Dreams of the Fae: Transcendence

by Anna Patrick Paige

  “What are you doing to my hair?” I squeaked, sitting up.

  Torn petals fell from my head. I ran my hands through my hair, scattering more crumbled foliage across the bedding. I scanned the dark room for a vase but found nothing. The cat stopped licking to watch me, holding her arm in midair as if waiting for a response. My mouth hung open as I searched for words to fit her peculiar behavior. “You remind me of someone I used to know,” I muttered.

  “Aya?” A hanging fur door at the end of the bed cracked open. “Are you awake?” Bromly peeked inside, holding a steaming wooden cup and a thin stick burning red with an ember. He pushed the fur aside just enough to slide into the room. “Oh, sorry.” He grimaced. “I should have asked if you were decent before coming in.”

  “Is she awake?” The top of Flint’s red head bounced behind Bromly’s husky frame. “Aya! We’ve been waitin’ for ya to wake up. Come out! There’s food!”

  “Go sit down and wait,” Bromly sternly instructed and closed the fur. “You’ll have to excuse him. Flint is thrilled to have a girl here. We don’t get a lot of women around these parts . . . none actually.”

  He used the ember to light a single candle on a simple wooden nightstand next to the bed. The room dimly illuminated, revealing a rectangular space only wide enough for two people to stand comfortably. I was lying in a crude narrow bed made from unstripped wood, pushed against the log-paneled wall. The plush covers were sewn from various patches of rabbit fur and tan cotton sheets. Several carved hooks on the left wall held articles of clothing, and above the nightstand hung a sword inside a pristine tawny scabbard.

  “I brought you some tea.” Bromly sat on the end of the bed, as far away from me as he could manage. He had to stretch to hand me the cup. “It’s strong, but it’s good for you. Darric brought me the recipe years ago. It’s a detox, but don’t ask what’s in it. You wouldn’t want to know.”

  I gently blew the steam. It smelled herbal, with strong accents of clover and mint. Bits of tea leaves floated across the surface. I was apprehensive of accepting anything since bandits had forced a foul liquid down my throat. “I don’t think I should—”

  “You’ve already had a lot of it,” he said before I could argue. “We had to do something to counteract the poison. Otherwise, you’d be dead.”

  My lips parted. Poisoned?

  “Darric found you in a cave of thieves who use a slow-acting toxin to pacify their prisoners. It usually metastasizes when food or water hits the system. It weakens the brain, causing insanity and hallucinations. Then it rots the body from the inside out. It’s a cruel and disgusting way to die. You’re lucky.”

  Abbey’s brain had been brutally warped, and the putrid smell of decay had permeated the bandit jail cell. I remembered the intense nausea sweeping over me and weakening every muscle.

  “I’m shocked you followed Darric all this way while intoxicated with it. It’s impressive . . . to say the least.” He shifted awkwardly. “I’m angry he allowed such a thing knowing which cave he released you from.”

  Unsure how to respond, I sipped the tea and waited for the persistent sickness to resurface. The soothingly sweet liquid traveled through my throat, filling my belly and warming my limbs. Relieved to feel no pain, I wanted to gulp down the delicious brew quicker than it would cool. “Thank you,” I muttered, humbled and grateful they had not let their unwelcome guest die. “Thank you for taking care of me.”

  “You’re welcome, but really, I just brewed the tea.” He waved his hand dismissively. “Darric held up your head and made sure you consumed it. It was tedious. He said you would be dead by morning, but he said that every day.”

  “Every day?” I questioned, confused.

  “You’ve been out three days.” He scratched his beard with his thumb.

  My jaw dropped. Would there be soldiers searching the countryside for me? What if they came here? What would they do to these men?

  “You had to sleep off the effects.”

  “I should be lying dead in a river somewhere.” I set the cup on the nightstand. “I have to get out of here before Darric decides to kill me.” Or Alamantia soldiers find this valley. “I don’t want to cause more fighting between the three of you.”

  “Ha!” His brown eyes lit up with a friendly smile. “You heard that, huh?”

  “Some of it . . .”

  “Don’t worry about any of that. We’re brothers . . . well, brothers in theory. We’re made to argue. Empty threats. Hostility. It wouldn’t be like home otherwise, especially when Darric is around.”

  “I shouldn’t have followed him.” Ashamed, I buried my face in my hands.

  “Well, if you hadn’t, you would be dead in a river somewhere. Look, no one is going to take your life. Darric comes off brash, but he means well. He kept Flint out of his room long enough to let you heal. That was a challenge.”

  “His room?” I looked around a second time and recognized several airy white shirts on the hooks. Darric’s gray wool cloak hung closest to the door, and nestled in the corner sat his haversack.

  I yanked the covers off my legs, struggling to untangle myself from the binding furs and my own dress. I wanted out. I had been curled up for three days in the bed of a man I never should have pursued.

  “Take it easy.” Bromly held up his hands, and I kicked the covers into his lap. “You’re not completely well. Darric has the least use for his room. He put you in here.”

  “I have invaded his personal space enough.” I twisted over the mattress and set my feet on the floor, scattering flower bits onto the pelt rug. My shoes were missing.

  Bromly plucked a handful of petal pieces from the bed and examined them suspiciously. “Your cat is strange. She cried and screamed when we refused to let her into the Hovel. Eventually she snuck in. I guess she brought you some flowers.”

  The little burgundy feline jumped onto the nightstand and purred. I rubbed my fists into my eyes. “I’m sorry, what is the Hovel?”

  “Oh, our house,” he explained with pride. “We call it the Hovel. Unoriginal name, but none of us are poets.”

  The longer I sat up, the cloudier my head became. “You’ve been so kind, offering me food and a bed. This was more than I deserved after forcing my company upon you. I cannot stay here any longer.”

  “Flint wants you to stay, and Darric . . . well, he’s already forfeited his room. You’re welcome here for the time being. If you want to leave, Darric will travel again soon. You can accompany him.”

  “I am lost beyond recognition. The minute I disappear with him, how can you guarantee he won’t kill me? I’m not sure I want to be alone with him. Ever. It’s better I head out on my own.” The cat leaped onto the mattress and, for the first time, allowed me to touch the top of her head. She pushed into my palm, accepting the gentle scratch. Her sublime fur felt like baby rabbit fuzz. “I don’t want to test my boundaries with him.”

  “It’s dangerous out there, and you can’t expect to just walk out of here after being unconscious for three days. If you really want to thank us for the hospitality, then you won’t leave until my brother can escort you.”

  I breathed out wearily. Bromly had a point. Leaving meant facing the woods during nightfall. I could end up back in the same situation that brought me here.

  “Anyway, you have an invitation to stay. There’s at least one of us who would be thrilled if you chose to accept it. I assure you that it won’t put us out. This room sits empty most of the time, so it’ll be yours until Darric decides otherwise.” He bent down and tossed over my shoes.

  My boots couldn’t have been removed without detaching Luken’s dagger. Discreetly, I brushed my ankle against the side of the bed and felt the clank of metal against wood. Whoever had taken off my shoes had reapplied the blade. Idiotic that throughout my entire deadly experience with the bandits, I had not once thought to use the weapon. It defeated the purpose if I meant to treat it as an accessory.

  “Well”—he slapped his hands on his thigh
s and stood—“you have to be hungry. I have a piglet cooking on the spit, but for now there’s rabbit stew and roasted potatoes.” He pulled the fur door to the side and tied it to the frame with a rope. Warm orange firelight filled the small bedroom. “I’m glad you made it through, Aya,” he said and left me to put on my shoes.

  Outside Darric’s bedroom was a square living space. A wooden workbench against the right paneled wall was cluttered with knives and tools, whittled scraps, bowls, flatware, and vegetables. Several woven baskets overflowing with a variety of spices and dried meat hung above it. The opposite wall consisted of cavern rock decorated with dozens of animal skulls. At the far end of the room, the entrance door turned out to be two large bear furs sewn back to back, creating a thick layer to hold in heat.

  In the center of the quaint house, a three-foot-wide firepit lined with smooth gray stones warmed a kettle filled with Bromly’s lovely detox tea. Three benches circled the fire, but unlike the rough logs outside, these had been stripped and sanded smooth for indoor living. The low ceiling and rafters were darkened from soot, as not all the smoke escaped through the hole that tapered into a metal chimney.

  A thick layer of dead leaves on the stone floor crunched under my feet. Rugs sewn from a multitude of animal skins spread underneath the benches and at the entrance of every doorway. To my immediate left, two more fur doors led into other bedrooms identical in size to Darric’s. I assumed these belonged to Bromly and Flint.

  The charming Hovel smelled like burning pork, a surprisingly mouthwatering aroma despite the underlying scent of sour animal flesh. A musk also lingered in the air—similar to mold but less unpleasant—coming from the piles of furs in the corners of the room.

  This was a massive operation, and impressive. How could such criminal activity occur without the King’s knowledge? Now I understood why the three were so concerned about me knowing their location. Everything here was death-sentence illegal.

  I glanced into the bedroom I now shared with my stranger (how odd), and a sense of contentment washed over me. A smile grew across my cheeks. I felt home, as if there was no other place in Athera I belonged.

  The cat arched her back and yawned. She rubbed against my leg, and the vibration of her purr went up my thigh. My serenity flowed into her, as did my fear and distress. For whatever reason, the little feline was here to stay.

  The idea of walking out of the Hovel filled me with nervous jitters. The three men would be waiting. I had paraded into court and crowded rooms all my life with hundreds of eyes watching my every step, yet this personal introduction was maddeningly unnerving.

  Swallowing my anxiety, I stepped into the open cavern. The fire crisped the skin of a piglet, while Bromly used a hatchet to turn potatoes buried in the coals.

  Flint sat upon a log eating an apple, the juice dribbling down his pointed chin. When he saw me, his emerald eyes widened to show nearly their full circumference, and he jumped to his feet with glee. “Aya!” He spat bits of fruit into the air, choked momentarily, and cleared his throat. “Welcome to the Hovel.”

  I hesitated. “Thank you.”

  “I see you’re not dead. Not sure how I feel about that.” Darric walked around from the back of the house, holding a knife in one hand and the carcass of a rabbit in the other. His bracers were coated in spattered blood, and tousled strands of hair stuck to his forehead. He shamelessly looked me up and down, as if he had not been talking about murdering me moments ago.

  I wrinkled my nose. I hated him. He had known about the poison and done nothing, even hoped I would die before reaching our destination

  Darric handed the fresh rabbit to Bromly, who smelled it and flipped it over several times, examining the poor lifeless creature.

  “You don’t feel the way the rest of us do, Darric.” Flint shoved the remainder of the apple into his mouth.

  “I agree.” Darric sat down on the end of the seating log. He dipped his hands into a metal bucket of dreggy water and washed his bloody forearms, not bothering to remove his bracers. After a moment, he stopped abruptly to scan the woods, as if he heard something troubling. It caught the attention of the others, who didn’t relax until he went back to washing. “Now that you are awake, we can get you out of here.” He glanced up with only his eyes, narrowed to a sliver of steely blue. “You tumbled through the woods well enough while poisoned, so it should not be too strenuous for you to do it again. We’ll leave tomorrow before sunrise.”

  “What? No!” Flint’s cheeks went red with anger. “She’s not well. Ya can’t leave now. An’ besides, bear season’s gonna start.”

  Darric raised a skeptical eyebrow. “In a month.” He plopped his knife into the bucket and rubbed dried blood from the blade. “All right, then when you are not looking, I’ll just kill her.”

  I forgot how to take in air. Flint’s hair blended into the fiery color of his face; Darric seemed to be purposefully antagonizing him.

  “Sick or not, I’m perfectly capable of traveling through any terrain you choose.” Maybe. I crossed my arms over my chest, trying to hide from Darric’s penetrative eyes. “But you have to ensure my safety. If you did not want me trailing behind you, then you should have stopped me. I certainly did not release myself from that prison, or have you forgotten?”

  He smiled peevishly and ran wet hands through his hair before shaking off the remaining water. “I liked your perseverance.”

  “At least I meet your approval in some approximation.” My chest rattled. “What was the point of it all, if in the end you wanted me dead?”

  He slid down the log and leaned his back against the bark. “You are still here because of my brothers’ decision, not mine.”

  A second noise outside the cavern caused him to turn around. He shoved his blade back in his boot, and his mouth formed a hard line at the mountains. After several seconds, he recomposed himself and stood to approach me. The muscles in my arms tightened in distress as he towered over my head and peered directly into my eyes. His lethal stare cut into each vital organ, no knife needed.

  “Stay then,” he said, his voice deepening to match his threatening posture. He slipped the tips of his toughened fingers down the side of my neck, moving curls off my shoulder to expose my throat, and leaned down beside my ear, his lips grazing my skin. “But I would keep looking over my shoulder. I’m not opposed to stabbing someone in the back, and this lovely skin of yours would look beautiful dripping in blood.”

  A cold shiver went up my spine. He walked past me, his solid arm hitting my shoulder. “And breathing helps regulate the heart rate,” he added.

  My enormous gasp echoed through the chamber as I pulled a gigantic breath into my lungs.

  Darric slipped into the Hovel and returned with his cloak around his shoulders. “I’m leaving,” he muttered, exiting the cavern.

  “Bloody hell.” Bromly shook his head in disapproval. “Are you happy?” he asked Flint. “Is this what you wanted?”

  Flint’s wide smile took over most of his face. “He’s good at it.”

  “I’m going to let him take me to a town when he gets back.” Concern frayed the edges of my voice.

  “Never mind it,” Bromly reassured me. “Darric is just being defiant. Give him a couple days.”

  “He’s ticked that he’s been outvoted.” Flint laughed.

  I was offered rabbit stew but didn’t eat. My appetite remained as extinct as the kindness Darric had shown when he had led me by the hand to the Hovel. I had never been unwanted. Lords and ladies of the Rose Court had always tried to earn my favor. No one dared insult or threaten me. I had a household waiting to tend to my every need. Even though I wanted a life away from the constraints of Alamantia Palace, I was not prepared for such an immediate and drastic change. I was suddenly infantile, powerless, a nobody. Adjusting would take time.

  The sound of Flint slurping his food brought me out of my daze. He ate without a spoon, putting the bowl to his mouth and chugging large gulps that made his exaggerated laryn
x bob. He belched loudly when he finished.

  After eating, Bromly and Flint worked to create more pelts. I watched them scrape fat and sinew off several rabbit hides and toss the fleshy pieces into the fire, though Flint seemed more interested in picking sprigs of purple lupine growing near the entrance of the cavern. Sitting next to them in silence generated a strange form of humiliation. I didn’t know how to help or even perform something as simple as tending a fire.

  Eventually the sun dipped low in the sky, preparing to vanish behind the mountains. The breeze created a haunting howl as it rushed past the cavern. It sounded misplaced among the beautiful, flourishing landscape full of greenery and wildflowers.

  A grumbled snore broke the silence. Flint slept against the seating log, his neck arched and his mouth hanging open. His feet almost touched the coals, and his collected lupines fell from his hand. Bromly muffled a swear and disappeared into the house.

  A devastating sense of despondency took hold of me. I was suffocating and needed air. I strolled out of the cavern before anyone could stop me.

  Gritting my teeth against the pain in my ankles, I rested by the riverbank. A single tear dripped down my cheek, and wiping it away caused the cuts on my palm to sting. Dirt caked under my fingernails, and I could smell body odor wafting off my skin.

  Pull yourself together, Ayleth.

  I sniffled, catching my reflection in the water. The radical change in my appearance stopped me cold. My curls lay over my shoulders in a scattered mess. Scrapes and cuts blemished my jawline. My swollen bottom lip was split down the center. I looked dirty, my clothes stained and ragged. The Divine Princess who had once stared back at me had been replaced by Aya. Aya, who had survived death. Aya, who had listened to the song of a plow horse and tripped over the ripples of water. Aya, who was trying to find herself in a world where she shouldn’t exist.

  I plunged my hands into the icy water and tore through the image. The stream shuddered, sending waves lapping against the bank and churning white peaks in two directions at once. Ignoring it, I drank until my hands were numb, then rolled up my sleeves to wash away the blood and dirt clinging to my fingers. I splashed my face to clear the tears. It wasn’t much of a bath, but the small cleansing helped me feel human.