by Anthea Sharp
* * *
Once night descended, we had no choice but to make camp. In our human form, we couldn’t fly home. I was torn though. I never wanted to be with him for the last time like this.
Dressed in dark blue robes, Olufe and Akin sat by the fire, staring blankly at the flames. They accepted the roasted rabbit the driver offered them but didn’t acknowledge anyone.
“You look lost,” Rhys remarked as he sat next to me. He brushed against my arm and I still felt the warmth through my robe.
I hurt thinking we’d never sit next to each other again. “I’m thinking about the journey tomorrow morning.”
“You’ll be fine,” he assured me.
“No, I won’t.” I lifted my arms weakly. “I can’t fly.”
He shook his head and grasped my hand. The scar from our first encounter still marred his palm. “I’m amazed you three have reached this point. You’ll find a way—together.”
The seriousness in his gaze made me look away. My lips tingled, and I hungered for an action I’d seen countless time in the castle yet never experienced myself.
A kiss, my heart whispered. A true sign of adoration.
“Come with me.” He tugged me to stand then released my hand.
“Why?”
He laughed a bit. “I want one last walk with you.”
We walked through the woods, listening to leaves rustle, the crickets chirp, and the owls call for each other. As we strolled, his hand often brushed against mine until he grasped me. Warmth surged from my toes to my head. I wanted this feeling to last all night. For hope, my name, to mean I could feel this way again back in Wura Peak.
The night retreated as dawn approached. I didn’t want to let him go. My grip tightened on his.
“What if I don’t go with them?” I whispered to him.
“No,” he said with a finality that shook me to my core. “You’re my summer friend, and I’d like for you to be my winter wife, but you don’t belong here, Ireti.”
I shook my head, watching with profound sadness as the sky lightened. “Don’t say that.”
“The army leaves again soon, and you know what will happen to Akin.” Using our clasped hands, he drew me into his arms. His breath warmed my forehead, and my heart soared higher than I ever could fly.
“Take Akin and Olufe home,” he murmured. “Your sister will never leave without you. Do the same.”
“Don’t you want me to stay?” My voice was different. My time was running out.
“So much—but not as much as I want you to be where you were meant to be.” He bent his head down and brushed his lips against mine. Our breaths intermingled, and I quivered against him.
He kissed me. I kissed him back.
But time passed, as it always did. He drew back and held my hand until my five fingers became a bird’s claws. With his free hand, he stroked my hair until bird feathers took its place.
He reluctantly let me go. “Go! Show them the way home.”
I circled Akin and Olufe twice, barely managing to lift myself off the ground. My wings were too weak.
“C’mon!” I tugged at Akin’s tail. “We have to escape north.”
Neither of them would take off until Mrs. Gravesend waved her cane at them. “Stop this foolishness and take your sister home!”
Sensing danger, Olufe grasped me and took off for the sky. She was stronger than our arrival two years ago, but we barely cleared the trees. Akin wasn’t far behind us. He ascended with ease. Olufe and I kept dipping toward the forest before Akin grabbed my other arm and soon we ascended even higher. We were heading home.
But we were going the wrong way.
“Turn left,” I directed them through mindspeak.
“Left... ” Olufe’s whisper was hard to hear, but she finally spoke.
Soon, Wura Peak appeared on the horizon. It was just as I remembered, but another place and another face tugged at me from below.
“Let me go,” I whispered.
Neither of them complied.
“Let me go!” I shouted.
I was never meant to see Wura Peak. I had another home already.
Olufe’s head turned, and her beautiful eyes blazed with determination. “You’ll fall—”
“I already fell. I fell in love.” I brushed my claw against the one she used to hold me. My sister touched her beak to my temple. She released me. Akin did the same.
I fell again, soaring and gliding with confidence, but this time I knew where I needed to go.
* * *
~END~
* * *
AUTHOR’S NOTE
Normally I write about werewolves and other creatures of the night, but I couldn’t resist writing a re-telling of the tale of The Ugly Duckling. We’ve all questioned our place in the world and how we fit based on our imperfections. Following Ireti’s journey was a lot of fun and I loved watching her fall in love. If you enjoyed reading this tale, be sure to please join my mailing list. There are more adventures to come in the future.
* * *
~ Shawntelle
* * *
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The Merrow’s Golden Ring
Sara C. Roethle
Ailios exhaled as the corset strings tightened.
“You’ve gained weight,” Lili, her maid, huffed, giving the strings another tug.
Sighing, Ailios peered at herself in the floor-length mirror. Her raven locks had been piled atop her head in a ridiculous mass of braids and curls. Her sea green dress, though pretty, would soon hide the cruel ribbing of her corset.
No girl should have to be so tortured on her birthday.
Lili pulled up the dress that had been hanging around Ailios’ narrow hips, guiding her arms through each of the long, delicately embroidered sleeves. Ailios’ dark eyes glared back at her in the mirror’s reflection as Lili laced up the back, then turned Ailios around to face her.
Ailios did nothing to hide her glare as she stared down at the plump old woman who’d been her maid since she was thrust into the role of Alderman’s daughter, eighteen years prior.
“Now, now,” Lili chided, pushing a gray lock of hair behind her ear as she looked Ailios up and down, “there’s no reason to be so sour. Most girls only get a cake for their eighteenth birthdays. You get a party with the finest food, and as many dances as you please with the young lords traveling in.”
“It does not please me to dance with any of them,” she hissed.
“Do it anyway,” Lili huffed, fluffing out the skirts of Ailios’ gown, making the tiny gemstones embroidered along the hem scratch across the floorboards. “Your father will be expecting you downstairs shortly.”
Ailios turned back toward the mirror as Lili waddled out of the room, shutting the door behind her. She smoothed her hands down the soft fabric of her dress, then reached toward her hair. With a sigh, she dropped her arms. There was absolutely no fixing the hideous mass of curls. She’d have to spend the entire night looking like a simpering idiot while her father tried to marry her off.
If only she’d been born into a poor, farming family. She was sure sheep would be better conversationalists that those attending her party, and she wouldn’t ever have to wear a corset. Although, farmers likely sold their daughters off to the highest bidders too.
She turned to stare longingly at the pile of books next to her bed, and the dozens of treasures littering the rest of the room: odd stones, twisted roots, and leaves the color of fire. Though the Faie had disappeared long ago, Ailios believed that their magic lingered in the treasures she found in the gardens.
With a final sigh, she trudged out of her room and down the wide set of stairs to the main hall.
Though none of the guests had arrived, the large room was alive with noise and movement. Servants carried trays of food to long tables draped in expensive white fabric. The normally bland wooden walls were now decorated with tapestries collected from all the rooms in the house where guests needn’t venture. The wall-sconce
s all glowed with candles, ready to ward away the darkness that would eventually set in as night fell.
Smelling the roasting boar in the kitchen, Ailios clutched her grumbling stomach. She considered sneaking in to steal a taste, but knew she must plan wisely. Shoving food and drink into her mouth would be her only escape from dancing. It wouldn’t do to fill herself up too soon.
Hearing her father’s voice, she glanced frantically around the room, then hurried toward the gardens. If he caught her before the party, there’d surely be a lecture on proper behavior. She’d learned after the last party that spilling wine on a visiting Alderman’s wife was frowned upon, though it had been worth it to see the look on the prim woman’s face.
She hurried through the propped open wood and iron doors, breathing in an almost overwhelming waft of plants and moisture. Though the sun still shone overhead, it was dampened by thick clouds, casting the gardens in shadow.
Ailios slowed her pace as her slippers squished into the loamy earth, turning at the tall rose trellises toward her favorite hiding place. She didn’t stop walking until she reached the small, babbling brook bordering her father’s property. She crouched by the stream, running her hands through the icy water. The stream reminded her of her mother. They would sit by the brook when Ailios was just a small child, dipping their hands in to pluck out colorful pebbles. Her mother would tell her stories of the Faie, long before the great Faie War.
She shook her head and withdrew her hand from the water. The Faie had long since disappeared from the land, and her mother had been dead for over ten years.
Sighing, she leaned forward again, prepared to redunk her hand, then gasped. A little golden fish was staring up at her.
She leaned closer to the fish, frantically paddling its tiny golden fins to remain in place in the brook. “Where did you come from?” she whispered.
The fish simply stared at her, then turned and began swimming downstream.
Ailios hopped to her feet, rushing after the fish, its small body a shimmering beacon in the water. She followed its course until she reached the stone wall bordering her father’s property. A small arch at its base allowed the stream to pass through, but heavy iron bars blocked passage to anything larger than a fish.
No matter. She hurried further down the wall to where the vines had become overgrown. She hadn’t made the climb in quite some time and was unsure if they’d hold her weight, but she just knew she had to catch that golden fish.
Ailios placed one foot onto the base of the vines. They’d been alive long enough to turn woody and stiff. After testing their strength with her weight, she took a deep breath and thrusted herself toward the top of the wall, clinging at the vines as they wobbled beneath her grasp. Soon enough she was at the top of the wall, not taking time to think before she leapt onto a tree on the other side.
Her fine dress snagged at the branches as she climbed down to the ground, but she barely noticed. The fish had to be far ahead of her now.
She ran back toward the stream, nearly overwhelmed with the sudden feeling of freedom. She wasn’t allowed on this side of the wall by herself. The nearby woods were dangerous, or so she’d been told. Dangerously exciting.
Reaching the stream, she glanced around for the fish.
Her shoulders slumped. There was no flicker of gold to be found. She’d taken too long climbing over the wall, and the fish had left her behind.
She turned her gaze toward the dark woods, a painful longing in her chest. While the shadows cast by the trees were vaguely threatening, something within her compelled her to explore them, it always had.
Something splashed in the water, making her jump. Her hand clutched over her thundering heart, she looked down.
The little golden fish stared up at her.
She blinked down at it. “Do you want me to follow you?” she asked, awestricken and a bit afraid. She’d heard tales of the Faie luring young girls into the forest to meet their deaths . . . She shook her head. The Faie had been gone a long time, longer than she’d been alive.
The fish gave a little splash in the water, then continued its journey downstream.
With a long, trembling breath, Ailios followed.
* * *
“Where in the blazes are you taking me?” Ailios hissed, hurrying after the golden fish.
It had led her deep into the woods, and she was beginning to think she should head back. What had once seemed exciting, now had her trembling with fear. She’d never gone this far into the forest before, not even with an escort, and she hadn’t told anyone where she was going. If she did not return, her father wouldn’t know where to look.
The fish splashed in the water again, as if attempting to draw her attention.
“You better not be leading me to my death,” she growled, then hurried forward as the tiny creature led the way.
Her feet were beginning to ache, and the hem of her dress was now tattered and stained with mud. If the woods didn’t kill her, her father surely would upon her return. No man would want to marry her if he could see her in this state.
“Watch where you’re going!” a man’s voice snapped.
She skidded to a halt. With her gaze intent on the fish, she’d almost run into him sitting right in front of her.
“I’m sorry!” she apologized reflexively, then gasped.
He was no man at all! Well, he was clearly male, judging by his bare broad shoulders and strong jaw, but at the base of said jaw were little slits that almost looked like…gills? His skin was all wrong too. It had an almost greenish tinge to it, contrasting with his dark brown hair. Could he be Faie? He seemed to be around her age, but there was really no telling. Legend had it, the Faie were immortal.
He glared up at her. “It’s rude to stare.”
She took a step back, then another, then her ankle caught on a low root and she toppled to the ground. The fish had been leading her toward her death. No one met with one of the Faie and lived to tell the tale.
She sat up, knowing she should run, but her legs didn’t seem to be working. All she could do was stare at the Faie man before her, her jaw agape.
He continued to glare at her. His eyes were the same color as the ocean, blue, green, and gray all at once, framed by perfectly black lashes. Finally, she managed to tear her gaze from his face to look down at the rest of him.
“Oh!” she exclaimed. “You’re injured!”
His bare feet looked mostly like human feet, except for a fine sheen of scales. More importantly, one was stuck in an iron fox trap, the spiked edge cutting into his flesh.
“It’s none of your concern,” he hissed as she stared at him. He turned his attention to the water where Ailios could see a speck of gold. “You were supposed to bring me someone useful,” the Faie man chided the golden fish.
Ailios watched him, confused. Was he not going to eat her? Cautiously, she climbed to her feet. With his foot in the trap, he wasn’t likely to chase her, but . . . “Why don’t you take it off?” she questioned.
He whipped his gaze to her. There was a fine sheen of scales from his jaw down the sides of his neck too. “Don’t you think if I could remove it, I would? Cold iron dampens Faie magic.”
She tilted her head in confusion. “So why don’t you just depress the springs?”
He stared at her. “Depress the what?”
She sighed and stepped forward, hoping she wouldn’t regret this.
He watched her, his hands cradled near his injured foot protectively.
“You’ll have to move your hands,” she instructed. “I need to step on the springs. They’re too heavy to depress by hand.”
He stared at her a moment, then sat back. If his injured foot caused him pain, he didn’t show it in the slightest.
With a quick prayer to the gods, she awkwardly placed each of her heels on either side of the trap, balancing precariously. The levers went down, depressing the springs. “It should be loose enough for you to open it and pull your foot out now.”
; Confusion in his strange eyes, he did as she bade him, prying open the trap’s jaws before slowly pulling out his foot.
“Now scoot back,” she instructed. “I don’t want it to catch you again when I release it. I’m not heavy enough to depress the springs fully.”
Once he was out of the way, she lifted her skirts and hopped off the trap. While she’d hoped to land gracefully, instead she slipped on the mud near the stream and landed on her behind. One of her slippers launched off her foot and landed near the Faie man who sat observing his injury.
He turned his gaze to her. “Why did you help me?”
Feeling quite the fool with her rump in the mud, she stumbled to her feet then looked down. Her dress was utterly done for. Flicking off as much mud as she could, she replied, “Well I couldn’t very well just leave you.”
He stared up at her. “Why not?”
This man might be Faie, but he was also quite daft. “If you found someone with their foot in a trap in the middle of the woods, would you leave them?”
“If they were human, yes.”
She narrowed his eyes at him. “Well then I suppose the stories I’ve heard about the Faie being a cruel race are all true.”
He blinked at her, at a seeming loss for words.
“Well,” she began, also at a loss for words, “I suppose I’ll be going now.” She knew she should just turn away. Even speaking to one of the Faie was dangerous. Yet, she’d never had much control over her tongue. “But a thank you would be nice,” she added.
He raised a dark brow at her. “Thank you,” he said, but not like he meant it. He was still clutching his bleeding foot, but hadn’t moved to tend it.
She knew she really should turn around and leave…
“Here,” she said stepping toward him, the toes of her one bare foot squishing in the mud. She crouched by his side, then pawed at her white underskirts, searching for the cleanest portion. Finding a strip of the hem that was almost mud free, she tore it. She reached for his foot, then stopped.
