by Sarah Beth
After taking a few gasping breaths, she pushed away from him and stepped away from the water’s edge. How the water could look so beautiful and peaceful filled her with a fleeting anger. Wiping her eyes clear, she found Soryn watching her with concern written all over his face. His shoulders were tense; He had his hands raised to her in surrender and spoke softly this time, “Abby, I’ve been trying to reach you. What happened? What did you see?”
She looked past him and into the trees beyond but it wasn’t a forest that she saw, it was a dark alley with blood running down the drain. A shiver overcame her body as she shook her head violently. Without another word to her concerned friend, Abby left the Glade and headed for her father’s home.
Chapter Twenty-One
Abby
Soryn followed her, just like she knew he would. Although a part of her wanted to be alone, another part didn’t think she could hold herself together if she was. His silent presence was a comfort; the presence of his mind, a light touch on hers. Had it always been there when he was around? Was she always so busy that she didn’t notice? She would need to ask him about it sometime.
Once they stopped in front of the stone facade, Soryn looked at her in question. “What is it that you needed to tell me? And why are we here, at Lord Thaliyunn’s home?”
Looking at the vines growing around the stone, the flowers blanketing the grass around them, Abby sighed. “This is my father’s home.” His silence told her more than his words ever could. She could feel his shock in the air. Chancing a look at him, she tilted her head up and couldn’t help but smile at his open mouth.
“This is — you’re Lord Thaliyunn’s daughter? But then that means — but he’s—.”
Her smile faded, and she looked back at the building before her. “Dead, yeah. And Lady Neirdre knew the whole time whose child I was.”
She wasn’t expecting the hand that appeared on her shoulder, but she didn’t shake it off. He squeezed briefly, before letting his hand drop back to his side. “I am truly sorry, Abby. If I had known…”
A dry laugh escaped her lips, and she looked back at him, “You wouldn’t have said anything.”
His brows pulled tightly together, his eyes searching the building, before he sighed. “Perhaps not...But I may have been less inclined to egg on your wolf.”
She really laughed that time, as she walked closer to the house. “Now we both know that isn’t true.” She heard him walk after her, but as they reached the front steps, she paused. “In the Glade, I saw my father. He told me to find ‘my special room’.”
He came to stand beside her, his face morphing from its earlier shock to concern and sadness. “Abigail, I—.”
Climbing the first two steps up to the porch, she shook her head. “Don’t. There isn’t anything you can say, I didn’t know that would happen. I didn’t even know that was possible.”
Soryn all but snorted, crossing his arms over his chest. “The Lady of the Glade likes to prove the impossible. Questioning that might make you go insane.”
She hummed, glancing past him at the forest beyond. "There’s something else. This isn’t why I wanted to take you away from your students.” He stopped on the step below her, making him almost at her height. “We got word from Alex this morning. They have proof that a Faye is involved with the uprising.”
Steel eyes turned to stone, his lips forming a thin line. His voice felt like a knife, “Do you have any clues as to who it is?”
Shaking her head, she looked to to her right, noticing for the first time a stone bench on the porch. “No, or at least I didn’t, but I have a suspicion, after what the Lady showed me. One I won’t voice just yet.” She had to tread carefully, she knew that much. The Faye she had seen in her vision was no one to mess with. The information she held was dangerous, for both herself and the Faye in question. She had to be careful. She looked back at Soryn, her own brows pulled tight. “I trust you, Soryn. That’s the only reason why you’ve been granted this conversation.”
His face remained just as serious as it had been a moment before, but he raised his right hand to his chest and bowed his head. “I vow to never break that trust.”
She watched his face for a moment before nodding. Turning her back to him, she went to the oak door and pushed it open.
~~~
Walking through the hall the second time felt different to Abby. It wasn’t that she felt unwelcome the first time, but the house felt much more familiar now. Like finding out that she had lived there as a child somehow made the place feel more like home. Whether it had something to do with the ritual her and Wesley had done, or that she was listening more closely this time, the house almost seemed to speak to her. Leading her through the rooms and towards the back of the house.
She knew that Soryn was following behind her, could hear his footsteps on the stone floor. But she wasn’t willing to break the silence that had descended after they entered the house. As she ran her hand along the cool wood surface of the dining room table, she felt a pull inside her chest. Looking out of the room, past Soryn who stood near the door, she knew that the sensation wanted her to continue down the hallway. After a brief glance around the room, she walked in the direction the pull was leading.
It led her past the living room, which she was grateful for. She didn’t feel like looking into her childhood room again just yet. When she reached the bottom of a set of small stone steps, she looked back at Soryn. As quiet as a shadow, he stood with his hands behind his back and a concerned look on his face. She should’ve felt bad for dragging him along on her perusal, but she was honestly thankful that he was there. She wasn’t ready to be alone in the house.
“I’m sorry for just wandering...I just want to check up these stairs quickly.”
Shrugging a shoulder, he gestured in front of her, “It’s alright, I don’t mind. I’ll be right down here.”
Giving him a small smile, she turned and ascended the narrow path as it wound up in a spiral. Realizing that the stairs must lead up to the turret, since the rest of the house was all one floor, made her even more curious. Why would something in the house want her to go up there?
Running her hand along the cool stone of the wall, she was mesmerized as the color of the stone changed. No longer a cool gray, but a warm red morphed before her eyes. And then, with only a few steps remaining, the walls were covered in paintings. Constellations of every kind covered the walls, miniature suns with five points dotted the stars here and there. Blues and purples swirled amongst the stone, making the bright yellow stars and suns stand out even more. It wasn’t until she finally reached the landing that she stopped in her tracks, her mouth hanging open.
It was a small circular room, but the tall pointed ceiling and four glassless windows made it appear so much larger. Intricate rugs covered the floor, blues and purples the main color scheme. Pillows dotted the floor here and there; a small bookcase sat underneath one window and a desk under another. The afternoon sun shone through the most western facing window, making the stars and suns on the walls gleam. The whole room took her breath away, and it saddened her at the same time — how she had ever forgotten such a room was a mystery in itself.
Quietly, as if she was afraid to disturb the room, she walked over to the small desk. Running her hand along the windowsill, she smiled at the two wooden gnomes seated there. They were no bigger than her thumb but were painted in intricate detailing, both with unique facial features. Laying her hand on the desk, its warm red oak seeping into her palm, she got the distinct impression of spending hours sat there. Hours spent drawing and painting, trying to map out the stars like her father did.
With a content sigh, she moved through the room before stopping at the bookshelf. It only came up to her thigh, just shy of of her hip, but it would have been the perfect height for a five-year-old. The sensation was back in her chest, pulling at her. Kneeling down, she looked at the books on the shelf, not at all surprised to see most of them were spell books. But when her eyes landed
on one in particular, with its deep blue binding and gold letters, she reached out and grasped it, pulling it from the shelf.
It was heavier than she expected, but it was the weight that made it comforting. There was just something about the heavy feeling of a book in one’s hands. The letters shined in the sunlight as she ran her fingers over them. They were in the Faye language and she was fleetingly annoyed that Elazar hadn’t thought to teach it to her yet. With gentle fingers she opened the cover, and a folded up note fell out into her lap.
Setting the book on the cushion beside her leg, Abby lifted the note from her skirts. On the front, in an elegant script, was her name. With shaking fingers, her heart pounding inside her chest, she unfolded the old parchment, breaking the wax seal.
My dearest Abigail, I’m sure you have so many questions, ones I wish I could answer.
But if you are reading this letter, then my worst nightmare has come to pass.
I promised I would find you again, although I’m sure you don’t remember that. I’m afraid I must have been too late.
I am so sorry, my dearest child. Sending you away was the only way I could save you from the world into which you were born, but it would appear I failed in that regard, anyway.
Do not be upset with Neirdre, she only did as I requested. I wanted you to have a normal life, Abigail.
Away from magic, danger, and the power struggles of the Faye.
Inside this book you will find more letters, all for your eyes only. I’m sure you’ve often wondered who your mother is and I’ve tried to answer any questions you may have. Just the thought of not being able to answer your questions in person breaks my heart.
I wish our fates had different plans for us.
As I’m sure you’ve questioned why the name you now bare is not the name you were given at birth.
When I put you into safety in the human world, you needed a human name. But now that you have been brought back into the world of magic, by some means or another, you will need the knowledge of your true name unless others wish to control it first.
My dearest Aerilaya, I hope you do not feel ill towards me. I was simply trying to protect my most precious bit of magic.
Look at the back of the book.
With tears running down her cheeks, Abby set the letter down and flipped to the last page of the book. There, carved into the last pages, was a gold chain, three stones hanging from it. Her fingers shook as she pulled the chain from the book and laid it in the palm of her hand. The three stones hung on the bottom semi-circle of the chain — one was red and appeared to have scales inside of it; the center-most stone was a crystalline white; and the third stone was the most beautiful of all. Blues of different shades faded in and out, black cracks in the stone giving a veiny appearance.
All her life she had dreamed and wished to know her parents, always jealous of the children in her foster homes who knew theirs. Even though many kids came from situations she was grateful to never experience, the jealousy was still there. And now she was given the information that she had been wishing for all of her life and she didn’t know how to make sense of her feelings.
Sadness, a feeling so bone crushing that it was a miracle she could breathe. Being in the house, reading her father’s words to her, made her feel more alone than she had maybe ever felt. There was anger too. Anger at a man that she barely remembered and yet felt like she’d known him her entire life. No matter how many times people told her he had sent her away for her safety, it would never be okay to her. Yet his words also warmed her heart and being surrounded by the world of her first few years of life made her feel safe. There were so many emotions swirling around in her head, she didn’t know how to sort through them herself.
With the necklace gripped tightly in one hand, and the book pressed against her chest with the other, she stood and left the room.
Soryn stood at the bottom just as he said he would be, but the minute he saw her his face turned concerned. “Abby, are you alright? What happened?” He came up to her, laying his hands on her arms.
She sniffled, unable to help it, and then shrugged out of his touch. “I found a letter from my father.” Shock registered on his face briefly, before his lips pulled down in a frown. Before he could say anything else, she sidestepped him and headed down the hallway. “I need to find Wesley.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Wesley
Sitting in Elazar’s home, the atmosphere was tense. The news from Alex put everyone on edge. A Faye was helping the vampires? Why? And how? Turning away from Elazar and Neirdre, Wesley stood in front of the large window. He wondered where Abby was, if she was okay. A few minutes previously he had felt such a deep sadness fill him that it had taken his breath away. He knew it wasn’t his; he knew it was coming from Abby. He pulled at the feeling, bringing his consciousness closer to her. She was physically safe; she wasn’t in any danger. He could picture the Glade around her, clear as day in his mind. Knowing she was okay — and where she was — had kept in at Elazar’s. He knew that things had been wearing her down, knew that she probably needed a little space to think. She would look for him when she needed him.
But as the door opened, revealing Abby and Soryn, Wesley’s muscles finally relaxed. That is until he saw the expressions on both of their faces. His eyes scanned Abby’s face, noticing that her eyes were red rimmed, and she clutched a book to her chest. He closed the space between them quickly, laying his hands on her shoulders. “Are you okay? What happened?” He felt her sadness swirl around him, but he had no idea what had caused it. Looking behind her, he couldn’t help but glare at the silver haired Faye at her back.
Soryn raised his hands in surrender, “Easy, Wesley, I didn’t do anything. I’ve just been keeping an eye on her.”
“Leave him be, Wes.” Her voice was sharp when she spoke, and her eyes were hard when they looked up at him. “It’s not his fault.”
Before he could say anything more, images flickered in his mind, followed by the intense emotions he could feel in the air between them. The sadness he had felt earlier made sense, then. Her sharp tone was instantly forgiven. He looked down at the book in her hands and squeezed her shoulders. His voice was just above a whisper, “Have you looked through it?”
Her head shook, causing her hair to fall over one shoulder. It was soft against the top of his hand. Lifting his hand, he brushed it back behind her ear and laid his hand at the base of her neck. Her eyes were stormy, mirroring the emotions rolling off of her in waves, but she said nothing more. She didn’t need to — Wesley knew what she wanted. She wanted to be alone, away from everyone else. Except him.
Looking behind him, Elazar and Neidre were watching them. Saying nothing, Elazar inclined his head. Feeling more grateful to the Faye than he had in a while, Wesley nodded back. Steering Abby past Soryn, he led her back out the door and down the tree. Only when they reached the bottom did he take her hand, and she pulled him in the direction she wanted to go. It was the opposite way to their suite, but he figured he knew where she was heading.
When the Glade came into view, the sun was sitting lower in the West, only a few more hours were left to daylight. It cast shadows in the Glade that hadn’t been there the last time Wesley had stepped into it. It was almost like the Glade was mirroring his Mate’s emotions. But Abby seemed unconcerned as she walked to the edge of the water and sat down, the book in her lap. A brief sigh escaped his lips before he joined her, sitting close enough that their knees brushed. After the images she had shared with him, he was shocked that she had wanted to come back here. But then perhaps he shouldn’t have been — this glade connected her to her father.
He watched her run her fingers over the gold lettering on the cover, before flipping open the cover. There, folded up hastily, was a letter with her name on it. “Abby, you don’t have to—.”
She cut him off, laying the letter in his hand. When she looked up at him, her eyes were resolute. “Yes, I do. Please.”
He looked at her f
or a minute longer before nodding, carefully unfolding the parchment-paper to read the words from her dead father. He was surprised by how much emotion could be present in a letter, and he was even more surprised by the spark of anger he felt towards a man he would never meet. He agreed that there must have been another way. Sending your only child away felt cruel. But then, if he hadn’t sent Abby away, Wesley may never have found her.
When he looked back at her, she was playing with a necklace in her lap. A gold chain and three stones glimmered in the afternoon light. Not knowing what to say, he decided not to say anything but join his feelings with her own. Her mind was more open to him than he ever remembered it being. Maybe it had something to do with the ritual they had done with Elazar, but whatever the case, he was glad for it. Their minds met like a warm embrace, holding each other close and offering the other comfort. A small smile grew on her lips as her fingers touched one of the stones.
“I wonder what they mean.” His voice sounded loud in the Glade, where the only noise came from the bubbling waterfall and the occasional croak of a frog.
She hummed, holding the necklace up so it caught the fading light better. “I thought the same thing. They’re all so different, they must have different meanings or uses.”
Looking at the book in her lap, he slipped the letter back into the cover. “I wonder if the answers are in the book.”
“Maybe.”
She looked out over the water, her fingers still touching the necklace. When he reached out for her mind again, it had wandered outside of the Glade and back to her father’s house, back to the room where she had found the book. With gentle hands, he laid one on her knee and used the other one to brush some stray hair behind her ear. A sigh escaped her lips, and she leaned into his hand.
