by B. J. Smash
The finery of their clothing was…extraordinary. The best I can do is say the gowns of the women were exquisite, and ornamental. Jewels that I'd never seen before were sewn in or attached somehow into the bodices and along the hemlines, and some on the skirts themselves. The colors couldn't be named for some of the gowns, for I'd never seen such bright shades of purples, blues, reds, and even cream colors that stung the eye. What I would give for a gown such as that! And I didn’t even care for dresses. I asked myself, Who are these people? But I knew the answer had to be none other than the Regal Folk themselves. The Fae, or the Seelie aka the Good Folk, that Ian had spoken of. And yet there was something foreboding about them as well. Perhaps they were the Unseelie?
The men standing in the background—clapping their hands to the music—were wearing the finest coats of indescribable quality, brocaded with fancy colors unknown to me. The women were opposite them, clapping their hands in rhythm. Between them was a couple dancing in time to the music. At the moment their backs were to me, but as the two swung around, arms interlocked, I got a much better look. And one of them was, Zinnia. I couldn't believe my eyes. She didn't look gaunt or scrawny now; she was magnificent. In an ivory-colored gown with what I was sure were real diamonds sparkling in the light, she danced in circles around her partner.
Thousands of white fairy tree lights dangled down around the trees. However, there were no cords. Not a single one. I couldn't tell how they were powered, or how they hung so nicely.
I watched as they danced on, and I saw how beautifully Zinnia's brown hair was piled up high on her head, adorned with jewels. The young man she danced with had to be one of the handsomest young men I'd ever seen. His coat was a dark color with purple embroidery. And as they danced around, arms interlocked, they appeared to be floating above the ground.
I don't know how much time had passed as I sat there, crouched behind the tree, transfixed, when abruptly the music stopped.
No way. They can't stop the music!
Dead silence.
I heard myself whimper, and my bottom lip literally pouted forth. I felt empty, and I craved to hear it once more!
Soon, people were exchanging some words, and then there was laughter. It appeared to be some sort of ceremony. Zinnia and this young man were staring into each other’s eyes, and he held her like he was about to swoop her down in a waltz. Everyone stood silent and watched. What were they doing?
Finally, another man in a black robe walked over to them. His hair was black as the night sky, but his beard was graying, and he appeared to be of great importance. Silver dust followed in his wake. He held his hands above their heads, sprinkling what looked like silver and gold dust down over them, and he said something that I couldn't understand. He then reached into his pocket and pulled out what looked like a white knife—bone?—and carved something into an apple. It was some symbol that I couldn't make out. It had taken him a few moments to do this, while the others looked on patiently.
The man then handed the apple to Zinnia. She took a bite from it and handed it to the young man who, in turn, took a bite. The young man handed the apple to the older man, who then tossed it into the bonfire, sending multicolored sparks throughout the party, almost like fireworks. The man said words that held no meaning to me, but I feared that to Zinnia, they held all the meaning in the world.
Everyone clapped their hands and hooted and hollered, and the music, the glorious, wonderful music, began once again.
They all began dancing in a circle, linking hands, and round and round they went.
Then it occurred to me. No way. “Oh, this couldn't possibly beeee,” I whined aloud.
I think what I'd just witnessed…was a wedding. My sister’s wedding. It was then that I tried to yell out my protest, but it was too late. In my stupor, I had just watched them get married. I stared ahead in disbelief, all the while enjoying the revelry and music.
What would I do now? I pulled myself away, sitting with my back against the tree. It somehow comforted me.
I had just lost my sister. Perhaps this could somehow be fixed? But something told me that once it was done, it was done. Then again, it's not like she had permission. She was only eighteen years old. Or did she even need permission? After all, who was going to tell the Fae what they could and couldn't do? Oh boy.
How would I explain this to Gran? To Aunt Cora and Aunt Clover? How would I explain it to Father if I ever got him back?
I sat there staring up into the tree canopy. I wanted to cry, but the music wouldn't let me; my foot started to tap instead. The music had started to well up inside me, pulling me in. It reverberated throughout my body and mind, lifting my spirits. Despite the sadness I felt, I smiled. As I began to peer around the tree, the strangest thing happened. I felt compelled to dance, but I couldn't yet. Instead, I was floating. Up. Up. Up. Head over heels, I was doing circles in the air. It felt like I was swimming, and the air was my water. Then I stopped midair, hovering, unable to move forward or backward, and so I did the only thing that I could do and looked down. They all stood in a circle, looking up at me. Zinnia waved, but I couldn't move my arm to wave back.
Slowly, I was brought down into the circle amongst them, and soon, I could move my limbs again. Two Fae, one on either side of me, grabbed my hand, and their skin felt cool to the touch.
Once again, the dancing began. I wasn't moving my legs, though; I had no control over them. They were moving on their own accord, and we were dancing faster and faster, spinning in circles, dancing the night away.
Zinnia was opposite me in the big circle, smiling, laughing, and holding her husband’s hand. Once, he moved her hand in front of his face and kissed it. They looked at one another, and for a moment, I could actually see the chemistry between them, in pinkish hues. There was some sort of pull, some sort of energy.
Even when she looked away, he would still be watching her, all the while still dancing.
Zinnia looked at me and then smiled. I beamed a smile back at her. There was no time for despair and regret in this circle of dance. It was all about happiness—at least for now. Or was it the music that had me fooled?
As the night went on, we danced to the majestic music, my feet doing fancy footwork that I never dreamed possible. It reminded me of the Irish dancers, and if I thought they were amazing—which I did—then I wish they could see me now. I was flying right through the moves!
The man to my right gave me a generous smile; his handsome features were glowing in the light. The lady to the left of me wore a cream-colored gown with ruby-colored embroidery and rubies around the bodice and hemline. The dress, even though ground length, never seemed to quite hit the ground. I had to look out of curiosity, bending low, all the while my feet continued with their hippity-hopping. Lo and behold, the hem had not a speck of dirt upon it! What a wonder?
Delighted, I danced on and on. I didn't even try to stop and I never got tired, but it all seemed to come to an end way too soon. After a while, I was swept back up into the night sky and floating high above the treetops right toward the bridge. They all waved at me, and I waved back. But I had lost sight of Zinnia and her husband; in fact, I don't recall when I saw them last.
I could see the ground below me, the many lights off in the distance. The endless dark trees.
Whatever happened next, I cannot recall. I believe I passed out, and I awoke to the singing of the birds. It was almost time for the sun to rise, and I could feel the cool grass covered in dew against my arms and face.
I pushed myself up from the ground, rubbing my head. My neck hurt, and I had definitely slept wrong on the hard ground. It took a few seconds to focus, but I glanced toward the bridge to see that a light foggy mist lingered at the entrance. A fox ran through the mist, and disappeared from sight. And it was almost as if he had went from one world, into the next. But that was crazy. Or was it?
It didn’t matter. I had more important things to deal with this morning. Where was Zinnia?
But I couldn�
��t peel my eyes from the white wooden bridge. This morning the paint appeared old and faded, but I continued to look, as if doing so might give me some answers. Nothing but woods stared back at me.
What had happened last night? Did I really dance amongst the Regal Fae? The Seelie? Was my sister really married now?
“You're awake.”
I bolted up straighter than a stick, and turned to see Drumm sitting on the ground, his legs out before him and feet crossed.
“How did you get there? You scared the crap outta me!” But I didn’t give him time to answer. I was too worried about Zinnia.
“My sister. She—”
“I saw you walking across the bridge last night, when I was out doing my rounds. I yelled for you, but you acted as though you couldn't hear me. After you crossed the bridge, I followed, but I couldn't find you. You must have walked into a private party of the Fae.”
“I sure did. I think Zinnia got married last night.” I realized I was panting from worry, and forced myself to stop.
“Ha! The Fae never get married. But they can bond with humans occasionally. But nothing is ever solid with them.”
“Well, what do I do?” I squealed. He appeared so calm, that I realized I would trust anything he had to say.
He stood up, holding his hand out, and I reached up and accepted it.
“Nothing you can do. Not right now,” Drumm said.
“Do nothing?” Panic threatened to rise up inside me once again. I'd just witnessed something horrible, my sister's wedding, and I hadn't even cared. At the time, I thought it was a splendid idea!
“Their music entices you, glamorizes you. There was nothing you could do,” he said.
I had to see Izadora, and I said as much.
“You can't see Izadora. She's unavailable right now. After the sun is fully up, we shall go to her.”
“Why do we have to wait?” I was tired of hearing that crap.
“We just do,” he said.
We were in an open field. The sun had just begun to rise, and all we could see for thousands of feet were wildflowers, including black-eyed Susans, daisies, purple asters, and lots of milkweed. Walking through the field, I had an uncanny feeling that I'd been here before. I had been five or six, and…I had been dancing in circles with someone.
Memories flooded my mind, and all of a sudden I remembered something in particular. My father had brought me here several times. I turned to look at the bridge one last time. We had always walked to a field with a white bridge.
“I've been here before,” I said.
“Does that surprise you? Your father always used to wander these woods. Of course he'd bring you here,” he said.
“Have you met him then? My father, I mean,” I said.
“I've seen plenty of him,” Drumm said.
I could tell he was observing my expression. I did a circle, scanning the field, and it all came back to me. There I was, a young girl, excited to meet my playmate. I'd seen this playmate a few times before, and we had the best of times, dancing around under the heat of the sun, searching through nature, and finding colorful butterflies and interesting rocks. We had watched bees flit from flower to flower and listened to the sound of the stream close by.
“It was you,” I said softly.
“What was?” he asked.
“You were the boy my father used to bring me here to play with.”
He looked up at the sun, the beginning of its rise surrounded in beautiful pastels. The morning breeze fluttered through my hair, causing me to shiver.
“I thought you'd never remember,” he finally said.
“I vaguely do…but I know that it was you.”
He had a slight grin on his face now, and he picked a daisy. “You used to love picking the petals from these. And you’d play, ‘he loves me—he loves me not.’ We did have a great time, didn't we?
I almost felt a sense of…relief. Like I had just discovered some long lost treasure. “Why did I forget this until now?”
He paused as if he were thinking of the best way to answer.
“They made you forget. Your grandmother thought it would be for the best. And then they made you move from here to New Hampshire, I heard.”
“Why should they want me to forget such wonderful childhood memories?”
“They thought it would be best to forget. And they say sometimes your past comes back to haunt you, so, better for you to just forget the past, and then you don't have to deal with it. But some things you just can't ever forget. Like your long-lost best friend.”
He smiled and put the flower behind my ear. It was a nice, friendly gesture. But I’d be lying to myself if I didn’t admit that I felt something stir in my belly…like butterflies.
He walked off across the field and toward the path at a brisk pace, and I followed.
“They took you away, but I stayed just for you, always awaiting your return. I watched you every time you'd visit your grandparents. I watched you from the wood line. When my family moved, I stayed behind with Izadora. Just to one day be with you again.”
“I don't know what to say. I—”
“Don't say anything. Let’s just go.” And he was off. I trailed right behind him and soon caught up to him, running at full speed. He was fast as heck. And he was barefoot.
I don't know what came over me. Maybe it was the fact that I too wanted to feel the earth connect with my feet. I stopped and took off my shoes, throwing them into a ditch.
What he'd just told me had fried my brain. All these years, when I returned to Gran's, he had been watching me? When his family moved, he stayed for me? Somehow, that infuriated me, and it made me feel awesome at the same time. I had to learn more. My own father used to bring me to dance in the fields with Drumm. Why would he do this and then put an end to it?
We ran for miles, and he wouldn't stop until we arrived in Izadora's territory.
“Tell me more,” I demanded. I was a bit winded, but his breathing never changed.
“Another time,” he said, “let’s head inside.”
I paused and didn’t move forward as I realized I would have to inform him of my failure to get the rolling pin. He noticed that I wasn’t following him and he turned to say, “C’mon. Let’s go. A while ago you couldn’t wait to get here.”
In my brief moments of shock I had managed to forget all about the rolling pin. When your sister just up and marries into a race of super-beings…you tend to forget some things.
“Actually, we can't go in. I don't have the rolling pin.” My face fell toward to the ground as I realized the full failure of my mission.
“Of course you don't. A bird retrieved it, right? She does have command over the birds, you know. You didn't expect to have to guard it all night, did you? She's got the rolling pin up here.” He shook his head like I was stupid.
I rolled my eyes, and sighed. “Someone could have informed me of that, couldn't they? Why must I find these things out on my own?” I felt relieved that she had the rolling pin but ticked that they didn't tell me an eagle would swoop down and steel it from my grasp.
He didn’t bother to answer and walked off toward the tree house.
A rope hung from the balcony down past the tree. He hit it out of the way and ran to the steps where the dogs lay at the base.
“So, the dogs always remain here, no matter what?” I observed.
“They never leave at night. They must always guard Izadora.”
“From what I have been hearing, it seems as though she can guard herself.”
“Not at night.”
We climbed the stairs and walked over the bridge and arrived at Izadora's door. Drumm knocked, and a beautiful young woman answered. Her hair was a pretty auburn, and her sparkling eyes were a brilliant blue. She must be some sort of maid or something.
“Oh,” I said. “We are looking for Izadora.”
Drumm snickered.
The beautiful woman looked me in the eyes, and said, “Come in.” She waved us on.
“I am Izadora.”
Chapter Sixteen
The morning sunshine spilled into the room, casting golden rays over the lavender walls. A few screenless windows were open, permitting a crisp breeze to pass into the room, ruffling the herbs and flowers upon the sills. The earthy smell of herbs wafted through the house.
“Let me explain my current situation,” Izadora said. “I certainly don't mind being sprite and young, but as the day goes on, I grow older and older, courtesy of my brother, Izaill, and his wicked curse. To top it off, I must do something gruesome each evening at sundown. It is called the mother-maiden-crone curse.” She sat opposite me in a plush white chair. Her posture was one of royalty, with her spine straight, legs crossed at the ankle, and hands in lap.
“I get it. Like the maiden, you are youthful and energetic. Then you are like the mother, getting older, and used to the world. Finally you are the old woman, old and wise, and then—”
“I die.” She sighed.
Dawning on me, I realized what she meant. “You must die every single evening?”
“Correct. And it's not a pleasant time, I must inform you,” she said.
“She must—” Drumm started to say.
“Well, let's not get into what I must do. Let me just explain to you that I am entirely sick of this curse, and I need you to get me one more thing before I can end it.”
I swallowed hard. Thoughts of Magella and her orange-red eyes and water-logged face came to mind. “I don't know if I can go back there…to Magella's.”
“Oh, hogwash. I do not intend to send you back to that old hag's residence.” She smoothed her wavy red hair and then carefully placed her hands back in her lap. “No, no. I will ask you to…” She smiled, revealing pearly teeth. One eyetooth overlapped the large front one beside it, giving her smile an exotic, striking appearance.
“Well?” I said.
“I intend to send you to my mother's grave. You must dig up the grave and find me the yellow ribbon. It will most likely be pinned to her dress.”