ENCHANTING THE FEY BOOK #2
REBECCA BOSEVSKI
1
“WHAT DO YOU MEAN SHE is the baby?” Jax asked, taking a step towards me but not removing is gaze from our daughter, who stood almost as tall as him. The light from the bedroom window made his hair look almost blonde, and when it caught his eyes, the green whirlpools gleamed brightly. “You were pregnant for less than a month and now we have a teenage daughter?”
I sat up in the bed and watched as our daughter raised her hands in front of her. The same light that haloed Jax, pierced her in glistening rays. She wiggled her fingers through them and her smile grew.
This is insane. I just had a baby and the baby is like what, fifteen? Thirteen maybe? How the hell did this happen?
She didn’t look like me. Not really. Her hair sat in colourful rainbow waves over her shoulders and down over her otherwise bare chest.
Jax sat beside me taking my hand in his and resting his other on my now flat stomach.
But she’s mine. I made her. She’s mine and she’s incredible.
Jax opened his mouth to speak again but I shook my head slightly to hush him.
“Darling girl,” Maylea said softly, as she stepped closer to my daughter, a dressing gown in hand. Where did she get that from?
The child’s head shot up and her eyes darted around the space. Then they landed on mine.
“Y...you,” she began in a beautifully angelic tone. “You are m... me, my...”
“Your mother, your mum?” I offered, and she tilted her head in thought.
“My mum?”
“Yes, your mother, and Jax is your father. Maylea is your great—”
“Grandma will suffice,” Maylea said, cutting me off and wrapping the gown around the curious girl. She fumbled with the sides and had to be helped to place her left arm through the sleeve, but followed with her right unassisted.
Maylea was Jax’s grandmother. She ran my father’s house and looked after everyone in it. For the past few weeks, that included Jax and I, too.
After the battle with Traflier ended and I found out I was pregnant we moved to live in my apartment in Enmore. I wanted my child to grow up as normal as possible, or at least with a blue sky. I loved the sky back home in the human world. I would often spend hours laying in the sun staring up at it, watching the clouds make fantastical shapes.
But the baby inside began to grow too fast. After only a week I looked about three months along, and after a few days more, there was no hiding the state I was in.
With my pregnancy’s acceleration, I couldn’t exactly see a human doctor, so we came to see Maylea. She was a midwife of sorts in Baldea and the only person Jax trusted to look after me.
“Des, how is this possible?” Jax asked, squeezing my hand in his.
“I don’t know, but does it even matter? She’s here now and I for one am thankful to not have had to push her out.”
Maylea wrapped her arm around my daughter’s shoulders. “How about you give the dear child a name?”
“A name?” she asked, puzzling over the word.
“Yes my dear, when you are born you are named. My name is Maylea.”
The door creaked open and my father stood in its frame, his hand over his eyes. “Are you okay? Is the baby here? Are you decent?”
Before I could answer Jax’s parents, Sarah and Mark, shoved past him in their excitement. Sarah and Mark had moved to a cottage house on my father’s property after the battle. Their house was destroyed in the war with Traflier—crushed—I think my father had said. I never did ask him by what.
They were half way across the room when they pulled up catching sight of her.
My daughter spun away from Maylea and towards the corner of the room, her arms wrapped around herself as she cowered against the wall.
“Wait!” I moved Jax and jumped out of bed, standing between them and her before they could approach her again.
“Desmoree, are you—” my father began, but stopped when he too saw her.
“Oh my Fey! Giovannya?” Sarah exclaimed, grasping at Mark. “How can this be?”
“Calm yourself Sarah, this is your granddaughter,” Maylea said from behind me.
Sarah whipped her head from side to side, “no, Maxvillious, tell them. Tell them it’s her!”
Jax reached for his mother’s arm but she pulled away. “Mum it’s true. This is your granddaughter.”
A hand lands on my shoulder and I turn. My daughter stares at me through gleaming brown eyes—my mother’s eyes.
The youngest I had seen my mother was in a photo of when I was born, the same photo my father had recreated in the painting I loved so dearly. I had it moved to the hall by my room so I could greet her every morning and farewell her every night.
My daughter was younger than my mother in those images, but the similarities were impressive.
She tilted her head again and looked past me for a moment before meeting my stare and squinting a smile.
“Mother.”
“Yes,” I whispered as I reached up. My fingers brushed the hair from her face, tucking a strand of yellow behind her ear. Her hair and skin were silky soft.
“Do I have a name?” she asked as she leaned into my hand, her head resting in it as her eyes closed. She smiled again.
“Um...Jax, what should we name our daughter?”
“No,” she said, opening her eyes and jolting her head from its rest in my palm. “Mother name me.”
Jax would never admit it, but I swore I saw a little of the light leave his eyes in that moment.
“It’s okay, you didn’t like any of my baby names anyway, you pick her name.” He moved to stand next to his parents who still stood watching on in awe. Max sat on the bed staring at us.
“Okay. Well my mother’s name was Giovanya.” Her eyes lit up. My father and Jax shuffled behind me. “But... that was a mouthful even for her. I always wanted a short name, something easy to write and easy to say.” I had a shortlist of baby names Jax and I thought of over the last few weeks. He was right, I hadn’t liked any of his choices. Somehow I didn’t think Agatha was a suitable name for our baby girl. But neither were any of my names. I ran through them in my mind. Then she rested her head in my hand again and closed her eyes. It felt perfect. I brought up my other hand to cup her face, and the perfect name came to me. “How about Ava?”
Her eyes opened and a grin crept over her lips.
“Ava,” she repeated. Her voice made the name sound like it was sung by angels.
“Ava it is then,” Jax said, stepping forwards. “Now Ava, what do you know about what you are and how you got here?”
“Jax.” I shot him a glare. “Do we have to do this now?”
“I just thought she might know something seeing as she’s all... you know?” Jax waved his arms around and Ava frowned. I didn’t like it.
“She’s our daughter, that’s all we need her to know right now. Come on Ava, let’s get you some clothes.” I took her hand in mine and couldn’t stop marvelling at how soft it was. “I don’t think the clothes I had prepared will fit you, so I guess you can have something of mine.” I forced a smile at her but sadness washed over me. The tiny little pale pink suit I had bought would never be worn. She’s grown. I missed it all.
Jax moved towards me and placed his hand on my shoulder. “I am sorry, I guess it’s still a bit of a shock. When she’s ready, we could take her shopping?” He offered and I felt my spirits lift.
Ava shifted beside me and when I looked to her I saw her peeking through her rainbow curls as she buried her chin in her shoulder and her eyes darted between Jax and I.
“Come on,” I said as I led her away from the audience of her extended family. No one tried to st
op us, or to follow.
When we got to my room I closed and locked the door behind us. Ava turned and did the thing where she tilted her head again, it looked like she was still trying to figure me out. Maybe she was. Maybe she had no idea about anything, as innocent as a baby in the body of a teenager. But I had to know if she knew what she was, what I was. So I shifted my form, and my clothes morphed into my glistening white gown as my torn leaf-like wings unfurled and wrapped around me.
She looked me up and down then took a deliberate breath in. On the exhale she changed.
The dressing gown Maylea gave her vanished, and a pale blue gown replaced it. It mirrored my own in every way except colour.
She gazed at my wings then turned her back to me and I watched in amazement as her back glistened with a rainbow of colours. From the light, her wings erupted. Not like mine at all.
Hers were made of layer upon layer of feathers. Hundreds of brilliant, glistening white feathers. She stretched her wings out, the tips touching the ceiling, before she wrapped them around herself and turned back to face me. She didn’t look like a fairy. She looked like an angel.
“Ava, do you know what I am?”
“Yes.” She said rising onto the balls of her feet as her arms swung softly by her side. “You are my mother.”
“Yes, but I am also fey. A fairy. You are a fairy too.”
“A fairy?”
“That’s why you can do that,” I said, pointing to her dress. “And you will be able to do much, much more. You could be more powerful than any of us.”
She morphed back to the dressing gown, leaving no trace of her dress or feathered wings.
“Ava,” I began, morphing back to my regular form as I took a cautious step towards her. “It’s okay. Look, let’s start small. Would you like to pick out something to wear?”
She raised her shoulders, giving me a small smile before nodding. I took her hand and led her into my walk in wardrobe.
It was a grand space. Jax had it fitted out the first week we moved in. I had thought the sitting area beside my bedroom would make a fabulous dressing space, and on my return from picking berries with Maylea, he had transformed it into one—complete with shoe rack for all my pretties.
The entrance from the main hall remained, but he placed a large gilded mirror in front of it and locked the door from the inside. That way the only way in would be from our room.
Jax didn’t keep his clothes in there though. It was just for me.
“So, what grabs your eye?” I asked, spinning in the centre of the room, arms outstretched.
“That,” she said, pointing to a fitted gold evening gown I had only worn once to a Dazzle event a few years earlier.
“It might be a little much for daywear, let’s find you something more suited to a young girl.”
She frowned but a moment later something else snagged her attention. She walked deliberately towards my favourite thing: my tower of shoes.
My father had brought almost everything I owned to his property. Traflier had lied, the Ninth Nazieth never retrieved all my belongings from the human world. They, or Traflier, had searched my apartment for something, but they only brought back a handful of smalls and a few pairs of flats. It took three days to clean up when Jax and I went back after the war. At least I didn’t have to pack it all to come to Baldea, dad took care of everything. He literally jumped at the idea of me moving in.
I was scared the landlord had sold whatever was left to pay back my outstanding rent, but only the other day Max brought me the papers. He bought the apartment, in my name.
“Somewhere you know you can always return to,” he said when he handed me the mortgage papers. “Somewhere you can escape to if need be.”
“Not those!” I called as Ava reached for my blue pumps. “You can wear any except those. Besides, maybe you should start with the flats and work your way up to heels,” I said, collecting a pair of pale pink sparkle flats from the third row.
“These were worn in a Myer shoot for Dazzle magazine. I don’t suppose you know what that is, but it was a good day.” I took her hand and led her to the chaise lounge beside the mirror. “Here, sit,” I said as I knelt to help her. “The shoe designer was a blast to work with and he gave me these as a bonus for getting the shot he needed in half the time.”
She watched me as I slipped the first shoe onto her left foot, a perfect fit. I have a daughter. I have an almost fully grown daughter who looks amazingly like my mother and is wearing my shoes. I swore I would never share my shoes. But look how happy she is.
“I guess we are the same size,” I said, grinning up at her. I slipped the other shoe onto her right foot and stood, holding out a hand for her to take. “Come and look at yourself. What do you think?”
She stood in front of the mirror and lifted the gown up a little to admire her shoes. I admired her. She was incredible. A fully grown girl.
“My girl.”
“Our girl,” Jax said, standing in the doorway.
Ava tensed.
“Jax, she fits my shoes.”
“And you are sharing,” he said as he stepped over to me, placing a kiss on my forehead before squeezing me tight.
“Isn’t she beautiful?”
“She is, but was bound to be—just look at her mother.”
I gave him a poke in the stomach and returned to Ava, but not before I grabbed a spring floral dress from the hanging rack on the wall. I placed it in front of her and she gasped and pulled it close, standing on her toes and swinging side to side.
Jax turned to leave. “I will wait for you out here.”
I waved him away, happy to have my girl to myself in one of my happiest places. “So, you want to try it on?” I asked but she had already began slipping the dress from the hanger. She dropped the robe and only then did I remember she had no other clothing on.
“Oh, wait, here.” I opened a drawer on the side wall to reveal layers of folded underwear in countless styles. Most of them were new, a gift from Maylea. I had plenty of designer sets back home, but the fabrics of Baldea were unlike anything I had ever felt. I smirked as I grabbed from the fun section a pair of underwear with little bunnies printed on them.
“Slip these on first.”
She needed a little help figuring out how to put them on—she first tried to slip her arm through one of the leg holes—but like the dressing gown, after I directed one leg through, she quickly followed with the other and pulled them up.
The dress came next. I didn’t wait to see if she could do it on her own; this dress was silk and cost me a small fortune about ten years earlier at a sample sale. I unzipped the back and lowered it down to the plush carpeted floor.
“Step in.”
She did as I directed and I brought the dress up, guiding her arms under the shoestring straps before zipping up the back.
She ran her fingers down the fabric, in awe of her reflection in the mirror.
“You are beautiful,” I said, smiling over her shoulder.
“Why can’t we create this one like we did with the other dress?”
“Everything has to come from somewhere. Our fey form is inside of us so it can overtake us at will. But everything else needs to be created in some way. You could probably have the dress go from the hanger onto your body, but where is the fun in that?”
She squinted at her reflection and the floral dress shimmered, blurred, then disappeared. In its place was the gold, fitted evening gown that once hung beside us on the rack.
“Wow,” I said, looking between the gold dress she now wore, and the floral one now hanging where it had. “I guess you can do it.”
“You could, if you tried.”
“That’s okay, I’ll try later.”
She frowned at my uncertainty.
Suddenly, the room gave a violent shake. Her eyes widened and the floor moved again, the vibrations sending a crack up the length of the mirror.
“Quake!” Jax called, running into the room and grabbing Ava
’s arm. He pulled her clear just as the shards of the mirror broke free, and the glass shattered to the floor.
I joined him in wrapping my arms around our trembling child. The floor swayed as if the house sat on ocean waves. The dress Ava wore returned to its floral silk form.
The roof began to crack in places as tiny specks of plaster rained down upon us.
“Ava, it’s alright.” I tried to sooth her, but she continued to shake in our arms. “It will be over soon, I promise.”
I didn’t know for sure. There were earthquakes back home and humans were yet to master the ability to predict them. I thought back to the quake in Newey in ‘89. My mother and I had just returned from the park near one of her friends’ houses when it hit. I remember standing in the doorway as the entire house shook around us. I sprinted, my mother calling my name. But I darted through to the back. Passing the kitchen I watched the cupboards open, and cups and plates crashed to the floor. I dashed out the rear door and hid behind the tomato bush beside our house. There I stayed, shaking just like Ava was now.
My mother found me moments later as the world around me continued to quiver and she did what she always did to calm me: she sang.
So I sang.
I don’t know where the words came from, but the tune I knew by heart. The melody of my song, with the words for her. For my child. For my Ava.
Da da da do
Da da da de
Child of light
You are far more than me.
Da da da do
Da da da de,
A guiding hand
Brought you down to me.
Of thy angels
and of blessed fey
My darling Ava,
You will light the way.
I sang the tune twice before her body succumbed to the melody, and another before the quake passed and the roof ceased to rumble. She slowly brought up her head, tears staining her cheeks.
“Mum,” she began, her voice as angelic as the moment she first spoke.
“What?” Jax and I both asked.
“Sorry about your mirror.”
“It wasn’t your fault. Besides, it wasn’t big enough anyway.”
Jax laughed and released us both. “I think I will go check on the others, if you two are okay?”
Uniting The Fabled Page 1