Dreams of the Fae: Transcendence

by Anna Patrick Paige

  “You once said I reminded you of your brother. Is that how you see me? Am I a brother to you?” he asked gravely, as if yes was the last sound he wanted to hear.

  “No,” I admitted.

  He pressed his forehead to mine. “A friend? Or simply an instructor?” he continued softly.

  “Neither.” Throbs of blood morphed my tongue, so I struggled to speak.

  He shut his eyes and huffed out a breath. “I wish I didn’t make you so nervous when I touch you. I can feel it every time I try—that your heart is going to explode if I don’t keep my distance. I’ve been hoping it’s a reaction to training, but it’s something else, isn’t it?” He dug his fingers into my back, tightening his hold on me.

  My body shook from head to toe. “No one has ever touched me the way you do.”

  “I don’t want you to be nervous with me.” He slid his cheek down the side of my face. “I’m sorry it has taken me this long to tell you, but for someone who wears their emotions so openly, you’ve done well hiding any amorous feelings you might have for me.” The heat of his sweet breath filled my throat. I arched my back and sharply inhaled as he laid a soft kiss on my neck. “Aya, I’ve tried to keep away from you. I can’t do it anymore. Trying not to love you is tearing me apart, and there isn’t much of me that’s left whole. You said you needed to hear it from me. I want more than what we currently are. If that’s what you want.”

  The entire valley fell into the background at his words.

  I went to pieces in his arms, soft and pliable. He trailed his lips up my neck and kissed my jaw before lifting his head to meet my eyes.

  “Please, turn me down,” he whispered, going still, waiting for me to make the decision that would change everything.

  “No.” I ran my hands across his shoulders and fed my fingers into the feathery strands of his hair. “You are never going to be a brother to me. You never were. I don’t want you to stay away from me.”

  His entire body shivered against mine. “Stubborn Fae,” he growled, gliding a hand up my spine and twisting his fingers into my curls. He pulled my head back, cradling me.

  “Insolent instructor,” I whispered as his breath fell over me, and he pressed his lips to mine.

  My entire body caught fire. Flames blazed along my weakened legs, through the muscle and into my toes. It burned even the almond tresses tangled in his hand. His lips parted as he kissed me, moving in an electrified dance with mine.

  Enraptured. Maniacal. I couldn’t absorb enough of him into me.

  A groan of bliss and relief rumbled in the back of his throat. I clawed at his scalp, forcing him to press his lips harder. Responding to my desperation, he opened his mouth and slipped his tongue over mine. I lost the ability to stand. Thankfully, I had a tree to lean against.

  The urge we had to kill each other dissipated, and with one kiss, I knew everything he had wanted to say to me from the beginning. Light shone on his internal war, the vexing action. He had tried to prevent us from ever feeling this way for each other.

  All this time I’d been training to fight, I’d been becoming a part of him. An extension of my other half. Everything made sense. Every moment of my existence had purpose. I was meant to touch him. Created to stand by his side no matter who or what we became. Everything I had ever felt towards him, all the anger and frustration, had been a way to cope with the reality we had both recognized the moment we met. An uncontrollable force stronger than gravity.

  I couldn’t stop it anymore. I couldn’t ignore the astounding realization of how deeply and irreversibly I had fallen in love with Darric Ursygh. My hooded stranger. My insolent instructor. And I wanted it anywhere, anytime, here, now, everywhere all at once.

  I knew I heard it. The sound echoed in my head at first but quickly materialized in the outside world.

  Darric ripped himself away from me.

  By the time I opened my eyes, he was leaning against a tree far out of my reach, his shoulders violently trembling. He eased down the trunk and buried his forehead in his hands. “I’m so sorry, Aya. I should have done that somewhere else, at a more appropriate time.”

  I gripped the bark for support. My strength was gone, and I hated to see him so dismayed at such an unfriendly distance.

  The cause of his distress hit my ears—Flint calling my name grew louder. I nearly collapsed from disappointment. My lips burned. The places Darric had touched were dying coals where fire had blazed. I wanted him back in my arms.

  “Hey, ya left without me, silly.” Flint ran up to us, his orange hair lopsided from the breeze. He rested his hands on his knees to catch his breath. “Good, ya found Darric. Everythin’ is ready. All goods moved an’ such. We can head to the river anytime now.”

  Darric slid his hands down his face, leaving his fingers resting over his mouth, and continued kneeling by the base of his tree.

  With both of us silent, Flint noticed my weapons jutting from the trunk. “What the hell?” He tugged at Luken’s dagger.

  Darric jolted upright and pushed his brother out of the way to jerk the blade free. He handed it to me without glancing in my direction, and I weakly sheathed it back against my ankle.

  Flint giggled. “So, Aya, have ya figured out how he does that yet?” He pointed to the hole left in the bark.

  I dropped my chin and shook my head as Darric leaned over me to yank my sword out of the branch. “All right. Let’s go,” he said bitterly and pushed the hilt into my hands.

  Flint prattled by my side. I didn’t hear a single word he said.

  Not once did Darric look back at us. I felt strange and alone, worried the feeling I’d had while enraptured in his arms had been fleeting and unrealistic. The slowing, heavy beats of my heart were the only reminder that moments ago, he’d kissed me in a way I hadn’t known existed.

  I squeezed my eyes shut, attempting to restrain my erratic emotions. No lie I could tell myself would change the brutal fact that I was in love with him.

  The Hovel appeared abandoned. With the fires extinguished, the food and pelts packed, and the fur doors removed and stored, everything seemed disconnected.

  Darric went into his room to retrieve his haversack. I stood outside the cavern with Bromly and Flint, watching them tie cloaks around their shoulders that I’d never seen them wear.

  With the absence of doors, I could see Darric eyeing my empty haversack. He looked up at me and leaned onto the bed frame, curling a finger towards himself.

  I slid into his room and folded my arms over my chest, my stomach unrelentingly churning. “I know, don’t overthink it,” I said flatly.

  He set his pack on the bed. “You could have told me my brother was trailing you. This is exactly why I apologized. I should have done that when I could explain. It was hellacious timing. All these weeks alone with you in the woods, and I choose ten minutes before we leave for Burge to capitulate.”

  I stared at my feet and raked my shoe over the floor.

  He hooked a finger under my chin. “Look at me.”

  I raised only my eyes.

  “I regret the time and place, not the action itself.”

  A long breath rushed out of my lungs, releasing worry from my core.

  Darric’s hand curled around the back of my neck, pulling me closer to him, as I ran my fingers up his chest and took handfuls of his shirt fabric into my fists.

  “I meant everything I said. Am I insane for thinking that if you didn’t know about my feelings for you, you might choose to stay in Burge instead of returning to the Hovel? You are trained. You’re deadly. You don’t need me anymore.”

  I tightened my grip on his clothes. “I’m always going to need you, Darric.”

  He smiled briefly, then yanked my hands from the fabric. “We can’t do this—any of this—around Bromly and Flint.”

  I nodded reluctantly instead of asking why. My anxiety was warping my ability to form complete thoughts.

  He thumbed the pout in my bottom lip and plucked my cloak off the wall.
“We need to go. My brothers are waiting.”

  A carrot stuck out of Bromly’s satchel. His pack weighed significantly more due to the vegetables he carried.

  The journey held a mournful tone, yet light shone through the darkness. In the center of my chest, a fire had started—sparked by the man walking in front of me with his gray cloak swaying in the breeze. Each time Darric looked at me, he coyly smiled, and my cheeks flushed. Those hidden glances made leaving the Hovel easier.

  I looked back to the cavern only once to remember it. The same way I had on horseback while riding away from Alamantia Palace. However, when I left Alamantia, I knew with certainty it would always be there no matter how far I ran.

  The cavern looked far less entrancing from the center of the clearing. Without the warm glow of firelight illuminating the Hovel, it disappeared into the landscape as a foreboding hollow den. I would gravely miss the only place in Athera I would ever willingly call home.

  We traveled to the lake at the edge of the valley. At the top of the ledge, the surrounding brush was newly cleared, and a large fallen tree created a bridge across the chasm that disappeared behind the falls.

  Bromly mounted the log. Taking great care, he worked his way across the trunk in a sideways shuffle. Eventually he reached a mess of dying leaves still attached to the treetop and vanished behind the waterfall.

  “I’ll help you across.” Flint laid his hand on my back, nudging me forwards.

  I grabbed his arm to stop him from pushing me. “I don’t need help.”

  Darric gave an amused chuckle, making his little brother wrinkle his nose in disgust.

  I fluttered across the beam on my tiptoes and bounced into a small space where Bromly waited. He smiled, impressed. “I’d like to see you in action someday, Aya. Darric has never had a protégée before.”

  “I can’t begin to explain the hours of balance training he put me through to perfect my equilibrium,” I informed him.

  “Oh, I can imagine,” he said, growing more effervescent by the minute.

  “You’re excited to be leaving,” I observed.

  His eyes came to life with merriment. In a short time, he would have the woman he loved in his arms again. His radiating cheer was contagious, and I allowed his chipper mood to filter into me.

  Across the falls, Flint straddled the log, scooting his bottom along the bark.

  “He fell one year.” Bromly laughed. “He won’t cross on foot anymore.”

  When he came within reach, Bromly extended a helpful arm.

  “I can do it myself.” Flint tried to stand, stumbled, and hit his face on the rock.

  Darric dropped from the bridge and landed beside me a second later.

  Bromly led the group into a narrow stone passage cutting through the mountain. The dark, claustrophobic path touched our shoulders on both sides. A slick layer of wet moss lined the rock, and backwash from the falls seeped along the floor. Water dripped from the ceiling and down the walls, dampening my dress and filling the passage with the scent of mold and rotting foliage. The deeper we traveled into the mountain, the less the light from the opening helped guide our path.

  The tunnel turned, and the bright outline of an uneven hole marked our exit.

  “Don’t fall, Aya,” Bromly advised.

  We filtered out of the passage and onto a shallow cliff outside the valley. An unimpressive waterfall trickled into a pool roughly one hundred feet below us, where the river disappeared into the evergreen forest and commenced its journey south.

  Firmly attached to the surrounding rocks, a rope ladder cascaded down to touch the water, and resting along the pool’s bank was a freshly repaired wooden barge. The rectangular boat curved upwards at the bow, and a simple short mast jutted from the center of the deck. A long bench built into the hull provided seating at the stern, next to the tiller. The Burge traveling vessel appeared to be just over twelve feet long by six feet wide and had a hull that made it appear more like a small ship than a barge. Oddly, I didn’t see our cargo anywhere.

  Darric and Bromly started hoisting the ladder up the ledge and rolling it into a bundle against the rock. The cat screeched an unpleasant chord and darted towards the rope ladder. Hooking her claws into the weave, she scampered down the remaining length. With the ladder growing shorter, she had no choice but to spastically toss her body towards the bank in an attempt to stay dry. Unsuccessful, she splashed into the shallows, crawled out of the mud, and shook her fur, puffing out the fuzz like a blooming burgundy dandelion.

  The Hovel brothers erupted into laughter. I bit my lip, gazing over the edge to be sure she wasn’t injured. The disgruntled feline perched on the stern, a look of detestation pulling all her dripping features downwards.

  Bromly hollered in delight and leaped off the cliff. I yelped and covered my mouth. His descent took an eternity before he crashed into the water, making a colossal splash. I held my breath until he resurfaced.

  “He’s in a hurry this year,” said Darric.

  “He just flung himself over a cliff! And that’s all you can say? He could have been hurt. What the hell has come over him?”

  “He’s in love,” Flint sing-songed.

  Darric stood next to me. “Hit the water with your feet, Aya. It hurts less.”

  “Hurry up!” Bromly called from the pool.

  “You’re not expecting me to jump down there?” I reeled with skepticism, discovering why the three had returned to the Hovel soaking wet every day.

  My knees knocked together. The longer I peered over the edge, the dizzier I became.

  “Priorities, Aya. You can face me dual wielding, but you can’t jump off a little cliff?” Darric questioned.

  I groaned. “I assumed we would be cutting through brush or climbing, not contemplating suicide.”

  “You can always stay here.” He gave me a smug grin.

  I narrowed my eyes at him. No more time to think. I filled my lungs to capacity and propelled myself off the ledge.

  My legs sent a scream up my spine. The world flew by in a blur. The wind whipped at my face and dried my eyes. I couldn’t see the water coming.

  The rock-hard impact tingled through the souls of my shoes as the icy pond knocked the wind from my lungs. I swam for the surface and drew air back into my empty chest.

  The weight of my dress made it impossible to stay afloat, and I furiously searched for the bank. Darric emerged beside me. He shook water from his head, and his unruly hair flared in haphazard directions.

  “It’s so cold.” I shivered, clenching my jaw to stop my teeth from chattering.

  “It’s melting ice caps.” He pulled me into his arms to ease my struggle. “Your lips are such a lovely shade of purple,” he murmured.

  The water didn’t feel so cold in the warmth of his embrace. He pressed his nose into the back of my neck, and everything went fuzzy. I tried to prevent the fog. I didn’t want to feel it anymore. I wanted to see him clearly and remember every detail in each moment he touched me.

  “Why couldn’t ya jus’ leave the ladder?” Flint called, still waiting on the cliff.

  “We don’t leave the ladder because it makes our location obvious,” Darric said to only me, his lips brushing my skin. “Flint is always the last to jump. He has absolutely no nerve.”

  Flint went rigid watching his older brother so close to me, and a baleful sneer warped his face. He backed three steps away from the ledge and sped forwards, launching himself into the air. He tried to dip his head into a graceful dive, but he overaccelerated. His limbs flailed like a rag doll. Unable to reorient himself, he hit the water headfirst with a loud slap and sank beneath the ripples.

  “Shit!” Darric released me to swim to his brother’s aid. Without him keeping me from sinking, I had no choice but to swim for the shore. Bromly frantically ran from the bank, sloshing through the shallows.

  Flint’s lifeless body bobbed on the surface, a trail of blood dripping out of his mouth. Small waves lapped over his torso as Bromly and
Darric dragged his pale, limp form to shore. Tears welled in my eyes.

  “He’s not breathing.” Darric turned Flint’s face out of the mud.

  Don’t be dead—Don’t be dead—Don’t be dead.

  “Breathe! Damnit, breathe!” Bromly hit him in the chest and slapped him, sending the blood in Flint’s mouth spraying across his cheek.

  “He’s okay, right? He’s going to be okay?” I blubbered.

  Darric glanced at my distraught face with only his eyes, giving no reassurance.

  “Do something!” I screamed.

  He shoved Bromly off Flint’s chest and wrapped his hand around his motionless brother’s neck, searching for a pulse.

  A huge smile grew across Flint’s mouth. His front tooth was chipped, and his teeth were coated in blood. “I require a kiss from Aya to awaken.” His eyes shot open, and he released a howl of hysterical laughter.

  Darric tightened his grip on his brother’s throat, raised him off the ground, and forcibly slammed him back into the dirt. “You stupid motherfucker!” he erupted. Flint yelped a pathetic squeak from the punch to his larynx.

  Darric stormed to the cliff face and rested his hands on the stone, visibly trying to quell the trembling in his shoulders.

  Bromly sank into the mud, removed his cap, and angrily wrung the fabric between his fingers.

  “Oh, c’mon, it was funny.” Flint choked between laughs. “The three of ya were frantic. It was great.”

  My cheeks burned with uncontrollable rage. “You! Unimaginable! Ass! Flint Keene!” I cried and kicked him in the ribs as hard as I could. “I thought you were dead!”

  Flint grasped his side and rolled. “Damn, Aya, just ’cause I’m alive don’t mean that fall didn’t really hurt!” He wiped the side of his face, smearing blood onto his fingers. “Look. Blood.”

  “Do your worst, Aya.” Darric leaned against the rock, unwilling to intervene.

  “Kick him again,” Bromly added scornfully.

  I dug my nails into my scalp and ran from the shore before I committed murder. Landing on a large rock just inside the trees, I buried my face in my hands.