Ride the Wind: A Flipped Fairy Tale (Flipped Fairy Tales Book 3)

by Starla Huchton

  “It’s complicated. I have to go.”

  “Wait.” I reached out a hand, though all I met with was air. “Will I see you again?”

  “You’ve yet to see me at all.”

  “You know what I meant.”

  The door creaked open and started to close. “As we’re both in this together, I imagine so, Lukas. Goodnight.”

  “Goodnight,” I murmured as the door latched closed. The more I learned of the woman, the less I knew. First I was her hope, next we were in it together? In what?

  I sank back onto the pillows, the questions swirling in my mind for a very long time. Eventually I slept again, though my dreams were as troublesome as my waking hours. Frighteningly vivid flashes of memory, emotion, colored my visions. Devastating loss of family, bewilderment, running to escape a dark evil on blackened wings, loneliness, loyalty so intense I’d never felt its like, a tiny hope, sad resignation, and unfettered freedom cascaded over me one after the other. I awoke in a cold sweat, confused at my surroundings, but with the lights burning brightly I came to my senses soon enough. It was enough to rattle me for the entirety of the day, however.

  “Distracted?” the elk asked as I absently shaved off layers of wood.

  “Hmm? Oh, a little, I suppose.”

  “Why?”

  I frowned at the gash I’d accidentally cut in the oak. “Didn’t sleep well.”

  The conversation died, the silence filled with the shhhhckt shhhhckt of wood being shaved down, bit by bit.

  “Your sister…”

  Looking up at her, I wondered where that had come from. “Hanna? What of her?”

  “What is she like?”

  I considered it for a moment, not really sure how to answer. “Well, I suppose she’s like any girl of fourteen. Precocious, stubborn, endearing. She used to follow me everywhere, but not so much of late. She has a talent for baking, but prefers mud to flour.” I chuckled to myself. “She’s up to her neck in dirt the moment the soil thaws in the spring and isn’t clean again until the first snow. Our garden is her greatest love, but she contents herself with potted plants in winter. The windows are nearly the first thing I have to clear away after a snowstorm, to let in sunlight. Her nagging is relentless if I don’t.”

  “Your only sibling?” she asked.

  My shoulders slumped a little. “She is now. I had a younger brother, but…”

  “I’m sorry…”

  I shook my head and went back to shaving down the wood, unable to look at the elk. “While he was with us, he smiled through everything as long as I knew him. Perhaps he was too gentle a spirit for this world.” A dark shadow descended over me, my thoughts fixating on a past moment of weakness.

  “Your mother… She seems a good woman…”

  I nodded, glad to change the subject. “The best you’ll meet in three kingdoms or more. She was raised in Kreig, a large city on the coast. Her parents saw her well-educated, hoping for a wealthy husband. She chose my father, however. Always tells me she only ever wanted a quiet life putting her hands to good use. It’s my mother that’s the strength of our family. She knows what needs to be done and has never shied away from her duty. I’d be blessed to have half of her dedication and fortitude.”

  “Not like your father?”

  Shrugging, I blew away a bit of sawdust. “He’s not a bad man. He works hard and is mostly dependable. His superstitious tendencies bother me a little, though. He’s more likely to blame a curse or trolls for bad luck than to admit his own fault if something goes poorly. He thinks our neighbors are trolls, but they’re simply housebound because of the aches in their bones. He attributes their knowledge of the world to magic rather than age and experience. My mother keeps with the ways of spirits and such, but sees the difference between the supernatural and coincidence.”

  “You know them well, then…”

  “I should think so, after nineteen years,” I said. “Differences and flaws make them who they are as much as mine make me. We need each other, and I’d do nearly anything they asked of me.”

  “Do you miss them?”

  The shavings from the wood piled up at my feet. I’d never been so far from my family for so long, and it still hadn’t sunk in that I was on my own, at least for the time being. “Of course I do, but I made a promise. I’ll see them when it’s done.”

  She fell silent again, resting her head on the soft grass, and I returned to my work. I stopped at lunch to eat and sit with her, and I read aloud a bit more before starting on my project again. The conversation was never complicated, and I started to feel an easy comfort in our periods of quiet that would last for an hour or more. There was no need to fill up those moments with pointless words. Her questions stuck with me, however, and I dwelled on thoughts of my family through the afternoon.

  “May I ask, that is, I don’t even know if it’s a reasonable question…” I frowned at the slowly growing indentation inside the cast. “Do you have any family? Normal elk have herds, I know, but… Magical creatures such as yourself, do you have others?”

  When she didn’t answer, I glanced up to catch her staring at me, eyes wide.

  “I’m sorry, am I not meant to know? I only meant to get to know you a little better, as you’re all the company I have for the foreseeable future.”

  She sighed and closed her eyes, laying her head down again. “I do…”

  “Is it a large family?”

  “It was, once…”

  I cringed. I hadn’t wanted to bring up sore topics, but it seemed only normal to ask about such things. “I didn’t mean to… If it’s too painful, you can ignore me, as you’ve proven perfectly capable of doing so anyway. If you’ve need of an ear to listen, however, I’m happy to provide it. Did something happen to them?”

  Her shoulder twitched in as much of a shrug as an elk could manage. “Life takes us down our own paths. My sisters are finding theirs one by one.”

  “Your sisters?”

  “They were my world, until this place…”

  Pausing in my work, I wasn’t at all sure what she meant. “Your sisters are still alive?”

  “Yes…”

  “Is there a quarrel between you?”

  The elk lifted her head and looked to the door. “I am tired…”

  By the looks of my hands, I’d have blisters if I worked much more. Blisters beneath calluses were never pleasant and would only make my job that much more difficult. As it seemed the elk was finished with me for the day, there was little to do but see her back to her room. Frustrated that I’d gotten no more answers than I’d had before, I propped her on my back, and we made our way through the door to the house and down the hall to her bedroom.

  “Is there anything else you need?” I asked when she was settled.

  When she answered with silence, it wasn’t in her typical standoffish or cantankerous way. There was a sadness in her distant gaze that made me want to press for more conversation, but I knew it would do me little good.

  “I’ll see to my dinner then before the lights go out. Rest well.” I turned away and headed for the kitchen. Perhaps she’d confide in me some other day.

  * * * * *

  It wasn’t so much the creak of the door that woke me as it was the feel of another’s presence. I opened my eyes, feeling a strange familiarity that only ever came at home. At first, I couldn’t place it, but then I realized…

  It was exactly the same as when Hanna would wake from a nightmare. On those nights, she’d silently crawl into bed beside me, curling up against my back without a word. As much as she insisted she was too old for such things, once every month or two I’d stir from sleep and find her with me. The same sort of warmth was with me in that moment, the weight of someone slight pressed against me, shaking a little as Hanna would do when she was scared.

  I laid there, considering what I should do. Surely it was the woman I’d spoken with in the darkness, but if I said anything, would she leave? While a small part of me was disturbed at the not-qui
te-a-stranger’s presence, I was mostly concerned about her. Crawling into bed with a person she barely knew was one thing, and she’d likely only done so out of desperation. As she didn’t strike me as overly trusting, even speaking up might cause her to flee immediately. Hanna never liked to talk about her nightmares, though she’d welcome my arms if I offered them, but that seemed an incredibly bad idea, given my situation.

  Of course, the moment I resolved to remain still was when my nose began to itch. I scrunched up my face, twitching my nose in hopes of relieving it that way, but to no avail. I tried to bunch my lips together, straining to reach the spot on the tip of my nose. That also failed. Finally, I reached my limit and slowly shifted my arm until my fingers were within range. A quick, light scratch, and the torment was over.

  My guest, however, was eerily still.

  “I’m so sorry…” she whispered, her words strained. “I shouldn’t have come, and it’s awful of me, but…”

  “Stay as long as you need to,” I said, thinking of Hanna. “It’s all right to need other people. We all do.”

  She sniffled against my shirt. “This is all my fault. Everything. I’m so sorry.”

  “Whatever it is, I’m sure we can fix it.”

  Her breath caught, and my nightshirt bunched in her grasp. “We?”

  “I already told you, if there’s anything I can do…”

  “You’ll stay with me, then?” she blurted.

  I blinked into the darkness. “Stay? What do you mean? I’ve already promised—”

  “Beyond that. Will you stay even after you’ve fulfilled your promise?”

  Stunned would’ve been an understatement for how I felt in that moment. Could I make such a promise to one whose face I’d never seen, and might never?

  “There’s no one for me, Lukas. No one else could do this. I’ve searched for months and not once, not ever, has anyone wanted to help me. I don’t…” she choked back a sob. “I don’t know what to do. I can’t, I won’t, force you to. It’s my fault. I’m so sorry.”

  My heart pounded in my chest as I listened to her desperate plea. Her cracked words tugged at me, pulling me in two directions. A blind promise to someone little more than an acquaintance? What would such a vow entail? Was I to be a prisoner in that house for the rest of my days because that woman, one with a voice like a warm summer breeze, said I was the only person that could help her?

  What of my family? Would I see them again? My mother already admitted to wanting to see me out in the world, but I couldn’t imagine she had such a situation in mind. Then again, my mother never denied help to those who needed it. No matter how little we had, she found ways of sharing it. What would she say if she knew what was being asked of me?

  I closed my eyes and sighed. I knew exactly what she’d say.

  “On one condition,” I said.

  She hiccuped a little. “Condition?”

  “I’ll stay, but not until you tell me your name. If I’m to give the rest of my days to another person, I’d like to know who I’ve given them to.”

  She was absolutely still against me, not even daring to breathe. Several moments passed before I felt her grip tighten.

  “Why… why would you agree to such a promise?”

  There, in the pitch black of my room, I considered the question. “Because… Well, I’ve always done what needed to be done. I made a mistake once, so perhaps this is how the spirits see fit for me to make amends. I won’t fail to do what only I can do again.”

  Her silent sobs shook her small frame, but I let her be. All she asked of me was that I stay, but she was already hesitant to accept that much. Long minutes passed with nothing but the occasional sniffle or sharp gasp.

  Finally, her grip on my clothing eased, and her breathing relaxed into a calmer pattern.

  “I’d never have asked this of anyone, Lukas. No one.”

  I waited. If she refused my one request, I wasn’t sure what might happen. Would she force it on me?

  “If you give me your promise, I will give you my name, but you cannot speak it to another soul.”

  There, in that moment, was my final chance. But if I turned away from the girl, what would become of her? If not me, there was no one else to take up the burden. I knew in my heart I couldn’t abandon someone who’d saved my life and brought more comfort to me in my darkest hours than even my mother could.

  “I promise to stay.”

  Her forehead pressed between my shoulders, her hand resting loosely beside it. “My name…” She swallowed hard. “My name is Erata, and now it belongs to you.”

  Chapter 7

  She left during the night, and I awoke alone. The strangeness of the whole situation left me wondering whether or not I’d simply dreamt all of it. Had I really made a promise to a woman I’d never seen, and spoken to barely twice before? Was my reality so askew that I’d signed away what might be the rest of my life to a voice in the darkness?

  But she was more than a voice in the darkness. I’d felt her beside me, her warmth, the desperate strength in her fingers as she held tight to my shirt. She had a name, and one I’d never heard the likes of before. If a storm could have one, surely Erata would be a fitting choice.

  She reminded me a great deal of a storm, in fact. What little I knew of her was as changeable as the weather on the mountain. She could bring comfort like a cool summer rain, or cause as much confusion as a blinding blizzard. But when she had hope, her words sparkled like the rays of the morning sun through the trees. I’d heard words like that from her. I longed for more of them.

  As I dressed that morning, I considered an obstacle I hadn’t thought of when I made my promise. If I was to stay in the elk’s home, I’d need her permission to do so. In order to keep Erata’s name off my lips, that meant finding another way to convince the elk to keep me there. Would a creature such as she have a need for someone like me after she was well? I needed to give her a reason to keep me around.

  After breakfast, the elk and I returned to the garden where I continued my work. I kept a pleasant smile on my face, attempting to hide my worried thoughts, but I may have overdone it. The elk was studying me with intense scrutiny every time I glanced up, prompting me to smile at her in hopes of throwing off her suspicion.

  Needless to say, the sudden change in my demeanor only made it worse.

  “Why are you different?” The question in the wind caused strands of my light hair to blow into my face.

  I brushed them out of my eyes and feigned ignorance. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “You seem… too happy to be here…”

  I turned my face to the sky and sighed. “The weather is lovely, and working with my hands brings me peace. Should I not be happy?”

  “You were not so yesterday…”

  Head down in my work again, I focused on shaving away the outer layers of the cast. “I suppose I’ve come to appreciate the value of this place. I want for nothing here, be it books, food, shelter—”

  “Family?”

  Pausing mid-motion, I didn’t look up. “Well, there is that, but I don’t think they’d be lost without me. My mother thought I’d be gone a year by now, and it isn’t as though…” I shook my head. “But that doesn’t matter. With all of this place at your disposal, what use would you have for me when you’re well? I’d feel silly even asking about the possibility.”

  “You wish to stay?”

  I swallowed hard, past all of my doubts, and lifted my eyes to hers. “If I was needed, I would.”

  Trying to decipher the thoughts in her head was completely beyond me. Her gaze searched mine, looking for something I couldn’t guess at. A lie, perhaps? Most of what I’d said was true, although I’d stretched it a bit when I’d said I was happy to be there. While I wasn’t unhappy, I’d been operating with the knowledge that I’d be leaving eventually. An indefinite stay… well, there were worse fates, and if I had to choose, remaining in an enchanted house with my every need seen to was far from disastrou
s.

  “What would you do here?”

  I shrugged and continued my work. “Anything you’d ask of me. Even if all you required of me was someone to read to you, as I imagine it’s difficult to turn pages with hooves, I’d see it done. And you’ve no one I’ve seen to converse with. I think you could do worse for companionship. If you ran into trouble again, there’d be no need to rely on luck to find someone to help you. There’s a sense of peace in knowing someone is always there in an emergency.”

  “Lukas…”

  The breeze across my neck was cool against the warmth of the sun, and I closed my eyes to capture the feeling.

  “Yes?” I said, holding on to the slim hope I’d be able to keep my promise to Erata.

  “I would not hold you against your will…”

  “I would offer myself all the same.”

  She tilted her head to one side, thinking. “We shall see…”

  Releasing a held breath, I nodded once and returned to shaping the cast with more determination than before. If I needed to prove my usefulness before I’d be allowed to stay, that was what I’d do.

  I was one step closer to keeping my promise.

  * * * * *

  A poke to my shoulder prodded me awake, and I sat up with a start.

  “You lied today,” she said from somewhere on the bed beside me.

  “What?” I rubbed the sleep from my eyes, trying to clear the fog from my brain.

  “When you spoke to the elk about staying here. You lied.”

  My mind raced back over the conversation of the day. “I don’t—”

  “You said you thought they’d be fine without you, but I don’t believe that.”

  I sighed and turned in her general direction. “You asked me not to use your name. I had to tell her something or she wouldn’t allow me to remain here. And it wasn’t a lie. They will survive without me, but I’ll miss them every day.”

  She was silent a moment, and when she spoke again, her voice was soft, as if she were holding back tears. “Can you truly be happy that way?”

  I ran a hand through my hair, buying time to come up with an answer. “It’s possible, I suppose. After all, were I to marry, the situation would likely be much the same. The mountains keep families apart all the time.”