by Carol Oates
Please don’t be mad.”
“It was you?”
She smiled again. This time I couldn’t speak to thank her. Tears streamed down my cheeks, and I wrapped my arms around my best friend.
“Stop that.” She sniffled into my hair. “I can’t send you back to Regan crying.”
I moved back, still holding on to her. Sally brushed my hair away and wiped my tears. She was crying just as much.
“Send?” I asked when her words dawned on me. “You aren’t coming?”
She pursed her lips, and her eyes darted around. “I like it here. I was thinking I might stick around. I have family here. I cast a spell and they think I’m their daughter. I’d like to keep it that way. Besides, someone needs to stay here and cover your tracks. You are needed elsewhere.”
I nodded. “Will you keep an eye on my dad too?”
“Of course.” She embraced me again. “Time to go. Your prince is waiting, and you have a coronation ceremony to get to. Your people have waited sixteen years to crown the new Summer Queen.”
I nodded again, and we both stood before it struck me that I really didn’t know how to get to Regan. I turned to Sally in question. “What do I do? I don’t —”
“It’s all right. You should be able to travel now. Just think of him, and you’ll get there.” She paused and took my hand. “You will make a wonderful queen. It should be coming back quickly now.”
It was. I had all these new memories of another lifetime, a hundred years of a lifetime with Regan. The thought was accompanied by a rush of overwhelming love: the love of the girl I was before, strengthened by who I was now. Suddenly, I couldn’t wait to get back to him.
“Close your eyes.” Sally placed her hand over my eyes and drew it downward, closing my eyelids.
A moment later, I opened my eyes again in a different place after a much smoother ride. It was a wood of sorts, but not like anything I had seen in sixteen years. Birds chirped excitedly, and huge ferns unfurled as if welcoming me. I chuckled, remembering how I used to think of the uncurled plants as faery walking sticks. Bluebells tinkled out a happy tune. The ground was covered in a thick layer of moss that cushioned my tender feet like velvet, and the sun’s rays caught glistening stones on the ground as if it had been sprinkled with colored glitter. This was my home.
I followed the sound of lapping water to the lakeside where I knew I would find him waiting, and I emerged from the trees into blinding sunlight. I blinked several times and shielded my eyes with my hand. He was there, just as I knew he would be, standing by the sparkling topaz water in the shade of an old tree that reached out over the lake, still wearing the dirtied undershirt and trousers I had last seen him in. His healthy pallor had returned, although his shoulders were stiff and his head lowered toward the ground.
“Regan?” I called.
His head shot up, but he didn’t turn. It was almost as though he was afraid he had imagined my voice. I continued toward him and watched his fist clench by his side until he let out a long sigh of relief just as I reached him and slid my hand into his.
“I am home,” I said quietly.
About the author
Carol was introduced to the world of supernatural books when, as a child, her family moved to a coastal suburb of north Dublin known as Clontarf; famous as the birthplace of Bram Stoker, the prolific author responsible for breathing life into the legendary story of “Dracula.” This stirred in Carol an early passion for reading about all things supernatural. When that passion was combined with a deep interest in the history and folklore of Ireland, as well as an active and vivid imagination, Carol Oates, the author, was born. Carol’s love of writing about anything not entirely “human” emerged.
CarolOates.com
Other titles by Carol Oates
Shades of Atlantis
Ember
Iridescent(Ember #2)
Unfinished