Enchanted Summer

by Samantha Rose

  “If I’m staying in my true form, it would be enough,” she said with a nod. “But if I want to stay this size, I have to eat more.”

  Nate nodded back. He contemplated a hint she’d dropped earlier. The mentioning of some sort of an enchanted forest. Was it a name or was she just calling it that? He wondered where it was located.

  “So …” he attempted to ask. “You’re not from here?”

  Ariadne shook her head, soft locks whisking her cheeks.

  “This forest that you’ve mentioned … Is it far away?”

  “Very far away.”

  “Is it—” A sudden thought occurred to him. “Is it in our world?”

  Ariadne smiled mysteriously, picking up a hazelnut. “No.”

  “In another world?” Nate met her gaze.

  “In another world,” dryad repeated. “But don’t bother to ask questions—I can’t tell you any more than that.”

  She took one of the cups in her hands and breathed in the aroma wafting from it.

  Nate watched her in silence.

  Couldn’t tell any more than that … Was it because she didn’t want to tell or because something—or someone—forbade her from telling?

  “Why are there two cups of tea?” Ariadne’s voice broke into his musings.

  Nate looked down at the tray. “I wanted to try it myself.”

  “You’ve never tried an herbal tea?” she asked, surprised.

  He shook his head. Picking up the teacup, he inhaled the distant aroma of mint.

  “Here.” Ariadne handed him a saucer filled with honey. “Add it to the tea. It would taste even better.”

  Her multicolored wings fluttered a little as she curiously watched Nate scoop up a spoonful of honey and dip it into his cup. The honey dissolved in the tea, and he took a sip.

  Nate swallowed the tea, his eyes growing wide for a second. It tasted amazing—but there was something more to it. Something magical.

  It was the taste of the endless meadows whispering on the winds underneath the boundless blue sky. The taste of warm summer nights. A clearing hidden in the depths of an ancient forest. The winding path leading to the sparkling surface of the marvelous lake.

  Nate lowered the cup onto his lap, overfilled with emotions. As if he’d just dived into the magical world; the world of endless summer. The world he had totally forgotten about with his boring daily routine.

  It took him a few moments to come back and look at Ariadne.

  “Well?” the dryad asked.

  Her wings were still trembling a bit. Nate found something incredibly cute in this movement.

  “It’s amazing,” he breathed.

  Having tried a tea like that, he was sure he’d never go back to drinking soda.

  Ariadne was seemingly pleased with his answer. They continued their dinner.

  “Are you sure you won’t be cold sleeping outside?”

  “I am sure.” She smiled. “Thank you for your concern.”

  Nate sighed. “Tomorrow I leave for work in the morning. I’ll leave the food for you in the tree hollow.”

  “You don’t have to. I can feed myself.”

  “I can leave you the keys. I have extra ones at home.”

  She nodded. “Thank you.”

  Nate watched her, sipping the tea. “This Sunday, my friends and I are planning to go hiking in the forest. You can come with us if you want to. I mean, if you don’t mind driving in the car for some time. It’s probably stifling for you to live outside of nature for so long …”

  Ariadne flicked her eyes to him.

  “Your garden is enough for me,” she said. “But I wouldn’t mind stretching out my wings for a while. I can shift and hide so that your friends wouldn’t see me.”

  Nate smiled. “Then it’s a deal.”

  He contemplated telling her about the lake Hanna wished to seek out, or the town legends—maybe a fairy would know a thing or two about that—but then reconsidered.

  They finished their dinner and stacked the empty dishes on the tray. Nate folded the blanket.

  “Tell me if you need anything,” he said to Ariadne before leaving. “My bedroom is right there.” He pointed to the second-floor window.

  She nodded slightly. They said goodnight to each other.

  Nate had already turned to go when she called out to him.

  “Nate?”

  He spun around and gazed at her. It was so strange to hear his own name spoken by a … fairy.

  She was standing in the same pose as yesterday, one hand clutching the other. Fine glitter covering her skin shimmered in the dim light.

  “Something’s not right?” Nate asked.

  Ariadne shook her head. “No, nothing,” she said coyly. “I just—” She closed her eyes and shook her head. “Good night.”

  Before Nate could say anything else, she turned into a bubble of light and flew away, leaving a trail of magical pollen in her wake.

  Watching her disappear inside the tree hollow, Nate whirled around and continued to go.

  “Good night, Ariadne,” he said quietly into the night.

  Seven

  The next morning, Nate woke up to the sound of raindrops rattling on his windowsill. He looked outside—the driveway was all wet, and the grass glittered with drops of water.

  Despite Ariadne telling him she could find her own breakfast, he decided to bring it to the hollow this morning—so that she wouldn’t have to get soaked in the rain. He arranged the last bit of berries on the plates, taking a mental note to stop at the store on his way back and pick up a new batch. He stored berries in the fridge and hoped they wouldn’t go bad overnight. Living in the forest her entire life, Ariadne was probably used to plucking fresh berries right off the bush every morning.

  Being finished with breakfast preparations for the fairy, Nate took the plates outside and placed them at the entrance to the tree hollow. Just as yesterday, Ariadne was nowhere to be seen—either huddled too deep in the hollow or gone somewhere early in the morning. Nate really hoped she had stayed inside. He wasn’t sure how such weather affected the creatures like her.

  His worry extended into the workday. Nate hoped the rain would stop soon, and at one point it really had ceased but then resumed with more force to it. The wind picked up, and the weather got seemingly worse.

  Curious glances followed Nate as he paced by the windows, watching the storm coming in. The diner got visibly less busy, people hiding in their homes or at work.

  “I hope it will clear up by tomorrow,” Ray muttered, joining Nate in staring outside. His arms were folded over his chest, his eyes reflecting the fast-moving clouds. “Hanna is keen on going to the forest. She said you’d come?” He cast a glance at Nate.

  Nate nodded in response.

  “What’s that Secret Lake everyone’s talking about?” he asked.

  Ray smirked. “It’s an old legend. A lake that isn’t on any of the maps and can’t be seen from a satellite. Sounds ridiculous, right? But some locals still believe in its existence for some reason.” He shrugged. “They say its bottom is made of a solid crystal, and strange flowers bloom on its shores. They also claim people had spotted fairies in the area.”

  Nate flinched. “What?”

  “As I’ve said, it’s bizarre.” His friend raised one of his hands. “Tiny; the size of a palm or even smaller. With wings and stuff.” He flicked his wrist. “It’s just a legend. Hanna’s uncle …” He shook his head. “I love all of her family, I really do, but … He’d started losing it a long time ago.”

  Nate looked to the floor.

  “Still, I think it would be a fun way to spend the day. We can have a picnic or something. Show you the local woods. I think you’ll like it.”

  Just as he said that, thunder rolled in the distance. Nate whipped his head up.

  “It looks like a storm is coming in,” Ray pointed out, stretching out his arms. “We gotta get back to work.”

  But Nate didn’t move. He kept his eyes pinned on the
dark sky. Lightning forked in the distance.

  “Nate?” Ray called him, hesitant.

  Nate stepped away from the window. “I need to go.”

  “What?”

  “I have to return home, now. I— I’ve left something outside, and it’s very important …” He flicked his eyes to Ray. “Can you cover up for me? I wouldn’t have asked if it wasn’t that serious.”

  Ray frowned in puzzlement. “Well … If it’s really that important …” He shook his head. “Yeah, of course, I’ll cover up for you.”

  “Thank you,” Nate said, and in a minute he was gone.

  Nate’s mind raced as fast as his car as he drove to his house through the raging thunderstorm. Lightning flashed here and there, but he ignored it. Windscreen wipers snapped back and forth, trying to clear the raindrops streaming down his windshield. It seemed like he was driving underwater.

  He almost didn’t lie to Ray this time around—he did leave something important outside. Ariadne.

  As he navigated the streets of his neighborhood, a distant memory replayed itself in his mind. Once again, he was a little boy exploring the garden. It had just rained, and he’d dropped to his knees on the wet grass, observing a colorful butterfly. It lay on its side, its wings all wet. Nate thought it was just sleeping. He picked it up and showed it to his mother.

  “Butterflies have a thin layer of dust covering their wings,” she explained to him. “If they get wet, they die.”

  He couldn’t accept it. He placed the butterfly on a dry spot on the porch and watched it for a long time, hoping it would get up and flutter its wings open. But it didn’t move. And then a gust of wind picked it up and carried it away, giving no chance for Nate to find it.

  In the present moment, Nate turned into his driveway, his heart racing. The magical dust—he remembered it trailing behind Ariadne’s wings as she fluttered them. What if she, too, could die in the rain?

  She was a magical creature, and he hoped she had ways of protecting herself from the storm. But she also had come from another world, and who knew what weather conditions she was used to living in. He hoped he didn’t come too late.

  An image of Ariadne stretched out on the wet grass—just like that butterfly in his memory—flashed before him, and he shivered.

  No. This will not happen, he willed himself to think.

  Climbing out of the car, Nate shut the door and rushed to the willow tree. Three steps into the garden, he was almost soaked through with the rain. But he didn’t care.

  Grasping at the wood, he peered into the hollow to only see the darkness.

  Please, be here, he silently begged.

  “Ariadne?” His voice seemed to echo from the empty trunk. “Are you inside? It’s me, Nate.”

  Nobody responded, but then, he wasn’t sure he would hear such a tiny creature speaking. He released a breath, then started removing the jacket from his shoulders. Another wave of thunder rolled above his head.

  “A storm came; you can get all wet. What’s worse—lightning can strike the tree.” He took off his jacket and draped the entrance to the hollow with it. “Here,” he said through the small gap that was left. “Get into my jacket, and I can carry you inside the house. It’s not safe to remain here.”

  He waited. From here, there could only be two options: either she’d heard him and would take his offer or she’d prefer to remain hidden. Or she could have gone already—on her fairy business—but then she wouldn’t respond, either. Nate hoped that if it was the latter, Ariadne would find a place for herself to ride out the storm.

  After a few moments filled only with the sounds of rain patter on the leaves and the distant rumble of thunder, Nate heard something flutter inside the tree hollow. Something small clung to the other side of his jacket, and he released a breath he had been holding.

  She was there. She was alive. Nothing else mattered.

  Nate wrapped his jacket around her small body—as gently as he possibly could. Then he ran through the garden to the front porch, clutching the jacket to his chest, shielding it from the downpour as much as he could.

  He sprang up the stairs, snatched the set of keys from his pocket, and unlocked the door. Inside, it was dry and smelled of lavender, the sound of rain muffled.

  Nate closed the door and unfolded the jacket in his hands, releasing a bubble of light into the air. It glowed brighter, a stream of light bursting from the inside of it, and in a second took the form of Ariadne.

  “Hey.” Nate stared at her, a bit dumbfounded—still mesmerized by her ethereal nature. “Are you all right?”

  Ariadne fluttered her wings. “I am. Thank you.”

  Nate took a deep breath. “I saw the storm coming in and got worried. I didn’t know if it could be”—he flicked his eyes to her wings—“harmful to you.”

  She cast her glance around the room. “I’m sure not used to such weather conditions. It never rains in the Enchanted Forest.”

  She kept her eyes locked on the shiny silver refrigerator, but then, probably sensing the weird pause in their conversation, flicked them back to Nate.

  To find him staring at her. It was only then that she’d probably realized she had let another bit of information slip from her lips.

  “It is the forest, right?” Nate was looking at her curiously. “With trees and everything? How do they get water?”

  Ariadne clutched one of her hands with the other—the movement already so familiar to him. “It has this … certain magic running through it,” she murmured, then turned away, clearly not intending to say anything else.

  “But you know what the rain is,” Nate persisted.

  “I’ve seen it,” she admitted. “Outside the Forest.”

  What’s outside of the forest? Nate wanted to ask, but at the same time, he didn’t want to bug her with questions any longer.

  Either way, he had to return to work.

  “Let me show you to the guest bedroom,” he said to Ariadne. “You can stay at my house for as long as you wish.”

  Eight

  Ariadne stood in the middle of the hall and curiously took in her surroundings.

  Nate had just stepped out the door. She heard his car engine roar to life, and then he drove off into the rain. She was left completely alone.

  It was all so unexpected. She heard the storm coming in about an hour ago and hauled her blanket deeper into the tree trunk. She huddled up underneath it and hoped the storm would pass soon. Listening to the distant peals of thunder and her own breathing, she didn’t even notice how she dozed off. And was awakened by Nate’s voice.

  He had come to her. He had saved her.

  Well, maybe “saved” was too big of a word—Ariadne was convinced she would be safe within her secluded dwelling. But still, she felt her heart beat faster in response to the sound of his voice.

  His house …

  Ariadne looked over the small kitchen—she supposed it was a kitchen, considering there were tables and a sink, and something that looked close to an oven—though there was no fire on the inside and the top of it resembled a glass pane with mysterious circles drawn on it. A couple of plants grew in pots on the windowsill—one of them in full bloom, the other weak and partially dry.

  “Poor little thing,” Ariadne sighed and crossed the room to examine it.

  There was a tall silver cabinet on one side of the kitchen. A paper note was pinned to it. It said:

  There are some leftover berries inside. Take as much as you want.

  Carefully, Ariadne touched the strange metal handle and pulled. A wave of chilly air wafted out of the brightly lit space.

  Cold, cold, cold … Ariadne shivered.

  On the inside, she found shelves—more glass—filled with different food. Cheese, bacon, some fruit, milk—everything packaged in weird clear boxes and wrappings. Her kind didn’t eat meat or dairy, but she’d seen plenty of it served at the feasts thrown by lords outside of the Forest while accompanying her mother and father on their official business
, so she knew what it was. Though this food somehow seemed less natural-looking to her. And it smelled different.

  So, this was some sort of a cool pantry that humans used to preserve food. So brightly lit! Electric lights—Ariadne had learned what they were a long time ago—shined so much brighter than candles and fairy lights of the Enchanted Forest. They almost burned her eyes. She had no idea how humans could endure being surrounded by them all the time.

  Snatching a smooth clear box of leftover blackberries, Ariadne shut the metal door. She put the berries on the table counter and continued exploring.

  Another note was left on a relatively normal-looking wooden cabinet.

  Nuts and honey are on the first shelf here.

  She opened up the cabinet—more weird-looking boxes and bottles on the inside—and found what she was looking for: a big jar of honey and some package filled with different kinds of nuts. Everything was so brightly colored with images of what’s on the inside—Ariadne knew they were called photographs—and words describing the product. Too much information.

  Her eyes lingered on a box of something tucked in between the similar-looking boxes. A bit hesitant, she pulled it out. She turned it over in her hands. There was an image of a bowl filled with beige-colored puffy rings soaking in something that looked like milk. Cheerios, it said. The box was sealed.

  A wave of curiosity overcame Ariadne as she ran her eyes through the list of ingredients written on the back. There were some unknown words, but overall, she didn’t find anything she couldn’t consume. She knew it was better for her not to eat grains, but … just a little bit wouldn’t hurt, would it? It was the first time she ever tried real human-made food!

  Following the instructions, Ariadne ripped the box open, then fished out one of the puffy rings. They smelled distantly of honey, though it was some wrong-smelling honey. Still, she tasted it. It said on the box that you should add milk to it, but she couldn’t have milk. Something told her that soaking it in plain water or juice wouldn’t taste right. Dry, the rings tasted kind of weird. They crunched in her mouth. Ariadne ate two, then put the box back on the shelf and reached for the nuts and honey.