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Authors: Jamie McHenry

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BOOK: On Fallen Wings
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I leaned on the chair and allowed my hair to hang back to the ground. “I am impressed,” I teased, yelling back at him. I rested my feet on the edge of the well. “If your cooking is half as good as your boasting, we’ll enjoy a feast, tonight.”

Sean’s laughing followed him inside his house.

“Hello, Rhiannon.”

Startled, I rocked forward.

A short wrinkled man with long white hair, balding at the top in a circle, hobbled toward me. He wore a dirty gray shirt with long sleeves and denim trousers, supported by frayed suspenders that wrapped over his shoulders. Sean’s uncle always dressed strangely.

“Hello, Eldon,” I said, standing to address him.

“No—no, sit down,” he ordered. “Let me pull you a drink.”

“Thank you, sir.” I returned to the chair.

Eldon grabbed the metal handle attached to the overhead housing of the well and began whistling while he cranked it. The long rope around the spinet unraveled to the dark abyss, while the rhythm of his tune matched the pace of his turns.

“What’s the song?” I asked, watching with curiosity.

Eldon stopped turning the handle. “It’s the weep of the departed,” he answered. “A woeful cry offering peace to those left behind.”

“It’s beautiful,” I said. “You could have been a bard.”

Eldon smiled. Then he cranked the handle in the opposite direction. As he turned, he repeated the tune. His music echoed from the surrounding trees. I closed my eyes and allowed the melody to envelop me; its tone was soothing and peaceful. When he stopped, I opened my eyes. The rope revealed a bucket. He poured it into a round metal cup.

“Here you go, beautiful faerie,” he said, offering me the cup.

“Thank you.”

I had always liked Eldon. He was quiet and kind to everyone. Travelers often went out of their way to visit him and accept his offerings. Eldon had been married to a faerie long ago. He told me once that his wife had blessed the well before she died. The Bauer Well had the best water in the village.

As I drank, the cold water replenished my senses and filled me with energy. I allowed the sensation to travel to my fingers and toes before drinking a second time.

“When will you two marry?” asked Eldon. He sat on the edge of the stone well.

“Once we’ve given our required gifts,” I said proudly. “We hope to marry in the spring.”

Eldon nodded his understanding and scratched the bald spot on his head. “What did you demand from my nephew?”

Surprised, I paused before answering. Eldon should have been at the Promise Ceremony. “Were you there,” I asked, “last night?”

“No—no.” Eldon shook his head earnestly. “I never leave the well. It’s too valuable. And—” he paused and looked around “—today, I heard talk of a stranger. A bandit. I won’t allow anyone to come and ruin the water. A good Well Guardian never does.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, “and I’m sad that you missed it. I asked Sean to find me a white horse.”

Eldon gasped. “Is there such a thing?”

“I don’t know,” I answered, shaking my head. “I’ve heard stories. He’ll need to leave the village to find one.”

“You are worth the search, Rhiannon,” Eldon said. He stood and patted my knee lightly. “What did Sean demand?”

“Armor. He asked for some armor.”

“Oh, how exciting.” Eldon hopped up and down like a rabbit. “Will you have it made new for him? Are you going to search for something old?”

I wanted to laugh after watching him dance. “I don’t know,” I said, covering my mouth to avoid rudeness. I sighed and leaned back. “I haven’t thought about it.”

Eldon retook his place on the well ledge and leaned toward me. “Listen to me,” he said, quietly. “The gift of the bride should equal the gift of the groom. If you want the bindings of your marriage to last, you will put as much work into pleasing Sean with your offering, as he will for you.”

“I want to.” I agreed with Eldon, although I hadn’t expected such advice from an old man. Especially, since he was right. Since the ceremony, I had offered less than a moment of thought about my gift for Sean. “What do you suggest?” I asked.

“Find him something from the ancient days,” he answered. “A relic from the wars with Morgan.” Eldon’s eyes were bulging and eager. “For certain, shiny silver will sparkle in the light. How telling is that?” He was whispering again. “I know of a place where you might find a rare piece of history.” He owned my attention; this little man had a gift for that.

I leaned toward him, curious. “Please tell me,” I said. “Where is it?”

“Do you know the forest north of the mountain, next to the lake?”

“Yes,” I answered. “It’s your family land. Sean and I plan to live there when we marry.”

Eldon grinned. “Good for you, Rhiannon. Good for you. Go there and find the cave.” He hobbled back toward his small home.

I fell out of the chair. “Wait!” I yelled. “Don’t leave.” I scrambled to my feet. “What cave? Where is it? Tell me more.”

Eldon shook his head and pointed at Sean before disappearing behind his door.

“I’m ready,” announced Sean. “Where would you like to eat?”

I was piecing together the conversation I had experienced with Eldon when I caught myself ignoring my fiancé. “What?” I asked, blankly.

“Are you okay?” asked Sean. He picked up the metal cup from the dirt and offered it to me. “I asked where you would like to eat.”

“Let’s eat outside,” I said, taking the cup; it was empty. “I need the fresh air.”

Sean was a polite host, and did his best to offer me the conveniences of a home meal while sitting at the well. The day had darkened, and he built a small fire near us that I appreciated for its warmth—I was still wet under my dress. He covered a wooden plate with more vegetables and bread than I was comfortable eating, and was kind enough to remember a cloth napkin with my knife and fork. His hands trembled as he arranged them neatly on the edge of the well.

“Do you like it?” he asked, before I had taken a bite. He leaned close to my face and stared.

The flames from the small fire highlighted his features, and made it impossible to watch the dark forest surrounding us. I shifted my legs nervously while swallowing a soggy beet. He had been eager to impress me and I didn’t want to hurt him, but this food could kill a person.

“I don’t care for it,” I answered, honestly. “I must be used to Mother’s cooking.”

Sean lowered his head. “Yes,” he said, nodding. “I understand.”

Tiny logs in the fire cracked and sputtered, sending red sparks into the air.

I lifted his chin to stare into his eyes. “No, you don’t.” I kissed him, and continued. “I’m marrying you, not my mother.” I shoved my plate aside. “Let me do the cooking when we marry—okay?”

Sean stood and offered both hands to me. “That’s why I love you,” he said, pulling me to my feet. “You’re honest.” Then he stepped back and stared at me. “Plus, you’re beautiful by firelight. The flames add to the color of your hair.”

Blood warmed my cheeks; I knew I was blushing. “Are those the only reasons you want to marry me?”

“No,” Sean answered. “I love everything about you. I couldn’t dream of a better woman. You’re perfect.”

I shrugged. “Leila was right.” I traced a circle in the dirt with one foot.

“About what?”

“I talk in my sleep,” I whispered. “That’s what my family tells me.” I looked at him. “Do you still want to marry me?”

Sean chuckled. “I’m looking forward to finding out.” He stared at my eyes; I loved the way he looked at me. He kissed me on the forehead. “As much as I would like to sit with you forever, we should get you home.”

I smiled and entertained a quick dream of the future, when I wouldn’t have to leave him at the end of an evening. “Yes, my parents will wonder what’s keeping us,” I answered, groaning with disappointment. “I need to rest. The last few days have been exceptionally long.”

Sean draped an arm over me and we left his flickering courtyard, walking casually along the trail toward the village. I sifted his fingers through mine while swinging my arm between us. When we reached the main road, I stopped walking.

“Goodnight,” I whispered, once again imagining the day when I wouldn’t have to leave Sean.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, pulling on my arm and stepping forward. “Don’t you want an escort?”

I released his hand. “I want to walk alone and reflect on my thoughts.” At that moment, I allowed my love to shine through a wide smile. “I’ll be okay,” I told him. “I’m in love with you.”

Sean pulled me close, and caressed my hair in long strokes down my back while we embraced.

When he reached the end, I released him. “Have a good night.” I turned toward the village.

“Dream of the future,” he said. “That’s where I’ll be.”

 

~ O ~

 

The night was dark and the trees loomed over me as I walked through Aisling. A few homes had light in their windows. The air was thin and cool, while the smell of hickory smoke lingered everywhere. Aside from a few barking dogs in the distance, the village was quiet.

Something moved in the bushes next to the road ahead of me and startled a gasp out of me. The back of my neck pricked, and I sensed that I was not alone in the night. I searched the darkness while proceeding cautiously.

I heard the noise again.

I stopped walking and stared at the night, catching mere shadows and distant flickers of light. Something
was
there.

A man rose from the bushes, closer than I had expected anything to be. He walked toward me. His dark, curly hair twisted over his eyes. His smile revealed straight white teeth.

“Are you in need of help?” I asked, taking a cautious step back.

“I appreciate your offer, miss,” said the man, “but I am fine.” His voice was deep and polite, and unusual. This man was a foreigner. “May I ask your name?”

At the calm manner of his voice, some of the tension left my shoulders. The man didn’t seem to be an enemy, although strangers were rare in Aisling, especially at night. I answered cautiously. “Rhiannon. My father is Neal Phillips, the horse trader.”

The man waved an arm, catching moonlight on his sleeve that sparkled in blue. “I’m Darian.” His voice was wonderful. “It’s good to meet you.”

“Are you staying in the village?” I caught myself smiling.

“No,” said Darian. He brushed his hair away from his eyes. “I’m only visiting.”

Curious, I peered around his shoulders at the forest behind him. “What were you doing in the bushes?”

“Oh, I fell. I couldn’t see in the dark.”

His answer made me laugh. “I understand that,” I said to him. “Aisling can be horribly dark at night. You should walk at the center of the road where the moonlight can reach you.”

“Aisling? Is that the name of this place?”

Such a
polite manner. Brilliance and wonder, this man was exceptionally strange. How did he not know the name of our village?

“Yes,” I told him. I started walking again and waved goodbye. “I need to return home, now. Enjoy your visit.”

“Thank you,” said Darian.

I left him standing in the road, but when I turned back for a final look, Darian had already disappeared. The man was strange, and his voice lingered in my head the rest of my journey home.

 

 

Tree Council

 

The Elders held council every week. Father had always claimed its importance to village affairs, while Mother called it an excuse to drink. By contrast, a Fae gathering—outside of a celebration—was a rarity. For two days at each turning of the season, we would gather at Stone Meadow to mingle, dance, learn, or write; otherwise, the twenty-seven of us lived as village life demanded.

Traditions made the Fae strong, just as the changing of the leaves marked every season. We honored nature with our dances and kept the history of Aisling in our stories and words. That was our calling. The Elders gave leadership while the Fae offered blessings, for only faeries could heal. But no rule came to pass in Aisling without consent of the Fae.

A visit to the temple was the most cherished moment that I knew. When invited there, an occasion demanded our attention. Three days after my Day of Promise, I walked across the road between our houses and along the flat stones leading to Madeline’s front door. We were going to the temple for a gathering.

A chilly wind blew past, carrying colorful leaves through the forest. I pulled my shawl tight. Although no warmth came from it, it brought familiar comfort. Her door opened when I arrived and Madeline stood facing me. She was also dressed in her white gown, covered with her golden shawl and hood. Tiny white angel flowers weaved through her braided hair.

“Come inside,” she said, smiling, “you look cold.” Her voice was warm and soft. It reminded me of a songbird on a summer day.

Madeline held out her arms in greeting. With thanks, I accepted her embrace and followed my friend inside. In the warm sitting room at the end of the hall, I chose a seat on her plush pink couch.

BOOK: On Fallen Wings
7.03Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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