I moved over to Amy, throwing an arm around her, not giving her any choice, just dragging her against my body, pulling her with me. "We are looking for shelter. If we find it, Sal can start a fire for us. We can warm you up," I told her, hoping I could make good on that. My finger had brushed her neck when I rearranged her blanket around her. There was no warmth in her flesh; she was cold as death. I didn't think she would make it all the way to a cave.
It was a few short minutes later when I saw the shack Smoky had mentioned. And it was a shack, maybe being only half the size of Amy's home in the city had been, made of strong, time-tested tree limbs stacked horizontally, held together with years' worth of thick sap, sealing all the gaps, keeping the wind out of the small structure. There was a tiny chimney out the side, no smoke coming out of it, giving me hope that the space was empty.
"We're good," Smoky declared, popping out of the building. "There's even some dry wood inside. Come on. She looks like she is at death's door," she added bluntly, opening the door to let Sal in so he could build the fire.
"I'm fine," Amy insisted, going for stubbornly strong, but her teeth were chattering too hard to pull it off.
"Of course," I agreed, needing to half-carry her into the small space, catching a quick view of the dried leaves on the floor, the odd design on the wall that looked like it may have been drawn in blood, before Smoky closed and bolted the door, shrouding us in darkness while Sal scooped the dried leaves and wood into the small fireplace.
"Bring her over here," Sal demanded as the fire crackled to life, smoking a bit wildly for a moment as I cut to the chase, scooping up Amy, and bringing her across the short room, dropping down as close to the fire as was safe, opening my jacket, pulling her onto my lap, and closing the lapels as far around her as possible.
The shivers that racked her were - in turns - scary, but reassuring as her skin lost its touch of death, slowly became warm again.
"Better?" I asked when her body relaxed into mine.
"Mmhmm."
It shouldn't have, but the sound of that sparked desire through my system. I couldn't help it, though. The sound was soft and sweet and satisfied. I had to take a few deep breaths to calm the building need even as she snuggled her butt further into me, half-turning so her head could snuggle into my neck.
My arms went around her, not even caring if it was possessive in a way I hadn't earned the right to do.
"Stop being stubborn," Sal's voice chastised, drawing my attention over my shoulder to find Sal had arranged the remaining blankets on the floor in a makeshift bed across from Amy and me, a few feet down the wall.
Across from him, just a few feet to my side, Smoky was leaning with her back against the closed door.
"I am making sure we're safe." Even she knew her words were bullshit, there wasn't much emphasis behind them.
"The door is barred."
"Someone could..." Smoky started, only to be cut off by Sal's slightly amused voice.
"We're in a room with two other people, Smoke. I'm not going to try to fuck you. I'm just trying to keep us all warm," he told her, reaching out, grabbing her ankle, and dragging her a few inches closer.
"Don't you dare think you can..." she tried again, really trying to put some indignation in her voice, but everyone - likely even herself - knew it wasn't genuine.
"I can. I did. Now shut up and get over here," he demanded, folding up, grabbing her around the middle, and dragging her the remaining few feet, turning her, pushing her down, and spooning her.
He couldn't see it, though because how well he seemed to know her, he likely knew it was there, but as slow, tentative smile spread across her usually guarded face.
His arm went around her belly.
Her hand could have rested anywhere, but it landed on top of his.
I turned away, wanting them to have what little privacy the small, silent space allowed.
"Can you start fires?" Amy's quiet, sleepy voice asked.
"Not like Sal can. Not when fully in this form."
"Are you excited to be able to Change again?" she asked, running her cheek over the scruff on my neck. With her sensitive skin, there would likely be marks there in the morning light, something I maybe liked way more than I should have. "Or worried?" she prompted when I was too lost in my thoughts of beard burn to remember to answer her.
"A mix," I admitted, keeping my voice low as well. "Fighting the Change for so long has been like..." I trailed off, unsure how to explain it.
"Like needing to sneeze, but not being able to?" she suggested, making a smile pull at my lips at the innocence of that. The closest I could come to explaining it was definitely more explicit than that.
"Something like that," I agreed. "And I think all these years... it has made me associate the Change with violence. I think it is going to be a bit nerve-racking at first."
"Is it a private thing?" she asked as her fingers slipped just slightly under the collar of my shirt, the tips tracing over a scar near the base of my throat. "Changing," she specified. "Is it something that is done in private? I mean, you lose your, ah, clothes, and..."
"I can't say how it is for all fae who Change, seeing as many live among others who don't Change themselves. But because we are a community in which all adults do Change, it is something considered normal and natural. And nudity is a part of that. But a part you are used to before you even truly understand the difference between male and female bodies, let alone why the bodies are different."
"That's, um, that is going to take some getting used to," she told me, and I would put money on her face being pink at the very idea. "I don't think I have ever seen anyone's body but my own," she admitted, surprising me. "Not even a woman," she clarified. "Is that weird?"
"With your family? No. Not really."
"Do people Change all the time?"
I fought the smile, knowing she would feel it, not wanting her to think I was laughing at her. But her worry about such a little thing - in my culture, at least - was endearing.
"No. You can go days or weeks without seeing someone Change. Especially in the colder months. For obvious reasons. But groups usually do get together every so often to go fly, stretch their wings, get rid of stress."
"Everyone together? Men and women?"
"It goes more by friends, I guess."
"And couples?" she asked, voice quieter than a pixie's.
I was pretty sure I knew what she was getting at, couldn't help but wonder what her possible motivations were for wanting to know.
"Draca can mate in both forms," I told her, easing into it. "Most, I would say, have a preference for this form for that particular act. I'm sure some enjoy it in Draca form as well. But you won't see that unless you are purposely trying to invade on someone's privacy."
"You're all, ah, pureblood?" she asked, and I was pretty sure it wasn't a stretch to think that maybe, possibly she was curious for personal reasons.
"For a long time, yes. We simply haven't had outsiders in our world for many generations. But before we needed to put up our own veil, Draca courted and mated with all kinds of fae. There is no such thing as pure blood in our world. Our genes are dominant. No matter the other type of fae a Draca might have offspring with, they will be Draca. They may have additional skills, but they will be able to Change."
"I don't have any skills," Amy murmured, voice so small I almost hadn't heard her.
"You don't know that for sure yet," I assured her, arms squeezing a bit for emphasis. "I think your parents putting you in and out of the human realm may have screwed with your personal timeline. Had you grown up completely in The Green, you wouldn't have seen your powers for a decade. In our time. You weren't given that time. You were given human time. I think you may develop skills as you get older."
"Wouldn't that be funny?"
"How so?"
"For my mother's selfish scheming to be the very thing that prevented me from being truly valuable to her."
"Someday - if you want to -
you can show her. Show her what you were capable of, that she couldn't use you."
"I know it is petty, but I think I would like that."
"Then we will make it happen," I assured her.
"If we're still... friends." She phrased that very carefully. Tellingly carefully.
"We'll always be friends, honey. You have my word on that."
"Maybe someday, I can see you in Draca form," she murmured, sounding half asleep.
"If you want that, you can have that too."
"Okay," she said, nuzzling in. "Sounds good," she added, taking a slow, deep breath, body relaxing further into me.
It was just a few minutes before her body went completely lax with sleep.
And me, yeah, I stayed awake.
Thinking.
About my family, my clan, the Change, the freedom of being home again.
But mostly, yeah, I thought about sharing all of that with her.
And I fell asleep a long time later holding a fucking dream in my arms.
-
"Are you ready for this?" Sal asked the next afternoon as we got close. I could feel the pull, calling me home.
"I honestly don't know," I admitted.
"They'll be glad to have you home," he assured me. And because he was from a clan that, while different, had many similarities, I felt a bit of the weight lift off.
"Yeah," I agreed, watching as Smoky slipped something into Amy's hand. "Was that a knife?" I asked Sal.
"Knowing Smoke, yeah. She knows she's nervous. And Smoke's knee-jerk reaction to nervousness is violence," he told me, smirking.
"Did she give you her first letter?" I asked, knowing she had been scribbling over breakfast, overly excited at the idea of having that correspondence open to her, being able to have connections with her family still.
"Yeah. She got three pages in," he told me, smiling. "She also made Smoke agree to meeting with us each season. Said she wanted to catch up with her."
"Did she agree?"
"She said so long as she was free to, she would show."
"It will be nice to see you," I told him, meaning it. "I'll always be indebted to you all."
"You deserved some good after fuck-knows how much bad."
"Here we are," Smoke declared, making my head snap up to see the telltale swamp, creating a swirling sensation in my stomach. "I don't do mushy goodbyes," she added, completely unnecessarily, but turned to Amy. "I hope you're happy here," she told her. "And remember what I said, yeah?" she asked, making me wonder.
"I will," Amy assured her, having to physically hold back from reaching out to her. "I can't wait to see you in the spring. You too," Amy added, smiling, turning to Sal, not holding back in his case, wrapping her arms around him. "Keep an eye on her," she whispered so low that had I not been standing so close, I'd have missed it. "She won't admit it, but she likes that you're a constant in her life."
"I will. I promise," he told her. "Have fun with all those mythical creatures."
Amy moved away, leaving me with Sal and Smoky, seeming to sense we needed our own goodbyes.
"I don't think this is the end," I told them. "With Cass' need for ultimate power. You guys need to keep an eye out. Stay safe. Check in with each other. I think something is coming."
"We'll be fine," Smoky assured me.
"I'm sure. But if you need me, come here. If things get really bad, I will have them let you in. You'll be safe." Smoky went to open her mouth, but I shook my head. "I owe you. Both of you. So if that day comes, find me. I will get you safe."
"She won't admit it, but we appreciate that," Sal told me. "Now go on. Go see your loved ones again. We will see you on Ostara," he told me, meaning the first day of spring.
With that, the two of them turned and walked away, leaving me without an excuse to put it off any longer.
"How does this work?" Amy asked as I moved in beside her, both of us watching the swamp, seeing nothing but that. "There is no pull for me. Like the veil. Do you have it?"
"Yes. Stronger, even. And if you are attached to me, you will just be pulled through," I told her, hoping that still was true, figuring it must be since in all the years we had live behind this particular magical veil, nothing had ever changed about it.
"Are you nervous?" she asked, moving closer, reaching down to close her hand around mine.
"Yes."
"Me too," she agreed. "But I think standing here thinking about it is only going to make it harder," she added, thinking more clearly than I was in the moment.
"Take a deep breath," I instructed her, taking one when she did so herself.
And then we stepped through.
I don't know what I had been expecting.
A crowd of my kind just so happening to be standing around in a distant part of our realm.
But all there was was more forest, covered twenty-some-odd inches in snow.
There were tracks, someone had been this way since the snow stopped early that morning.
But no one was around.
"That was a bit, um, anti-climactic," Amy voiced exactly what I was thinking, making an odd, nervous chuckle escape me.
"Yeah," I agreed, squeezing her hand harder. "It's not too far to the village," I reassured her.
And then we walked.
For about forty minutes before I started to see the smoke, hear the far-off noises of life.
Amy swallowed hard when we rounded a corner and finally found ourselves in the middle of the common square, rows of buildings on either side of a giant courtyard that featured stone benches around a giant fire pit where we would often sit and tell stories, talk, just spend time together.
The snow had been removed, leaving only a small layer on the ground to prevent too much mud from being dragged everywhere. A fire was going in the pit, dancing happily, warming the group of men and women around it, happy, carefree, not thinking anything was unusual at all about this day.
No one noticed us for a long few moments before a head turned mid-laugh, the sound disappearing, the face freezing for a moment before it went serious.
"Who is that?" he blurted out, making all eyes in the area turn since, I imagined, not recognizing someone was very unlikely.
Beside me, Amy moved closer until her entire side was plastered to mine. Her small hand crushed into mine, reminding me to give hers a small squeeze, trying to reassure her even as I tried to scan for a familiar face, feeling oddly out of place among my own kind, a sensation I hadn't exactly anticipated.
"Drake?" a voice hissed, making a small crowd part to reveal a man clearly well into his middle age, his hair graying and thinning, his face starting to crinkle.
Not a family member.
Not even a friend.
An elder.
A leader in our tribe.
Taking a steadying breath, I moved forward, pulling Amy with me. Physically pulling since her legs had forgotten how to work.
"Yeah," I agreed, putting some strength in my voice. "It's me," I told him.
He was Drayven, one of the five elders. Or, at least, there had been five when I had last been around.
"How is this possible?" he asked, shaking his head as he moved closer, his strong body straightening to full height as he stepped in front of us. "It's been... so long," he added, eyes boring into me, little specks of green in the otherwise brown depths.
"I was captured," I told him, watching as a few mouths fell open behind Drayven, likely being able to guess exactly what that meant. "Enslaved," I added because it was true, because it would come out eventually, because I just wanted to get that part over with.
"How, after all this time, did you find your way back to us?"
Giving her hand a squeeze, knowing how it was going to feel when everyone's attention fell to her because I had just been the recipient of that unsettling treatment. "This is Amethyst. She freed me. And she needs sanctuary," I added, voice fierce.
"Of course. Anyone who brought you back to us is welcome," Drayven said, but carefully,
in a way that put me on-edge. "Someone go fetch Drake's family. They will want to know he is here," he added, voice somewhat exasperated that no one had chosen to take it upon themselves to do the errand already. "While they do that, Drake, I am going to need you to come and speak to the rest of the elders with me." There was no room for negotiation in his tone. And, when it came to orders from the council of elders, you simply didn't object. It wasn't done. Banishment was an ugly punishment for the kind of fae who others would use to enslave. Our safety was in our seclusion. No one wanted that taken away. "Don't worry," he went on, nodding his chin at Amy. "Your friend will be safe. She can warm by the fire while we talk."
Amy's hand frantically held onto mine for a second before she forced her fingers to relax, to pull away one by one.
"I'll be okay," she assured me, voice a lot more certain than her eyes looked. But I had no choice. And neither did she.
"I'll be right back," I promised her, looking around for a familiar, trusted face, but seeing none. She would be alone, watched like any outsider would be, on display.
But it was just for a few short moments.
"Let's get this part over with," I mumbled to Drayven as he lifted a brow at my tone, but turned and started walking.
I knew where we were heading. To the largest building in our realm - the gathering hall. It was situated at the far end of the square, an almost intimidating structure that legends told us took two generations to build - natural stone piled and mortared, piled and mortared, three stories high and wider around than even the Winters compound, meant to house all of us in our Changed form should we ever need to have the space to do so. For protection. Even in the winter, ivy clung and climbed, covering half of the front and all of the sides, the greenery doing nothing to soften the cold, almost foreboding look of the place.
"No reason to be holding your breath, son," Drayven told me, voice a sight softer than it had been a moment before as he led me up the cleared path to the door of the gathering hall which also happened to serve as the elders' office of sorts. They would often sit there during the days, willing to hear disputes, gathering together to try to solve problems. Like when the spring was too wet, making the grounds difficult to plant. Or when the coffers went nearly bare much sooner than had been predicted.
Escape From The Green Page 15