.” Darian turned to me. “Who are these men?”
“They’re trouble,” I answered. My voice shook. “Let’s go.”
Someone grabbed my dress from behind. Once there was a time when I would have cowed before these bullies. But after being captured, burned out of house and home, and living like an exile in a cave, I was no longer that timid, quiet girl. Swatting the hand away with ferocity that even surprised me, I turned to confront the bully.
As I turned, the fighting started. With a flash of blue, Darian dodged a blow from the middle man and elbowed him in the back, knocking the man to the dirt. Darian spun to face me and caught a large fist in the back of his head. It happened so fast, my cry of warning still rang in the dusty air as Darian fell forward, on top of the man he had elbowed. That man stood and threw Darian to the dirt. Someone grabbed my arms, holding them back, squeezing the life from them. I struggled furiously, but couldn’t break free.
A kick into the dirt snapped Darian’s head back. Blood and filth covered his jaw. He rolled on the ground. The tall man stomped toward him, but jumped back when Darian scrambled to his feet. Through the dust, Darian pointed the end of the blade my father had given us.
“Leave us alone,” he said, stabbing the air between him and the men.
The man squeezed my arms tighter. I responded by snapping my head backwards, and was gratified to hear a grunt of pain.
“Afraid of a fair fight, eh,” said the taller man. He reached toward Darian, then flinched back to cradle his hand.
“I’ll do what I need to get home,” said Darian, snarling as he took another swing with the blade. “Let her go.”
“What’s going on?” Through the cloud of dust, the wagon maker stepped forward. “What’s this trouble?”
As my arms dropped free, I rushed to him. “Thank you, sir,” I said.
“It’s a fight, Wayne,” said the taller one. “He threatened us with a knife.”
“I see it’s a fight.” Wayne glared at Darian. “Who are you?”
“I’m Darian.”
“He’s my friend.” I squeezed Wayne’s arm. “They started the trouble.” I pointed at the three men. “We’re going to see Oscar Schill.”
Wayne grabbed Darian’s hand and snatched the knife in one motion. “Get this thing out of the street,” he said. “You’re gonna hurt someone.” He shoved Darian forward.
“Sir, please?” I tried begging.
“Both of you, go to your business if it’s here, and then leave with your troubles.”
“We tried to stop them,” said one of our attackers. “They wouldn’t listen.”
“You drunks get out of the sun,” said Wayne. “And go soak in the tavern some more.” He stomped toward his shop and took my knife with him.
“Let’s go,” I whispered to Darian, pulling him as he wiped his chin.
“Who is that?”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“Who were those men?”
“Don’t worry.” I shoved him again.
Darian stopped walking. His face was strewn, bloody, and awful. He wiped it with his sleeve, but only smeared the red more. “This place is worse than Aisling,” he said. “How did my emerald end up here?”
“It’s a long story,” I said.
“How far is the walk?”
While we walked to the end of DarMattey, I told him about Nia. I told him about her wedding, my visit there, and the little shop of glass. Darian listened, but seemed more interested in his cut lip than my words. I offered to wipe his face clean, but he refused. I didn’t finish my story, because sooner than I had expected, we stood in front of Oscar’s shop and the brilliance of his windows.
I tugged on the door handle. Locked. My heart stopped beating.
“What’s wrong?” Darian tried the door. “Oh.” His word sank with his countenance.
“I’m sorry,” I said, gasping to breathe. “I thought he’d be here.”
Pressing his face against the glass window, he peered inside. “Who?”
“The little man. He’s the one who showed me the emerald. It was in there.” I stepped from the porch and sat on the promenade. Out of ideas, I covered my face and allowed the exhaustion of the day to reach me.
The glass on the door rattled. When I looked up, Darian was tugging and pulling as if trying to break the lock. Flashes of reflected sun bounced and jarred in every direction, but the door held.
“You’ll break the door if you do that,” I told him, shying back in fear of breaking glass.
“That’s the idea.” He yanked the handle again.
“Don’t shake it that hard.” I leapt onto the porch and grabbed his arm. “We’ll find a way inside. Perhaps Oscar is away for the afternoon.”
Darian shoved my arm away and glared a reproach that made me cower back toward the road. “I’m this close to home and no piece of glass is going hold me back.” He retreated, chose a large round stone from the center of the road, and aimed the rock high.
“No!” I grabbed his arm again as he drew it back to throw. “The shop is beautiful inside. Don’t ruin it.” I pulled on his shirt, prying his face toward me so he could see my pain. “I’ll help you,” I pleaded, “We’ll get inside. Please don’t break the glass.”
Without looking at me, he dropped the stone and rushed to the door. “Someone’s in there.” He pounded the glass with his fist. “Hey! Hey, let us in.”
I wiped my eyes and squinted to see. The reflection was still too bright. The room was dark and hidden, but I saw a shadow cross.
“Oscar.” I jumped onto the porch and pressed my face against the window. “Oscar, it’s me, Rhiannon.” I smiled and waved, trying to catch his attention.
The little man grinned at me before hobbling to the door. “Just a moment,” he said, his words muffled through the glass. He fumbled with a key. “Just a moment.” Then he caught sight of Darian and stepped back. Eyes wide and mouth gaping, Oscar tucked the key back into a vest pocket.
“Let me talk to him.” I nudged Darian from the glass. “Oscar, it’s okay,” I said. “Please let us inside.”
After a brief hesitation, Oscar took the key back out and unlocked the door with a mechanical click.
“My girl, how are you?” Oscar took my hand and motioned to his store. “It’s such a pleasure to see you again. Please come inside.” As I stepped past him, he bowed to Darian. “How are you this fine day, sir?”
I smiled as Darian paused.
“I’m getting better,” he answered. “Thank you.”
Oscar’s store wasn’t dark or dim—it was brilliant and magical. Colors danced in the air while a tiny chime whispered a high-pitched song that bounced off the glass and never ended. I didn’t want to talk, or breathe, or disturb the perfection that dwelt inside this exceptional place.
“Oscar,” I finally asked, “do you remember the emerald you showed me?”
“Oh yes, of course. Have you come to make a trade?”
“Trade?” Darian turned back to me.
“Yes,” answered Oscar. “I deal with rare beauty. What have you to offer me?”
“I—I don’t have anything.” Darian stepped between us and glared at the man. “Where is my key?”
“Your key?” Oscar stumbled against the case at the rear of his store. “I’m confused.”
“You told me it would be here,” said Darian back to me. There was a fire in his face that I had never seen before. He turned back to Oscar. “I’ve come for my—” He shoved Oscar to the floor and clawed at the glass case with his fingers. “Open this,” he demanded. He pounded the glass with a fist. “Open it.”
“I won’t,” said Oscar. He clung to my waist and cowered behind me. “You’ll not take anything without paying, sir.”
Darian was frantic. He flung his arms and threw himself at the case, in vain. The glass was too strong. “Is there an arrangement we can make, sir?” he asked. “I need that emerald.”
“Go,” said Oscar. He pushed me toward the door. “There will be no trade today. Please leave.”
“I’m not leaving without my key.”
“Calm down.” I pressed my hands against Darian, trying to hold back the anger from each bulge of his chest. “Perhaps there’s another option.”
“No, I’m sorry, Rhiannon,” insisted Oscar. He remained against the case, guarding us from its view. “You must leave now.”
“But sir?”
“Please?” asked Darian. “I’ve nothing to trade today. That emerald.” He pointed past Oscar. “It belongs to me. I need it. You must understand that I need it.”
“No!” Oscar’s face turned as red as a berry and appeared to expand with anger. “I paid for this. If you have something to trade, then I may consider your offer. Otherwise, leave my store now.”
Darian moved me aside. “I have nothing.” He took a deep breath. “Will you give me my key?”
“Leave now.”
“Come on, Rhiannon.” Releasing a sigh that exposed dejection I had never seen in him, Darian took my hand and turned to leave, but stopped as shadows covered the road outside the store.
The three men from our fight glared from the other side of the windows. One of them grinned at us before launching a giant rock at the store. I ducked and my ears popped as a million shards of light split the air and screamed toward us.
