Rising Silver Mist

by Olivia Wildenstein

  “’Scuse me!” came a voice.

  “On it,” Cass said, swinging through the door to serve the customer.

  I tied the purple apron with the gold comet and star logo around my waist, then looped the scarf back around my neck. “Congrats. By the way.” I gestured to her belly.

  She blushed, and the freckles dusting her nose darkened. “Don’t bother trying to be nice. I know you don’t like me.”

  I was taken aback. “I honestly meant it. We might not be good friends—friends at all—but that doesn’t mean my feelings extend to the innocent life inside your stomach.”

  Faith pushed her hair back. “Aren’t you a doctor-in-training?”

  I frowned. Was she going to ask me to deliver her baby? “I am but—”

  “Let me share a little something with you that I learned five months ago. Babies don’t grow in stomachs. They grow in uteruses.”

  I almost laughed. Actually, that was a lie. I laughed. Doubled-over. And it wasn’t even that funny.

  Faith’s resting bitch face contorted with a brisk smile that stayed as she unknotted her apron and grabbed her coat and handbag. Before leaving, she said, “You can keep the tips for yourself.”

  That may have seemed like a small thing, but for Faith, letting me keep anything of value was an extreme concession. Like Mr. Hamilton, she wasn’t generous, even though, unlike Mr. Hamilton, she was raised with money.

  Her daddy had been a wealthy man. Maybe because he was a faerie. All faeries seemed well-off. As I joined Cass in the bustling bakery, I wondered about Faith’s father. I wondered if he was still alive. I wondered if he lived in Neverra.

  When customers trickled out and it became relatively quiet, I asked Cass about him. “What was his name?”

  “Peter.”

  “Do you have a picture?”

  “There’s one in the employee bathroom.”

  “In the bathroom?”

  “Yeah.” She aligned the remaining cupcakes. “Behind the toilet paper rolls.”

  “Seriously? That’s where she keeps his picture?”

  “Well, he did break Stella’s heart.”

  Would Ace shove my picture in his bathroom cabinet? Did he even have a picture of me? Knowing him, if he did, he’d probably burn it. The next time I went to the bathroom, I checked the closed cupboard, and sure enough, slotted behind the black rubber plunger, was the portrait of a man with a tanned, oval face covered in stubble, a nose as thin as a bread knife, spiky brown hair, and hazel eyes. Somewhat handsome, but severe looking.

  I snapped a picture of him. Faeries had a file on me. Only normal to start a file on them, gain a bit of leverage. Especially now that I’d burned my bridges with the only faerie who’d liked me.

  Watch out, world, Catori Price is finally getting smarter.

  Or my sanity was fraying at the edges. That was a real possibility too.

  16

  The Tabloid

  Helping out at Astra’s Bakery turned into a part-time gig. Not because Faith thought I was a particularly gifted waitress, but because her doctor had put her on bed rest, and I was available.

  Fueled by pent-up energy and rising guilt, I worked more hours than I was paid, baking up a storm in the adjoining kitchen. My confections weren’t half as pretty as Astra’s used to be, but since I borrowed her recipes, they turned out equally tasty.

  Weekends were craziest, but Faith, who kept grumbling that her mother was totally irresponsible, hired a second waitress. Once I’d gotten the hang of the register and dealing with customers, working at the bakery became a pleasant break in my days. Another plus: it got me out of the house where Dad and Milly talked cadavers and wakes. Luckily, the dead weren’t dear friends or extended family. Sadly, business had picked up. Two funeral houses had closed down in the neighboring towns, which funneled work into Rowan.

  On my days off, I would meet Kajika at the barn to train. The weather warmed and the days lengthened, so I took to running every day. Sometimes I would wake up before dawn and hit the forest; sometimes I would run after work, up and down the sunset-streaked beach. My body grew stronger. Sinewy muscles rounded and curved beneath my skin that took on a copper hue. The only part of me not developing was my mind. However hard Kajika made me work on it, I couldn’t access whatever part of my brain manipulated water. A gift I’d never coveted became a source of great frustration.

  On the upside, it comforted me that I hadn’t flipped and become a huntress. I wasn’t sure what I was anymore. Worse, I wasn’t sure what I wanted to be. I’d come to terms with the fact that I was different, not completely human. The tattoo wreathing my neck reaffirmed this on a daily basis.

  I’d stopped wearing scarves when a heatwave coursed over Michigan, toasting the long strip of white sandy beach and heating the top of the lake. My tattoo had caused quite a stir in our small town. For a couple days, that’s all anyone talked about, but then high school prom happened, and streamers and corsages replaced talk of my inked neck.

  Did I mention that no faerie visited? None. Zero. Zilch. Perhaps they were flitting around other parts of America. Or maybe they were sunning themselves in Europe. Didn’t everyone go to Europe in the spring?

  “Want another slice?” I asked Faith, who was flipping through a tabloid in one corner of the bakery.

  Without looking up, she said, “Do I look like I need another slice?”

  “You’re pregnant, Faith. Not fat.”

  She squinted suspiciously up at me, then flipped the magazine closed and laid her hands on top of the cover, lacing her fingers together. “Why are you still here?”

  I bit my tongue to block a sour comeback. I didn’t want to lose this job. Working, along with my grueling workouts and nightly Netflix marathons with my father, were the only things keeping me from thinking about Ace and how much I missed him. “Sorry.” I slid her empty plate on my tray and turned.

  “Catori.” Faith’s voice was so sharp it had me spinning around. “I asked you a question.”

  “And I’m answering proactively.”

  “I didn’t mean right now. I meant, why are you still working here? Why aren’t you interning in a hospital?”

  Oh.

  I must’ve stood gaping a long time, because Faith rolled her eyes. “I might be a bitch, but I’m not that bitchy.”

  I pressed my lips closed.

  “Am I?”

  Instead of answering, I said, “I’m only in my second year of college. No hospital would give me an internship.”

  Faith stroked her expanding belly like bearded men stroked their facial hair. After long seconds, she paused, but kept her palm on her swollen abdomen. “The doctor said I could come off bed rest and start working again.”

  My stomach filled with ice. I wanted to say, I need this job. Don’t fire me. I’ll work for free. But all of that sounded pitiful and desperate, so I nibbled on the inside of my cheek instead.

  “So…” she continued.

  My heart banged. My brand burned. “So you don’t want me here anymore?”

  Even though Faith’s gaze was leveled on my hand, it seemed elsewhere. “So if you want to do something else, Catori, you can do something else.”

  “I’m happy to stay on.”

  One of her eyebrows jerked up. “Really?”

  I nodded.

  “Well, I guess…until Mom comes back, I could use you.”

  My stomach clenched as though a faerie were claiming a bargain. But there was no faerie and no bargain, just guilt. Heaps of it.

  “Sounds fair.” I took the rag off my platter, scrubbed at a coffee stain on the long communal table, then repositioned the little pots filled with lavender and teal succulents. “Do you miss her?”

  “Missing someone who doesn’t care about you is a waste of energy.” She rubbed her stomach again. “I know everyone thinks I’ll suck as a mom, but I plan on being there for my little girl.”

  “You’re having a girl?”

  She nodded, a dreaminess ente
ring her expression, softening the never-bending line of her mouth. In all the years I’d known Faith, this was the first time I didn’t regret saving her from choking on a piece of meat back in junior high. Maybe Faith had a good side. Maybe—

  “In case you didn’t hear…” She pushed the magazine toward me and tipped her chin toward it. “It’s a boy.”

  On the cover of the tabloid was a picture of Ace and Angelina.

  I dropped the platter.

  The rag hit the floor wetly. Faith’s plate cracked. Chocolate crumbs rained down over my white sneakers. The bakery turned very quiet, yet my ears buzzed.

  I crouched, grabbed the platter, and tossed the ceramic shards onto it. My heart thumped louder as I remembered Ace helping me clean up the broken shards of my mother’s mug.

  Hands shaking, I gathered the cake crumbs with the rag, then stood back up.

  Faith studied my trembling hands. “You should read the article.”

  “No thank you,” I whispered.

  Before I could walk away, she added, “Sometimes it’s better to be alone than in bad company.”

  I kept my face blank as I sped away, toward the swinging door and into the employee bathroom, where I splashed freezing water against my face. It numbed my eyes, but unfortunately didn’t manage to numb my throbbing heart.

  I closed up late that evening. No one was waiting for me at home, and I had no plans for the rest of the night. Dad had gone fishing with the sheriff, and Cass was celebrating her mother’s birthday.

  As I swept the floor, I thought about what to get Cass for her birthday, which was three days away. Cass loved everything, but I wanted to get her something meaningful instead of a gift certificate at Dillard’s. Even though I was sure she’d be plenty happy with that.

  I hadn’t turned off the radio, and it was playing some sappy love song that made me want to slit my wrist. I gritted my teeth and willed the DJ to play something else…anything else.

  The broom slipped out of my hands when I spotted the magazine Faith had tauntingly left behind. I marched over to it and seized it, ready to shove it into the trash, but once I stood over the garbage, I couldn’t release it anymore.

  So I returned to one of the long tables, took a seat on the bench tucked underneath, and read the article, staring at each picture, committing each detail to memory. It wasn’t so much Ace I was studying, but his fiancée. She was perfect. Large tawny eyes, thick lashes, straight, glossy brown hair. Her skin was flawless and golden. Her body thin. Where Faith was very obviously pregnant, Angelina’s stomach was tight and tiny. Maybe faerie babies didn’t grow the same way as normal babies. Then again, Faith was having a faerie baby, too.

  What bothered me most about the article was the happy picture the reporter painted of the young couple.

  The worst part was that they did seem happy.

  Like the dishrag I’d washed and wrung out, my heart twisted and squeezed. My eyes remained dry, though.

  Finally, once I’d read the article enough times, once I’d flagellated myself long enough with the pictures of the blessed couple, I rolled up the tabloid and stood. I was about to walk it to the garbage when the door of Astra’s jangled.

  I spun around. “We’re clo—” The last syllable froze in my throat. And then the magazine slid out of my fingers and flopped onto the floor like a dead fish.

  17

  New Roommate

  I wasn’t sure how long I stood there in silence, staring at Lily and Ace, but the sun, which had begun dipping below the horizon when I’d started tidying up the bakery, was gone now.

  Another song came on the radio. Peppy. Rhythmic. It wasn’t in English. Or maybe it was.

  Ace had cut his hair. Buzzed it short. It made him look older, tougher. “Cat.”

  My heart skipped at the sound of his voice. “Ace.”

  My brand burned. His palm glowed. He curled his fingers into a tight fist as though to block the sight of the light.

  I nodded to his sister. “Lily.”

  “Is this a bad time?” he said, at the same time I said, “Didn’t think you guys were ever coming back.”

  I breathed in through my nose, out through my mouth. Supposedly that sort of breathing was calming—or so Mom had told me. I didn’t feel any calmer. I did feel more lightheaded, though.

  “Lily needs a place to stay.” Ace’s words were like sharp needles. They pricked my lungs and freed the heady air filling me.

  “The palace ran out of rooms to let?”

  Neither sibling smiled. Not that I was trying to be funny. I was in too much shock for humor.

  “She severed her engagement.”

  Silence bleached the air and effaced the music.

  Lily twisted a lock of blonde hair around her finger. Over and over. The movement was hypnotic.

  “What do you mean…severed her engagement?” Did he mean what I thought he meant? That—

  Ace tipped his head to the side. “She called off her wedding.”

  I gasped. It was soft. Barely audible. I clapped my hand over my mouth.

  Lily’s large gray eyes set on mine, rimmed red but dry.

  “Wow.” I spoke against my hand that smelled of confectioner’s sugar and clammy incredulity.

  Lily dipped her head down, tucking her chin into her slim neck.

  Ace squared his shoulders that seemed to have gotten broader. “Could she live with you?”

  “With me?” I squeaked.

  Lily glanced up, worry—or embarrassment—creasing her brow.

  “Look, I know we seem like we have lots of earthly connections”—he tipped his head to the magazine at my feet, and my cheeks flamed—“but I would trust none of them with my sister.”

  “You’d trust me?”

  “I know, right? Pretty pitiful, considering.”

  I felt the jab of his words and the answering bitterness underneath my ribs. “How long will she be staying?”

  Ace’s blue eyes darkened like rushing storm clouds. He barely parted his lips as he said, “Until her fire burns out. Six months. Maybe more. Maybe less. Depends how long she survives out here.” His voice was so low it scattered goosebumps over my exposed arms. “We’ll pay you of course—”

  “Shut up,” I growled, angry he’d think I required payment. “Of course she can stay with us.”

  A long beat passed.

  Lily raised her face. She signed something to her brother.

  “I know you don’t particularly want to see me, Cat, but I want to visit. Often. Will that be a problem?” There was a challenge in his gaze.

  “No.” I swallowed hard. It would simply kill me to see him every day… “I’m not often home these days anyway.”

  “New job?” He gestured to the bakery.

  I nodded.

  “Working off your guilt?”

  I folded my arms. “Something like that.”

  Lily signed something to him. He signed something back. And then his arms went around her and squeezed her so hard she seemed to vanish inside his body.

  I picked up the broom and scooped up the crumbs with the pail, then grabbed my jacket and switched off the music and the lights. When I reemerged through the swing door, only Lily remained, looking as empty as the large, noiseless, dusky room.

  18

  Changes

  I led Lily into the ground-floor bedroom then asked if she needed anything, but she shook her head. Seeing her empty hands, I went upstairs and gathered a pair of leggings, a T-shirt, a new toothbrush, and toothpaste, then knuckled her closed door. When she opened it, I handed her everything. She signed what I imagined meant thank you. Maybe it meant I need to go shopping. Or perhaps: go away.

  After she vanished back inside her bedroom, I did laundry, then dragged a chair underneath the wind chime and unhooked it, depositing it in a large Ziploc, which I stashed inside a cupboard.

  And then, still rattled by the evening, I watched mind-numbing TV on the couch until Dad arrived, keeping the volume extra low, so I
didn’t disturb my new house guest. Several times, I stared at her door. I wanted to knock, ask her why she’d done it, but deep down I knew her reason: she’d seen the true face of her fiancé and had decided dying was better than marrying him.

  A while later, Dad walked in, jaw ruddy from boating, eyes bright from beer. “Hey, sweetie.” He dropped a kiss on my cheek, then sat beside me and kicked off his shoes.

  “Caught lots of fish?”

  “Tons. We should go out on the lake this weekend.”

  “Sure.” I used to go fishing with Blake all the time. I sighed at the memory. “Dad, we need to talk.” I sat up, muted the TV, then swung my legs over the edge of the couch and angled my torso toward my father.

  His reddish tan vanished. “Are you pregnant?”

  I blinked, surprised that this would be his first thought. “No. Course not. I’m not even seeing anyone.”

  “You’re with Kajika a lot.”

  Dad still thought Kajika was a distant cousin of mine, which made his comment even more bothersome. “Kajika and I are friends. Besides, do you seriously see me having a fling with a cousin? Yuck.”

  His eyes skimmed my tattoo, which he’d blamed on Kajika. “Yeah. I don’t know why I said that.” He draped an arm over the back of the couch. “So what do we need to talk about?”

  “We have a new house guest.”

  “We do?” He pushed away from the backrest and peered at the closed guestroom door. “Is Aylen visiting again?”

  I smiled. Dad loved Aylen like a sister…like an annoying little sister. “No. Not Aylen. Lily Wood.”

  “Lily Wood?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Lily Wood’s moved in with us?”

  “Yeah.”

  A beat. A blink.

  “She had a falling out with her parents.”

  Dad’s eyes crinkled with a pensive frown. “Will Cruz be joining her?”

  “No. Cruz will not be joining her. They broke up.”