Summer bit back tears as she flung her arms around his neck and hoped this wasn’t her imagination playing games. It was too good to be true.
From behind them where she sat, Sophie spoke without thinking. “It isn’t your blasted imagination, just kiss the man and again and be thankful, for heaven’s sake.” Everyone turned to look at her. She covered her mouth with her hand and snickered. “Did I say that aloud? Oops.”
The room was alive again with giddiness as the coven looked into their future with fresh eyes.
Chapter 24
Summer dreamed for the second time that night. She was in a glen, lush with green grass. A stream glowed a dark green flowed through the middle. Silver deer, a buck and doe, bent their heads to drink. Bears of the same shade rambled on the edge of the enchanted forest that fenced in the glen.
At the topmost point of the expanse was a castle. Lively music came from inside, filling the wilderness with sound. Summer sank her toes into the spongy grass as she walked up a flagstone path that led to the door of the master architecture. The stone was flecked with different colors in burnished reds, greens and gold.
She reached the door and touched the stone the castle was built in. It matched the flagstone she had just walked upon. The large brass handle was cool to the touch as she pulled to open it. Inside, a gold foyer glittered. A staircase led upwards on each side and below their meeting point at the landing above were double doors. She walked towards them. Again, she pulled on heavy handles to gain entrance. She was immersed in festive tunes, watching a party get under way.
The decorations bursting from everywhere signified some sort of celebration. Confetti of silver drifted in the air. It looked like Cinderella’s ball. Beautiful men and women with small wings danced and laughed. There were subtle points at the tops of their ears and their eyes slanted upwards. Fairies! She was in a fairy kingdom.
The music stopped and all the fairies scooted towards the center of the ballroom, in front of a sequined curtain. As one, they all dropped to one knee. Summer mimicked them and did the same. As the curtains parted, a throne came to view. This one wasn’t made of bones. This one was inlayed with gold and silver and carved with symbols. It was the most astonishing sight Summer had ever seen. But, that thought fell dead as she realized a man sat in it. The man was tall, lean with a bare chest. His dark hair fell down his back, below his shoulders.
Throughout his mane were braids weaved with gold and silver satin ribbons. His wings were a dark blue, like the twilight sky. Like the other fairies, his eyes were slightly slanted, his ears pointed, but as he stood up, his imposing form showed the difference between him and his kingdom.
His eyes fell on Summer and she held her breath, knowing she had just been caught trespassing. “Death-speaker, rise.” She had no choice but to obey, his voice demanded it.
“You do not kneel before me.”
Perplexed, Summer nodded without looking up.
“I have brought you here to thank you.”
Summer’s head snapped up. “You brought me here?”
The fairy king smiled, big and kind. “Yes, nobody enters here without my invitation.” He held a scepter in his hand; the color matched his midnight wings. “Please, come closer.”
Summer made her way to the front of the fairies and came to stop in front of the majestic fairy king. “I am Finvarra, King of the Underworld.” Summer let out an audible gasp and put her hand to her mouth, suddenly afraid in his presence.
“Do not be afraid. I don’t hurt anyone who does not call it upon themselves. In fact, I have brought you here, organized this celebration in your honor.”
“Did you truly?” Summer stammered out.
“I knew the trouble Alsandair had been brewing, but, you see, I am forbidden from interfering in certain matters, especially when they involve certain magical mortals.” Finvarra stepped closer. “I want to thank you for saving my kingdom.”
Summer kept her head down. “You’re welcome.”
“Your lover was right, you know. I would not have been pleased to have been summoned. I detest the mortal world and only visit to cause trouble one day a year. I can’t stand much more than that. It’s become a disgusting place, full of self involved mortals and the pain they cause.”
“There are some beautiful things also.” Summer replied quietly.
“Indeed, and you are one of them. It’s mortals like you whom I hope rise and band together, reclaim your world and make it right again.”
Summer lifted her chin. “I’ll do all I can with the time I have left in the mortal world.”
Finvarra nodded. “I know you will.” He stepped from the pedestal and moved to the center of his fairy population, turned back to Summer. “Now I want you to celebrate your victory. Celebrate as only a fairy can, for one night.” He held his scepter out, parallel with Summer’s body and muttered something.
Warmth started in her shoulder blades and tickled until, from the corner of her eyes she saw the tips of wings. Her wings! She looked at Finvarra, questioning her transformation.
“They are yours tonight. Fly.”
She focused on her red wings and they began to flap, carrying her off the ground. Above the fairies, Summer flung her head back and celebrated her survival as fairy wings fluttered behind her.
****
Cayden listened intently as Summer recounted the events in her dream. He was intrigued to know that Summer had had the chance to be a fairy under the rule of Finvarra. Cayden told the history of Finvarra, the fairy king of the underworld. He was known as something of a womanizer, gossip of his kidnapping of mortal women spread through magical communities, spurring some of the fear that people had of him. He was also rumored to ensure good harvests, strong horses.
Originating from Ireland, Finvarra led a group of the Tuatha, a magical race. After being defeated by the Milesians, a warring race, most of the Tuatha fled Ireland, but Finvarra elected to stay. His band of outcasts became the Daione Sidhe and negotiated a truce where they were allowed to stay in Ireland as long as they remained underground. They eventually became known as fairy folk. Respected and feared, mortals would ask for their permission and even their guidance before building any new structures or changing the landscape.
Summer speculated that some of the stories might be hear-say and Cayden agreed. “Oh, there are so many different and varying theories on his history and existence that we could be here all day discussing it.”
They sat at the kitchen table, hovering over their breakfast dishes. Touching, kissing, never wanting to let go of each other. They had spent another long night loving. Without rush, they sampled and lingered over every part of each other’s bodies, savoring the feel of being one again.
A flitter in Summer’s abdomen gave her a jolt.
“What was that?” Cayden asked.
Summer looked down, not remembering moving her hand to her stomach. “I have no idea.”
“You got that same look that I saw before we did the first summons.” He got up, grabbed both their plates and dumped them in the sink. “Your hand flew to your stomach then, too.”
Summer shrugged, walked to him and threw her arms around his neck, pressing her breasts into his muscled back. “Anyway, as much as I’d like to discuss fairies, I can’t. I have one more minor detail to take care of.”
As he scrubbed the dishes, he asked, “What minor detail are we talking about?”
“A certain ghost is still waiting patiently for my help.” She turned on her heel, blowing a kiss as she walked out of the kitchen.
****
The divers had surfaced with the bones in minutes. She knew it wouldn’t be a long search, considering she had pinpointed the exact location of the grave. She watched as they carried the remains to shore, laying them gently down in the spot where Frances’ life had expired. The same dress Frances wore in spirit was there in this realm, tattered and hanging from the blackened ivory of the bones in clumps.
One arm had yet to be brought
up from the moss and murk. The county coroner, a man named James, moved to her side. He held a monogrammed handkerchief over his mouth and nose. He exuded old world southern class. His voice lilting in an accent Summer could easily imagine rising an octave to bellow at a servant. She didn’t like him, not at all. His close proximity gave her goose bumps.
“An awful shame, this.” He looked down at Frances’ remains, shaking his head. “Now, I know I asked you on the phone, but I’m not quite sure if I got it right.” He still held the frilly piece of cotton over his mouth, making every word jumble together. “How did you come about these remains, Ms. Peters?”
“As I said on the phone, I had taken a walk down here and fallen in. When I tried to get out, my shoe got stuck in the bottom of the swamp. I reached into to get it and felt the bones.”
“So, you knew what you were feeling were bones?” David had taken the fabric from away from his face, showing off his handlebar mustache. His round belly contracted in the suit he wore. Summer guessed he was having trouble with the afternoon heat pressing down on them.
“Again, as I said on the phone, they were still in the same position as they had been when she was put there. It was as if she had just lain down. The first thing my hand touched was the skull and as I followed it, my mind connected with what it was.” Summer blew out a breath, blowing a curl out of her face. She nodded towards Frances’ bones, “And you just confirmed it.”
David took out a small notepad from the front pocket of his shirt, began taking notes. Without looking up, he uttered, “Thank you, Ms. Peters that will be all.”
Summer turned to leave, feeling confident Frances’ earthly body was in good hands. Feeling feisty, she stopped, turned to the coroner. “I suggest you trade in that cute little bowtie and button down shirt for something a bit cooler.” Summer grabbed the front of her shirt, fanning herself off. “It’s hotter than a witch in hell out here.”
Laughing to herself, she stepped back into the inn’s domain.
The coroner stood, shocked at the mouth on the woman. One of his team leaned in and asked, “Who is that?”
“That, my friend, is nothing but trouble.”
****
Summer made the trip back to the bayou after a few days. She had stood at the cemetery the day before, crying as Frances’ body was finally interred in a tomb. Inscribed underneath a statue of a fierce woman, were the words, “Frances, Guardian of the Bayou”. She had a feeling Frances wouldn’t care about the dates, but intended to dig until she found Frances story buried under years of cover-ups and concealment. The coven had come, offering what condolences they could. Cayden had held her hand through it all.
She stepped through and saw that Frances was already waiting for her. “Hello.”
“Hi, Frances.” Summer sat down, pulling her knees to her chest. Frances joined her, sitting next to her like any normal friend would.
“I saw my burial, Summer. I was there. It was beautiful. I can’t thank you enough.”
“Do you feel any different?” Summer asked.
“Yes, I feel a sort of peace. The constant ache in my chest is gone.”
Summer smiled. “I’m so glad.”
Frances looked at her. “I didn’t like that man you were speaking to when the came to get me.” She shook her head. “There was something…off about him. He looked oddly familiar.”
“Yeah, I sensed it to. I knew he was a jerk from the moment he said hello on the phone.”
“Whatever he’s about, I have a feeling it’s not good.” Frances remarked.
“Me too,” Summer replied.
“So, how are you doing?”
Summer laughed at Frances’ off hand question. “It’s a little weird to have a conversation with a dead woman.
“I know, but get used to it, you’re the only one who can hear me. And if you don’t visit, I’ll find a way to haunt you until you do.” She laughed. It echoed in Summer’s ears. It was a great sound.
“Have you any plans for a family?” Frances asked.
“Uh….Cayden and I haven’t really talked about it much.” Summer looked at Frances, wondering if she knew something that Summer didn’t.
“I was just wondering.” Frances shrugged and floated back over the water. “I will let you get home to your love.”
Summer stood to leave, brushed the butt of her sweatpants off.
“Oh, Summer?” The spirit’s voice stopped her.
“Yes?”
“Will you live a little for me?”
Smiling, Summer responded. “I certainly will, Frances. I most certainly will.”
Epilogue
Summer arrived at the house, expecting Cayden, but got the whole coven instead.
“Surprise!” They all screamed.
Summer almost fainted as she grew dizzy on her feet and leaned into the wall for support. Cayden rushed to her, asking if she was okay in his usual fashion. “I’m fine you just really took me by surprise.” She laughed.
Sophie squeezed to the front of the parlor and said, “We wanted to throw you a proper Cajun party!”
“Oh, really? Thanks, you guys.” Feeling steady again, she moved further into the house, saying hi as she passed everyone.
She put her hands up and exclaimed, “Well, where’s the music?”
The members laughed and dispersed. Catching Sophie by the arm, Summer asked, “Sophie, you wouldn’t happen to be keeping any pertinent information from me, now would you?”
Indignant, Sophie replied. “What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean. Is there something you know…about me?”
Sophie took her in one of her famous bear hugs and said, “The only thing I can tell you is that you will live and love, happily. Isn’t that enough?” Sophie let go, held her at an arm’s length.
“I have a feeling you know more than you’re letting on.” Summer cocked an eyebrow at her, folded her arms.
“Aren’t some things better left to fate, Cherie? Or have you learned nothing?”
Summer took a deep breath and realized that pumping Sophie for any future insights was a waste of time. She felt something, though. A beginning or perhaps a new life, maybe it was her own life she felt was just beginning. After all, she had never had this much to look forward to.
***
After the party dwindled down, Summer sat, contemplated her life and what was to become of it. The move into Cayden’s house hadn’t been hard, since most pf her belongings traveled with her. She did have some stuff in a storage unit up north that she would have to have shipped.
Summer could hear Cayden in the kitchen, cleaning up. After sitting her on the couch with Faline’s book, he had insisted she read or take a break while he picked the house up. She must be dreaming. What a man.
Frances’ request had stayed with her all day, through the party and still sang in her soul. Live a little for me. Summer brought to mind all the souls she had helped, had known. Elena with her never-ending determination and Adam, the depressed young man whom Alsandair fed on, even Scotty, the boy who had fell while playing baseball. Though they were safe where they were and maybe happier, they would never live again. They would never feel their pulse quickening with a kiss. They would never again feel their skin warm as the sun dusted their faces.
All the things that Summer had, right here, for the taking. Things she had taken for granted her whole life. It was time to live, not only for herself, but for those who weren’t able to. What was the point in shoving things to the back burner, hoping to one day do it, see it or be it? Why not do it now? That was what she would do.
She stood up, walked to the doorway of the kitchen. “I’m going to run out for a bit, pick some things up. Do you need anything while I’m gone?”
Cayden wiped his hands on a towel and spared a glance over his shoulder. “I don’t think so. What are you getting?”
“Some shorts!” Summer seized her wallet off the table as she headed out to seize the day.
Eight Mo
nths Later
The autumn equinox was in full swing. A masquerade crowded the main street. Townsfolk in masks and costumes drank, ate and talked as they watched the parade flow through the heart of the town. Little girls danced around the legs of their parents in witch costumes, streamers coming out of the tips of their pointed hats. A pair of little boys played tag with skeleton masks on, one pretending to shoot the other as he held his stomach and died a fake death in front of The Enchanted Attic.
The coven or “Community Committee” as they had begun to call themselves had organized the event. They had spared no expense on decorations. The balconies were littered with every streamer, string of beads and garnish they could find.
Pumpkins in every shape and size sat on each door stoop, their grimaces and scowls lighting the cobblestone sidewalk. Bales of hay had been set up to allow for more seating or a soft place for a sleeping child. Blues was carried on the wind, radiating from the bar located in the middle of the main street. The band inside had kept people on their feet all day long.
Paper cut outs that depicted spirits and ghosts were taped to the inside of the windows that lined the walk. From the concession table, Sophie watched as Summer and Cayden held on to each other across the street.
“Isn’t that just beautiful?” Lurleene asked.
Sophie hooked her arm in her friends elbow. “Yes, ma’am, I do believe it is.”
“Tell me the truth, did you know?” Lurleene glimpsed Summer, leaning back into her husband’s chest, his hands rested snugly on her swollen belly.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Sophie said incredulously.
“Sophie, you old bag of bones! Sometimes you infuriate me, do you know that?”
Sophie stooped to pick up a Styrofoam cup, filled it with cider. “Yes, I know that. But, I know your secrets, so there isn’t a damn thing you can do about it.” Sophie snorted as she held out the cup of cider to a boy who was patiently waiting for refreshment.
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