by Jamie Day
“If she didn’t return home,” said Taya, I’m certain she’ll be on the mountain. Until the smoke clears from the valley.”
Hope. Taya had given me hope, although I didn’t think she meant to. Her words about the horses changed the mood of the cave. Moments before, I had felt frightened and despised. I had wanted to sulk and hide from the cruelty that life offered me. Instead, I talked, laughed, and mingled through the night with the faces around the fire.
We were a strange combination, a faerie removed, my angry father, the bandit and the hunter I feared would end my life as I slept. Still, I enjoyed the moments of laughter and the meat we roasted in the fire. The night was so lively that I never felt myself tire, and didn’t remember the last words I might have spoken before sleeping.
Echoes in the Dark
A dim light flickered at the edge of my vision. Around it, everything was black. I rolled onto my side and watched a single orange flame dance and waver, until it grabbed the wood and flared to a steady glow. I felt my cheeks tighten and realized I was smiling. It felt good to wake in a safe place. Offering a loud sigh, unafraid to disturb the others, I turned my head to look at my father.
He wasn’t there. A pile of splintered branches had taken his place. I rubbed my eyes, testing them to know if I was dreaming, and then stared again. No one slept near me. On the other side of the flames, Darian lay bundled, facing the cave wall.
“Father?” I whispered.
The wood cracked and hissed an answer. Darian and I slept alone. The log on the fire was fresh, barely touched by flame, telling me that someone was near. I glanced again at Darian. He didn’t move. I closed my eyes again and tried to remember if there was anything important from the night before. I remembered only laughing and meat.
Stretching the soreness from my legs and arms, I stood for a moment, but knelt when my head started spinning. The remaining andelin leaves lay neatly in a stack near Darian’s feet. I removed the one from his injured arm and tossed into the fire. The cave brightened for a moment before dimming again. As I replaced the leaf, I looked at his arm. Its flesh was red, not the dark violet from yesterday. I winced at the memory of Taya’s attack, only to marvel at the progress his wound had made since. The cut had sealed, not perfectly, but enough to keep infection out. It was still swollen, but looked better. I shook my head in disbelief. Taya’s definition of pain, suffering and healing had worked. Darian was going to live.
I placed the leaf back on his arm and left the fire. Around the corner, the cave was dark, but a hint of violet sifted through the distant treetops, allowing enough light to navigate. Quietly, though not silent, I creaked open the gate. The whinny of a horse sounded from the forest.
I retreated, fearing our discovery, and ignored the squeal of the iron as I leapt behind the corner. The horse was close, too close. Its heavy steps disturbed the forest floor then a tiny splash announced the slipping of a rider from his saddle. I knew horses; I knew these sounds; I didn’t need to see. Covering my mouth with my hand—to keep my breath from echoing—I peered around the corner and waited for the intruder to come.
Father ducked as he entered the cave. He didn’t need to, but I was certain he feared the closeness of the ceiling. He carried a saddle in one arm and a full burlap sack in the other. Thankful and eager, I rushed to the gate and swung it open to greet him.
“I thought you had left us,” I exclaimed, jumping at him when I was near enough. I offered him my warmth in a hug.
“I did leave,” he answered, yawning. Then he chuckled in a way that made my heart smile. “I’ve brought you something.” He pulled away from me and held out my saddle. “I know she’s not your favorite, but Gwenn will make finding Maeia a lot easier. She’s a mountain horse. Use her well.”
“Oh, Father.” I grabbed him again. “Thank you.”
“I brought more bread and cider.” He paused. “But don’t tell your mother. There’s not much left at the barn.”
“I don’t know what to say,” I told him. “I thought you were angry with me. When I told you I wasn’t coming home, I thought you’d sworn me off as your daughter.”
He laughed again. “Rhiannon, that’s impossible. We’re not savages. I wouldn’t deny my own flesh a chance at redemption.”
“You’re not angry at me?”
“I didn’t say that.” Father smiled when he answered but I saw his rigidity. “I don’t want you running from your future. If you’re not careful, you’ll end the season wandering the hills, looking for a fate that won’t accept you.”
“Like Taya?”
He nodded toward the gate. “Is she still sleeping?”
“No. It’s just Darian,” I told him. “When I woke, he and I were the only ones left.”
“Ah.” Father straightened his face and lowered his voice. “She’s a strong, independent woman.”
“You call her a woman?”
Father grinned. “She’s different—and stubborn. I don’t think the strongest ropes could hold her in one place.”
“She seemed to enjoy her fortune,” I said. I looked at my feet, noticing the stains on my sandals. With all of our adventures, the soles were starting to pull. If I had lived at home, I would have asked Mother to make me a new pair, but I wasn’t at home, and Mother wasn’t near to care for me. “Taya hates me,” I told Father, glancing up at his wrinkled eyes.
“You noticed.”
I released a disappointed sigh. Part of me was hoping that he would disagree with my words. I didn’t want to be right—not about her. I didn’t need another enemy in my life. “I was worried she would try to kill me as I slept,” I told him honestly.
“I thought the same.”
I glared back. “Why did you leave? If she had tried, there would have been no defense for me.”
Father shrugged and stepped deeper into the cave. “If Taya had wanted to kill you, daughter, I could not have stopped that woman.”
“You could have defended me.”
He kept walking. “Sometimes it’s best to let fortune stake its claim,” he said. “I won’t try to control our fates.”
I scurried to catch him before he reached the fire. “Why did you say that?” I grabbed his shoulders and turned him to face me. “What are you meaning?”
Father lifted his chin and smiled. Then he grabbed my waist and held me in the air. I was grateful the cave ceiling was higher there.
“There are many things that I want to happen,” he said. “I want peace, I want my home, and—” He lowered me to stare straight at my eyes. “I want my family safe.” He dropped me and dusted my waist with his rough hands. “Whatever I do to protect you won’t change your fortune. The future will still find you. I sent you away once to keep you safe from that man.” He didn’t have to nod to Darian for me to understand who he meant, but he did. “Here he is, sleeping at your fire.”
I glanced behind me. “I must do this,” I whispered to my father. “My honor is at stake.”
“I know.” Without speaking again, Father grabbed a thick branch from the woodpile and tore a long wide portion off the bottom of his tunic. He wrapped it tight around one end of the branch and dipped it into the heat. With his torch in hand, he stepped toward the shadows and deeper into the cave. After disappearing, he called back to me. “Are you coming?” His voice echoed its distance.”
I stood in place, irritated at my father’s casual acceptance. Somehow a scolding seemed like it would make me feel better. Everything I was doing was wrong, but nothing about it felt wrong. I had left home with no place to live and had helped the bandit escape. That bandit was responsible for my fiancé’s death. He had ruined my life. Why was I helping him?
I watched Darian as he sighed in his continued slumber, and formed a sly smile. I knew what he needed. His mention of the emerald had been a flaw in his plan, although he didn’t know it. Darian needed me—and I needed him. I wasn’t going to let him escape until I had the one thing that would make this nightmare end. The Fae scrolls. I l
eft him and ran toward my father.
“It’s a solid plan,” said Father, before I reached him. He must have heard me coming; I had made no effort to be discreet.
“What plan?” I asked, reaching the welcoming light of his torch.
He stopped to examine some of the roots exposed from the cave wall. Then he turned to face me, his face eerily shadowed by the light of the torch above him. “Staying in this cave.” He motioned to the walls. “There’s water here, seeping through the mountain.” He waved to the darkness. “Stash some supplies deep inside and you could stay as long as wish. What other secrets do you know of this place?”
“I found Sean’s armor here,” I told him. “Don’t you remember?”
Father waved the torch ahead and kept walking. “That’s even better.”
“For what?”
Father was moving fast, so I was almost running to keep up with his steady steps. The further he walked, the more irritated I became.
“Everything is rotten and rusted. There’s nothing in here I can use.”
Father stopped when he reached a deep hole in the ground. He knelt and lowered the torch into the abyss. “Is this where Nia fell? I remember that story.”
“Yes, sir.”
He continued staring at the void and stood with a groan. “This place is a treasure,” he said. “In here, you would have the advantage.”
“Against what?” I shook my head, confused. His words were irritating.
My father looked at me in a way I had never seen before. While the flame reflected in his eyes, I saw the fear he must have been carefully hiding before. “In here,” he said, “you’re safe against war.”
“Father?”
My father knelt again and motioned to me to join him low. “There’s trouble,” he said, and it’s more than just fires and kidnapping. You fear the men of Morgan, just as I do. You suspect that men in Aisling are involved. I must agree.” Father leaned close to my face. “Listen to me, Rhiannon. If Aisling turns to war, promise me you’ll come here. I’ll send your mother and Leila after you. Here, you’ll be safe. If men come after you, hide as long as you dare and then leave when you can.”
“Why is there going to be a war?” I asked. “What’s happened?”
Father shook his head and wiped one eye with his sleeve. “Everything around us is changing so fast, I can’t keep up. Many in our village lost their homes to the fire. We tried to hold council with Morgan, and their Elders left us with threats. They blame us for the problems. No one has answers and people are scared. Then yesterday, Ethan returned without you and told us of your kidnapping. Why would these things happen?”
“Perhaps it is because of me,” I answered. “Our fate is changing because I took the scrolls.”
I needed to be honest. Father had hinted that I was the cause of the trouble since I had revealed to my family that I took the scrolls to save Sean. Since that day, I had become his child of neglect. To him, I gave value as a worker, nothing more. I knew it and he never stopped telling me, though he never said the words aloud.
“Damn the scrolls!” Father’s voice shook the walls as his hands smothered my shoulders. “It’s a fool’s quest to try to find them now. They’ve been sold, or traded, or hidden deep. Aren’t you listening to what I’m saying? Forget about them!”
I cried. I don’t know how long I sat in my father’s arms, but it wasn’t long enough. I had run away from my life only to find out that what I left was no longer the same. I had been stupid to chase after Maeia.
As we weaved through the darkness, back to our fire, Father pointed out hiding places in cracks in the rocks. He took care to note that wood could be kept dry here, or water replenished there. I tried to remember his words but the terror of his words about Aisling cleared my mind of any thought but sorrow. When we reached the fire, Darian had risen and was examining his arm.
“There you are,” he said, smiling. “I heard your voices, but was weak. I needed the rest.”
“Come with me, bandit.” My father ordered Darian with a tone that threatened further injury if he didn’t. “Rhiannon, stay here. I’ll have words if you follow us.”
I did as he told me; still frightened from his tone in the cave and shocked at the manner he led the limping Darian away. I shouldn’t have thought he could do it, but I wondered if Father intended to murder the man.
The cave was dark again against the contrast of dawn outside. I tried humming to keep from imagining what might be happening between Father and Darian, but my music made the air feel hollow. I liked the cave, but felt lonely. It was going to be hard living here for a while, I decided. I sat near the fire and tried not to think about what fortune awaited me.
I needed a plan. I wasn’t good at planning and, most of the time, my intentions turned into some sort of disaster; the day was proof of that. Still, I needed things. I needed to find Maeia, I needed to find the scrolls, and I needed to stay hidden from everyone in Aisling.
I smiled and stretched, a bit surprised to be feeling pleased even though the moment was horribly against everything I had ever dreamt. Every thought of Aisling brought the smile back. I didn’t miss it—no, I was happy to be free from the village. I wasn’t bound by the traditions that stole my rights as a faerie simply from my efforts to save the man I loved. Those people who mocked me at the Sun Season Celebration—I saw their faces in my mind—would be happy to hear of my kidnapping. After all, I had disgraced everything pure about what the village was.
If I only had the scrolls, I could prove that I was more than they could become. I had been a faerie once, which meant something. Even Leila insisted on my advice before the celebration. I wasn’t an outcast from the faith; I was an outsider to Aisling. I grinned again. This cave was where I belonged.
Sitting in contemplation, I heard two sets of footsteps enter the cave. Voices accompanied them, laughing voices. The gate creaked, and then Father and Darian joined me at the fire.
“Did you think I’d kill him?” asked Father, flashing a smile at Darian.
I gasped at his open threat. “No,” I lied. I swallowed my surprise. “I wondered what you two could talk about,” I said. Gathering courage, I turned to face my father. “Except threats and promises to leave me.”
Darian shifted in the dirt, announcing that I was partly right. When I turned to look again, he straightened and stared absently at the flames, obviously trying to avoid my gaze.
I wanted to ask what they had discussed, but doubted I’d get a straight answer from either of them. Father removed his pipe and lit it with the end of a small branch he rescued from the fire. After a long inhale, he smothered us with the sweet aroma of his smoke.
We stared at the flames, each of us waiting for the moment to pass, or for someone else to speak. The unspoken words said what all of us must have been thinking. We knew we needed one another.
In the silence, each lapping flame crashed against the still air, and every time someone shifted in the dirt, the scraping would echo and amplify the hesitation. Around us, the cave cried tiny drops of water.
“I’ve endured too much.” Father finally said, ended the torture of the moment. “The work won’t lessen if I waste the day here.” He rolled to his knees and stood. After dusting his pants and tunic, he hovered over me and stared. “Remember what I told you,” he said, keeping the same expression. “Don’t come home until the danger has passed.”
I swallowed again. “How will I know when that is?” I asked. The echo of my words was sharp and angled.
My father’s face changed and aged as I watched him. “One of us will see bloodshed before then,” he answered. “I don’t think there’s any way of escaping that.” With a turn that seemed to last forever, he faced away from me and walked out the gate. Blending with the creaks of the iron, his voice echoed a final “I love you.”
Sanctuary
The cave offered safety, but it also presented a host of new dilemmas. Every whisper of wind through the trees, every disrupted bra
nch, or stirring outside sent Darian or me hurrying toward the gate to investigate. Day or night, our reactions were the same. If someone were to find us there, we had no recourse but to flee into the darkness.
Darian began moving better, although I could tell he wasn’t ready to journey up the mountain. He took walks with me to gather herbs and dawnberries, but simple things such as stomping wood into pieces with his feet or climbing a tree for more andelin leaves made him silent. He would wince and cover his mouth to hide the pain, but I knew captivity had damaged him.
The sun left long shadows on the forest that called for me to entertain them to dance. I was restless. Hiding from an unseen enemy felt as oppressing as the small smokehouse in Morgan, and the mossy walls of our cave seemed to squeeze closer as the days and nights continued. I longed to ride, and the horse Father had brought for us was restless confined beneath the trees all day. I didn’t like it either. While she made angry grunts and chewed at her rope, I wished there was a way for us to roam together. Daylight was dangerous, and nights were full of preying animals.
I managed to let her inside the gate one evening, though the confines were cramped. Earlier that same day, I had discovered paw prints in the mud—most likely made by wolves. Darian’s constant shifting throughout the night echoed eerily off the cave walls, forcing me to wake as often as he did.
Still tired from a lack of sleep, I resigned myself to a short night ride to ease my mind. The air was peaceful outside the cave and we hadn’t encountered trouble with any creature. Although I was still worried about Gwenn’s safety, I decided to continue riding each night, while searching for any sign of trouble in the process. Our habit became a welcome arrangement; Darian would watch the gate and the forest by day, allowing me to sleep, while I spent much of the nights wandering my land and exploring its secret beauty. I was slowly adjusting to the dark and noticed the details of everything around.
I started to see the differences in plants, trees, and even noticed when a stone had been disturbed. I knew when the wolves had returned, and even followed their trail one evening, walking bravely with the knife my father had left. Compared to the certain death I would face if men caught me, the wolves became a curious oddity, rather than a threat to my safety. Still, I knew to keep a safe distance and Gwenn made certain that I did. Sight became secondary in the dark. I felt my way along small trails back to and beyond the meadow. I stopped staying at the cave—I could hear if there was trouble—and often wandered to the lake and its mystery.