by B. J. Smash
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. I could feel the cool grass covered in dew against my arms and face.
I pushed myself up from the ground, rubbing my head. I had definitely slept wrong on the hard ground. It took a few seconds to focus. A light foggy mist lingered by the bridge as a fox ran into the forest line.
Where could Zinnia be this morning? I looked over the white wooden bridge. This morning the paint appeared old and faded, but I looked, 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 turned to see Drumm sitting on the ground, his legs out before him and feet crossed.
“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.”
“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?”
He stood up, holding his hand out and pulling me up.
“Nothing you can do. Not right now,” Drumm said.
Panic rose up inside me. 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 sunup we will go to her.”
“Why do we have to wait for sunup?” 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 Susan, daisies, and purple asters. Walking through the field, I had an uncanny feeling that I'd been here before. I had been five or six, dancing in circles with someone.
Memories flooded my mind. 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; 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 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 ensconced 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. He picked up a daisy. “You used to love picking the petals from these. And we did have a grand time, didn't we?”
“Why did I forget this until now?”
He paused as if to think of a 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 best friend.”
He smiled and put the flower behind my ear, walking off across the field and toward the path at a brisk pace.
“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. I bet you've never found anyone that can beat you in running.” And he was off. I followed him and soon caught up to him, running at full speed. He was fast as hell. I had never met another person who could rival my speed, 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.
“Another time,” he said.
“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.
“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.
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 until we reached 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. “Come in.” She waved us on. “I am Izadora.”
Chapter Sixteen
The room filled with morning sunshine, casting light shards 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 smell of mint 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 baneful 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 stature 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 convey 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 angry 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.”
Squirming in my seat, I uncrossed one leg and crossed the other. My hands held firm to the arms of the chair. “To—to your mother's what?” I knew what she said, but I had to clarify.
“Grave,” both Drumm and Izadora said simultaneously.
“Grave,” I whispered under my breath. Now she expected me to dig up and rob a grave. “A grave robber,” I said bluntly.
Izadora smiled her enchanting smile once again.
“I can go with you, but you must dig up the grave yourself,” Drumm said.
Feeling some relief that he would be able to come along, I wagered in my mind what I would gain if I did this. “My father will then be rescued?”
“Once this spell is removed, there is nothing stopping me,” she said.
Thoughts of my father flooded my mind. Our family vacations. Our life back in New Hampshire, and how he used to cook my sister and I crepes and fill them with ice cream. Tons of thoughts filled my mind. I only needed to retrieve a yellow ribbon from an old woman's grave.
“Are you sure this will be the last thing I have to do?” I asked.
“Absolutely,” she said, raising her chin in the air.
“I'll do it. I do have one question though, about my sister,” I said.
“Ask it,” Izadora said with a nod of her head. Her gorgeous auburn hair shone in the sunlight from the opening in the roof.
“I think I just witnessed her wedding to someone or some…Fae. Is there any hope in getting her back as well?”
“Explain to me what you saw.”
I explained the dancing group of fantastic beings and the man cutting into the apple, my sister and the young man biting the apple, and then the tossing of the apple into the bonfire.
“Certainly sounds like a ceremony. If, in fact, you saw her getting married…I must inform you that the Fae do not marry. She may be bound to that Fae being for a time, by the right of a ritual, but she is not married to him. While normally one cannot interfere with their ways, there may be something that I, myself, can do. But first, the ribbon. I must have the ribbon.”
I could accept that. I had no doubt she could pull some strings with the Fae beings.
Izadora stared at me, waiting for an answer. I looked to Drumm, who gave me a half smile. His eyes sparkled in the sun from the window; they were so turquoise that they dazzled me for a moment.
“Of course I will do it,” I said.
“Excellent,” Izadora said. She stood and embarked on cutting herbs from different plants with what looked like a bone knife. “I will make you a charm to take with you.”
“Nice,” I said sarcastically. I had it in my mind that this wasn't going to be an easy task.
“Oh, don't pout. All you must do is go to the McCallister graveyard, by the old church. She won't be buried in that graveyard though. You must step out beyond the fence to the unconsecrated land. There, she will be buried. Underneath a white hawthorn tree.”
I sank in my chair, wiping the sweat from my palms onto my pants. I never had liked the word unconsecrated. It was one of the key ingredients for a good horror movie. I couldn't believe what I'd just agreed to do. Also, Gran had warned me to stay out of the graveyard, but it couldn't be helped. I had to finish what I started.
“Why is she in unconsecrated ground?” I felt stupid for asking. Hadn't GG Edmund explained that Izadora's mother Augusta, aka Aggie, was some sort of a witch? But her answer shocked me.
“Oh, Mother…well, it's Izaill's fault. He's the one who buried her. He can't step onto consecrated ground. That would be an abomination to those buried on consecrated ground,” she said as she scurried around, cutting fresh herbs.
Drumm smirked. He then got up to get a drink of water.
My palms would not stop sweating, and I continually wiped them on my pants. I would have to do what I would have to do. There was no way around it.
“Just a question. You're cutting fresh herbs for a charm…I thought that, um, people that made charms used dried herbs, not fresh ones.” I hadn't dared to call her a witch.
She laughed. “Why use dried ones, when you can use fresh? The essence is most vibrant when they are fresh.”
Drumm gulped down a whole glass of water. He then offered me a glass, to which I accepted. “I'll be back in a short time. I must check on something,” Drum said, and he excused himself.
As Izadora scurried about, my eyes grew heavy, and I must have fallen asleep in the chair. When I awoke, the glass I had been holding sat upon an end table. A tray of scones, celery, and tea sat in front of me.
“It's good you slept. You needed the rest,” a raspy old voice said.
I glanced over to the table to see an older woman, maybe in her midsixties. Her hair was now gray with a few strands of red. I gasped, which made her laugh.
“The day has already taken its toll. I grow older, just as I do every day,” Izadora said.
“What time is it?”
“Oh, I don't go by the time, but you humans must use the watch, so I am guessing it is around two thirty.”
“Two thirty! I slept that long?”
“Yes, you have. The boy has come and gone a few times. I insisted you get your rest. He shall be back shortly to escort you out of the woods,” she said.
Wrinkles had formed above her brow, and lines had started to form around her mouth. Her once silky smooth, glowing skin was now a dull, pallid color, and brown spots appeared under her eyes.
“Eat up. You shall need some sort of sustenance,” she said.
Picking up a cherry scone, I dipped it in my tea and took a bite. They surely were scrumptious, and I had to believe the aunts would like to have this recipe. Before Drumm arrived back, I had eaten three different kinds of scones and drank two cups of tea. Even the tea tasted better here—the bloodless tea, anyway.
We left with instructions to come back before sunset to pick up Izadora's shovel. Apparently I would need a special shovel for the quest (as I liked to think of it) that I would be engaging in.
Drumm and I went on a long run before he brought me to Ian's gate. And to my surprise, there Ian sat, his head nodding to the side with the newspaper lying in his lap.
“Ian,” I said, “open the gate.”
He jolted upright. “I didn't do it.” He had been dreaming, and apparently had a guilty conscience. Then his eyes focused on me. “Oh, Ivy! I fell asleep. I had the weirdest dreams.”
The gate creaked as he opened it. Then he sat rubbing his eyes, yawning.
“What were you dreaming of? Did your hand get stuck in the cookie jar?” I asked.
“Ha! Not at all. But this beautiful woman had me tied to a chair…and, well, she tried to tape my mouth shut,” he said.
“Never mind. I don't want to know,”
I replied.
“Hello, Drumm,” Ian said as he waved.
Drumm nodded and said to me, “I'll see you here at the gate around six, okay?”
I said yes, and he took off like a fox after a jackrabbit.
“So, did you have a good time in the forest?” Ian asked sarcastically.
“No,” I said.
“I didn't think as much. Tell me.”
“My sister married some Fae guy, and I danced with them for most of the night to the sound of this exalting music that I could never explain or replicate. I couldn't stop myself, and my feet moved on their own accord, in complete union with them. I would have stayed with them forever, had they not flown me back over the bridge and dumped me on the ground. No. Not a good time in the forest.”
“Typical stuff. Well, you mustn’t grieve. A similar occurrence happened to my sister once. Izardora assisted in her return, but things didn't turn out so well for her.” He wheeled on through the luscious gardens; everything was in full bloom, and the sun was shining, with not a cloud to be seen. Then he said a bit softer, “Now she's dead.”
Barely catching the latter part of his sentence, I said, “What happened to her?” It stunned me to hear that his sister had once experienced something similar.
“Ah, well, she ran off with someone from that group of Fae beings, and I rode my horse down to find her. Saw the wedding, heard the music. Been there, done that. But I never danced with them, and it was right before the accident—right before I lost the use of my legs. Afterward, I lost some of my hearing. I agree, it was the most beautiful tune I'd ever heard. I came away unscathed mentally, I suppose. But my sister—she was never the same for the fact that nothing will ever replace the feelings she had when she was in their company. It's almost as if she went to heaven and back. The longer you are there, the less you want to return. And if you do return, you long to be back…with them.”
“How did she die?”
“Well, long story short, she went back for him. She found him, but they were both shot in the back with poisoned arrows. Apparently, the Unseelie Fae were out and about that day. They can't stand to see anyone happy. It makes them jealous because they are pathetic,” he said bitterly.