by Elle Wolcott
“What about it?”
“I, um,” he looked forward, his brow flicking up in regret. “I stole it from someone.”
The light turned green and he went on toward the city.
“So, this necklace that supposedly kept me safe while you were doing whatever it was you were doing over in Europe, was never yours to give away?”
“Irene, please hear me out,” he gripped the wheel.
“No,” I laughed at him. “Do you even know what this is?” I dangled the stone and it caught more of the sunlight now as we traveled down the open road. “It’s magical.”
Cole smirked like I was being ridiculous, but I could tell he must have already known. Why else did he give it to me for protection?
“How do you know about magic anyway?”
“What, like the little spells your aunt does?” he mocked.
“Cole, I’m serious. Where did this come from? How did you know it was a protection amulet?”
He licked his lips again and stared at the road.
I shook my head at him.
“What happened to you?”
“I already told you.”
“No, you said you wouldn’t tell me.”
“Exactly.”
I faced forward and crossed my arms.
“Do you love her?”
Cole turned to me and nearly ran into the grass. Quickly, he found the road and steadied the car.
“You’re very dangerous, you know,” I yelled, gripping the seat tight.
“Do you?” he looked at me, briefly that time.
“She wants it back, doesn’t she?”
“It wasn’t hers,” he said as he turned onto the bridge. “It came from somewhere else.”
“But she wants it.”
He nodded.
“Is she in trouble?”
“Sort of.”
I lifted the leather cord from my neck, over my head, and let my hair fall loose as the amulet swayed before me. For a moment, I couldn’t believe it was off me. I glanced over the knot at the end and realized that I had worn out the cording. It was beginning to unravel and might need to be repaired. My eyes swelled as I let the reality settle in. We were detached, separated; the stone was staring back at me from afar. I wanted to tell it goodbye, to part with it in a positive way. When Cole parked in the alley behind the bookstore, however, I just stepped out of the car and left the necklace on the seat.
“Irene, wait!” he called as he jumped out of his car.
“I’m tired of waiting,” I said with my hand on the door to my car. “I’ve been waiting for you for too long.”
“I didn’t realize—”
“Yes, you did,” I shot back. “I didn’t think you were ever coming home.”
“I never said I wouldn’t.”
“You hardly said a word,” I stepped up. “Things don’t always make sense, but you have to try. You never try.”
“That’s not fair.”
“Life isn’t fair, Cole. But it is what you make of it. You left and things happened. Now you’re here. What are you going to do?”
He blinked as the wind whipped through the alley and pulled the loose leaves from the pavement toward Main Street.
“Take it to her. She needs it more than me. And it isn’t because you’re here to protect me. It’s because…” and I hesitated to say. I wanted to share my magic with everyone I loved, but it wasn’t easy. It’s not like I could just go around and show off my element. Magical beings didn’t act that way. “I’m stronger than you think.”
Cole’s brow lifted and he got ready to reply, but I didn’t let him.
“I’ll see you around,” I said, and I got in my car and shut the door.
Chapter Eight
Down the street from the bookstore was a coffee shop called Beanies. My friends and I would often meet there throughout the week and indulge in way-too-big coffees and decadent pastries. I got a pumpkin latte, then found a seat by the window.
Watching the sun fall behind wispy clouds, I tried to read through the book my aunt had given me. The pages were handwritten by my great-grandmother just like a journal. There were little notes here and there, and a few scribbles and sketches too. It explained who she was growing up and how her people revered her. She was born with a birthmark that declared her as the Lady of Frostmoor—the isle where the dragons lived. She didn’t write a lot about the place, but what she did made me want to go there.
I flipped through the pages quickly, consuming her words like water. The evening turned to night and my latte was gone. The book, though, had just begun to share its secrets. Dragons aged well, living longer lives than humans. They healed quickly and were strong and able to fly with mighty wings. The more I read, the more I realized my brother had to be a dragon and not an enchanter like I once thought. I wasn’t the only one, but that didn’t make me feel better about it. Why hadn’t he told me about this? And if he knew, was he also aware of who I was destined to be?
“Oh, my apologies,” a man with emerald eyes smiled to me as he passed by my table. He had spilled some of his drink and it splashed near my flats on the floor. I was sitting with my legs crossed in the chair then, and I almost didn’t even notice him.
“That’s okay,” I smiled back. I leaned over and handed him a napkin, and then he cleaned up the spot and threw the napkin away.
“Must be good,” he eyed the book in my hands. “I noticed you haven’t looked away from it.”
He stepped closer to me and tried to read some of the words, but I quickly closed the book tight.
“Oh, it’s a family heirloom. An old journal.”
“My apologies again,” he tipped his head in a polite nod. There was a comfort to his presence. He stood proud; shoulders out, soft gaze, inviting demeanor. “My name is Tristan,” he halfway smiled.
“I’m Irene,” I replied. “It’s nice to meet you.” I examined his face and noted the high cheekbones and strong nose. His chin was narrow and his eyes slender.
Before he could say something, my phone buzzed on the table and I looked down to see it was nearly nine. “Wow, I can’t believe how late it is.” I got up and gathered my things, and then went toward the door as Tristan followed behind.
“Here, let me,” he offered, opening the door as I went out. And, as I've done so many times, I dropped my phone on the steps as I tried to switch my bag to my other shoulder. “It’s alright,” Tristan grabbed it up and handed it to me.
“Thanks.” The phone was fine, but when I touched Tristan’s hand, I saw something, like a vision from far away. It was a bright and blue sunny day near a large cliff over water. I jerked back, and he instantly scanned me with prying eyes.
“Are you alright?”
“I think so,” I stammered. I stepped back to the wooden fence that sat near Beanies’ patio area. “Did you see that?”
“See what?”
“Um, a cliff,” I wrapped my arms tight around my body. “I saw a huge cliff of gray rocks covered in tall grass and moss. And plenty of wildflowers,” I rambled. “There was an ocean beneath and the sun was so bright. And the wind,” I trailed.
Tristan’s eyes caught onto mine, but he didn’t say a word.
“I’m sorry,” I laughed at myself. “I’m a bit of a mess lately. It was nice to meet you, Tristan,” I said, then shifted my gaze to my car.
“Sure you’re alright?” his cautious tone stopped me.
“Yeah,” I nodded. Something about his eyes kept me still. His stare, his scent, his manners… I started to feel weightless, airy, and free. I couldn’t look away anymore, I couldn’t blink him from my sight. It was magic, I was sure. He was different from me, I could somehow sense that. His kindness and charm was strong, but I was starting to see through it. I could feel myself wanting to get away, that he wasn’t safe like he was trying to make me believe. Still, as he neared me and took my hand in his, I couldn’t leave.
“Let me show you the cliffside that I know,” he grinned.
> “Um,” I mumbled.
Tristan nodded and then the world around me faded darker and darker as I stared deep into his bright green eyes. Within seconds, the sun came over us and we were standing on the cliffside that I had glimpsed moments before. The water rushed at the cliff below, and I was able to look around and experience the sight.
“You don't seem afraid.”
“I don’t know what I am right now.”
Tristan’s grin grew as his strawberry blond hair waved in the wind.
“What are you?” I faced him. “What magic is this?”
His eyes went to my bag and he said, “Your family knows us well.”
“They do?”
Tristan leaned into the breeze and squinted as the sunlight swept over us from over the clouds.
“This is my home, where I’ve lived for… well, longer than you might believe.”
“Is this… Frostmoor?”
Tristan thought over my words for a second, and then he laughed—with his whole body—and I felt like a fool for asking.
“This place is not meant for dragons.”
“Then what are you?” I neared him, hoping to somehow sense what he was, as if that was something I could do all of a sudden.
Tristan gave me one more grin, and then sunlight faded, and I was standing on the sidewalk. Alone.
Chapter Nine
Halloween was a few days away. My aunt was in Talon Grove for the All Hallows’ Festival and Market. Charlotte and I were tending to the bookstore, and the many people who came to revel in the occult.
“Where are the sunstones?” Charlotte called to me from our aunt's side of the bookstore. Being hounded by numerous people, about things she rarely ever handled, Charlotte reached her level of exhaustion early. At the bookstore counter dealing with several people myself, I had to steady my breath.
“On the bottom shelf behind you,” I called back. Before I knew it, hours had passed, and it was nearly one o'clock. I was so hungry, but there was no relief until close. Not during Halloween week.
“I’m so glad to see you,” I gleamed at my brother as he came in the back door.
“I bet,” he grinned. He stepped behind the register and I was able to take a minute to myself.
“Some year, I might go to Talon Grove and work the booth while Aunt Cressa stays here in this madness,” I joked.
“It’s pretty hectic there, too,” he said.
He helped a couple of people while I got a drink of water and nibbled on a granola bar. I took over the registers again and Dylan bagged items.
“Hey, I've been wanting to talk to you about something,” I hinted. He had to have known what I was getting at, but he just shrugged. I rolled my eyes. “A magical something…”
We both smiled at the customer who was paying, and when she left, Dylan faced me with a suspicious grin.
“I know it's early, but I made you something for your birthday.”
“Didn't you hear me?”
He sighed. “Irene, I've always told you it'd happen. Besides, this sort of goes with it all,” he smiled as he pulled a little metal ring from his pocket.
“Did you make this?”
“I don't just work with wood,” he laughed.
I twirled the ring around my fingers and took a minute to revel in its beauty. The swirling design and smooth inner band must have taken him hours to craft.
“It’s a special metal, Irene. It sort of protects us.”
“Us?”
Before I could finish my thought, a child bumped into a display near the entrance and knocked a glass figure onto the floor. It shattered while everyone stood silent for a few seconds.
“No worries,” I assured the customers. I dropped the ring into my handbag on the chair behind me, and then went over to see how bad the mess was.
“I’m so sorry,” the mother said with a smile.
“Really, it’s okay. I knock these things over just stacking books,” we both laughed.
I went and pulled a broom from the side wall behind the register, passing by Dylan as he helped a man purchase a bag of chakra stones. When I started to sweep up the shards of glass, I noticed a chunk of the structure was still intact. I knelt and lifted the piece into my fingers and realized it was a wing.
“It’s a faerie,” a familiar, yet foreign voice, standing out among the chaos, poured over me. I looked up to see Tristan standing there. He reached out his hand, and I hesitated to take his assistance.
“A faerie?” I repeated. He extended his hand again, with a grin, of course. I slid my fingers into his palm and stood without a vision, thankfully.
“Yes, but this little figure is misleading,” he explained, and I listened fully. “Not all faeries have wings. And none of them are this small. They’re actually a lot like humans.”
“Is that right?”
“Oh yes.”
I stood there for a moment looking at him and then joked, “Are you stalking me?”
He laughed. “I’m actually here for a book. I’ve tried all the other stores in town.”
“What’s it called?”
“The Lady of the Wild.”
“Um, I don’t think I know that one,” I dropped the glass into the garbage.
“I’m surprised,” he tapped at his chin. “I would imagine you’d know it very well.”
“Why’s that?”
“Well, it’s an ancient fairy tale. One about a land that is cloaked in mystery,” he followed me around the bookshelf by the window. “There’s a lady, you see, a noblewoman of sorts. She tries hard to protect her people, but she isn’t strong enough to resist the darkness.”
“Sounds like she isn’t very heroic,” I stopped and glanced to the street. It was bright outside, but somehow the atmosphere felt withered. That there was death in the air, that things were ending. The trees were turning, the grass browning.
“I never said she was the hero,” he caught my attention from the road. “You see, there’s a light to her that threatens the darkness. It brings doubt to her people and, well, the ending isn’t made for Disney.”
“It sounds sad.”
“It has a sad ending, yes,” he agreed. “But her biggest tragedy is that she’s unaware of her value. To her people, and to many others in her vast world, she’s a protector, a guide.”
“She’s faced with a dilemma,” I assumed, watching his eyes carefully take me in. “She’s driven toward making a choice that seems right, or… even logical. But it’s tragic, like you said. Her story ends with her own demise, doesn’t it?”
“This tale, from a long time ago, is a beautiful story about darkness, temptations, and the desire to have what one cannot.” He paused and sighed as his eyes trailed over me. “I would hope that, given the chance, her character would make wiser choices.”
“But that’s the beauty of a fairy tale,” I argued. “The character makes the choice, and the story is told. And because of it, we, as readers, learn something valuable.”
“Very true,” he smiled.
“Well, if we have it, it’ll be over here,” I led him over to the third shelf from the window. My mother had stacked old books, ones with worn binding and torn pages, all on a shelf without any form of organization. It sort-of looked pretty, but in the way only she could conjure. “I wish I could help you locate it quicker, but it could be anywhere.”
“Irene?” my brother called to me, and I turned to see him standing at the register with a long line of people.
“I’ll be over there if you need anything else,” I said and went to Dylan. I went to apologize to him, but there was something stirring in his eyes—something deep and illusive that I had never seen before. “Are you alright?”
“I thought you were wearing your ring?” he asked as he eyed Tristan with a disapproving glare.
“The one you gave me?”
“Is there another?” he smarted off.
“I didn’t think it was mandatory.”
“You don’t understand,�
� he faced me. “That ring took me a long time to create. I’d appreciate it if you wore it.”
I whispered curiously, “Is this about his magic?”
Dylan looked at me like he was surprised I knew. Reluctantly, he nodded.
“I’m getting food,” Charlotte yelled to me and Dylan as she stepped out the front door. Her line of customers had ended, while mine had two more. The lady and her child, and Tristan. When he stepped up to the register, I could hear a soft rumble, like a light roar, at my side. I looked to my brother, who was then locked in a moment of intensity, unable to look away from Tristan.
“Did you find your book?” I asked Tristan.
“I did,” he said. “Thank you for your help, Irene.”
“Do you know my sister?” my brother wasted no time asking.
“We just met,” Tristan answered. I put his book into a bag and gave it to him with his change. “Perhaps I’ll see you again,” he said, and I smiled in return.
“What’s wrong with you?” I asked Dylan the second Tristan exited the store. It didn’t take a genius to see that Tristan had made Dylan angry. Thankfully, the store was nearly empty then, so when Dylan stared over me without a word, I just walked away.
And not two seconds later, my phone buzzed with a text.
I'm outside, can I see you?
I went out the door to the alley. Cole was leaning on his car with his eyes squinted to the trees. I took in a deep breath. The lingering smell of burning leaves from the neighborhood several streets away was fresh in my lungs. I walked close, but not too close, and I waited without a word.
"I was hoping we could talk," Cole leaned up. He slid his fingers through his hair and squinted at me with a grin. The nerve.
Dylan walked out behind me and stood there, still heated from seeing Tristan.
“Not now Dylan,” I said when I noticed him.
“Why is he here?” Dylan asked.
“Why are you here?” I asked Cole.
“Can’t we talk alone?” Cole asked. Well, it was more like he was insisting.
“What makes you think I’ll let her be alone with you?” Dylan stepped closer to me.