Faebound Rhapsody

by Amy J. Wenglar

  My friends stop talking for a moment and turn to me, their expressions guilty.

  “You’re right,” Ruby says with a hopeful sigh. “If the stone is out there somewhere…”

  “Alexander should know of this,” I murmur, looking around the room as if he might pop in at any moment. My heart flutters in my chest at the thought of seeing him. It will thrill him when he hears I might have connected with this fabled relic. “Do you hear me? I have big news, Alexander.” But, as usual, there is nothing. No response. I growl, frustrated as I ball up my fist and smack the mattress. “What is with that guy?” I hiss. “Does he know what happened to me? That I’m here in this infirmary?” My friends turn away, each avoiding my gaze. “Does he even care?”

  “Yes,” Ruby says, staring down at the table. “Alexander knows what happened.”

  She doesn’t have an answer for if he cares or not.

  “What? That’s it?”

  I stare at the witches in disbelief, but they say nothing else about it. Which annoys me even more. I am supposed to be his wife…his partner. Yet he seems so far away from me now. Like what we had is over.

  Is he disappointed with me? Upset, perhaps, that I tried to take on too much magic at once? Or frustrated that I couldn’t handle what I tried to take on?

  Or he’s gotten what he needed from me and has kicked me to the curb.

  "Did he…come by to check on me, at least,?" I ask, trying to ignore the uneasiness in my voice. My friends are silent for a moment. They exchange glances as if unsure of how to answer. My heart sinks into my stomach.

  "Well, he didn't come by, per se," Myra says, avoiding my gaze once again.

  "But he sent Horace," Sarah pipes in, as if sending Horace makes it all better.

  “Horace,” I mutter. “He may as well have just slapped me in the face instead. It’s the same thing.”

  I wish I could brush it off. I wish I could ignore the hurt I feel knowing Alexander couldn’t even check on me himself. Sending Horace to check on me is wrong on so many levels. He likes nothing more than to see me fail. It gives him something to hold over me. And if I know Horace, he’s probably off somewhere gloating about how useless I am.

  And what does that say about Alexander? Has he changed his mind about this whole thing? Or was his mind never in this to begin with? After all, he’s a Fae Prince, and I am nothing more than a human woman…breakable in so many ways.

  “Don’t be like that,” Sarah whispers. “He didn’t change his mind. I promise. He just…he couldn’t get away. Faerie is a battleground right now, and he’s needed there.” I scowl at her, annoyed that she’s defending him. He’s a Fae Prince. He can stop time if he needs to. I’m sorry, but he could’ve taken a few minutes to pop in. “But, he requested that you take a couple of days off for proper rest and relaxation,” she continues. “He thinks you’re working too hard, and I have to say I agree.” She exchanges a glance with the other girls, and they all bob their heads in agreement. "Besides, if you've connected with the Black Obsidian Stone…I’d say you’ve accomplished something pretty great. You deserve a couple of days off.”

  I force myself to smile. If I have connected with this powerful Fae relic, then we need to find it. Before someone else does.

  “I’ll admit, rest and relaxation sounds amazing,” I say, grinning. “But can I afford any time off? Shouldn’t I track this thing down? Pinpointing its location or something?”

  “Take a couple of days,” Ruby advises. “You’ll be sharper if you do.”

  “Alexander says…and he knows best, right?” Anne says, a wicked gleam in her eye.

  “Yes,” Myra agrees. “In fact, I think we should all take a couple of days. It would be good for us. Sisterly bonding and all of that.”

  My phone dings bright and early the next morning, awakening me from a most delicious sleep. I fumble for my phone on the nightstand, a spark of hope igniting inside of me. Has Alexander somehow learned the art of the text message and is professing his undying love for me?

  Nope. No such luck.

  It’s a text from Sarah, instructing me to hurry, get ready, and meet her and the other witches downstairs. My muscles are heavy and my bones still ache. I’m not sure I have enough energy for all of them.

  “May as well,” I grumble as I force myself to get out of bed.

  I have no idea how to dress for our rest and relaxation day, so I decide to ask the room for guidance. In response, the room presents me with a cute off-the-shoulder lavender sweater, ripped jeans, and ballet flats. The room has fantastic taste.

  After showering and slapping on some makeup, I find my friends waiting for me downstairs. They are glammed up like they’re about to hit a trendy nightclub instead of a small town brunch.

  “What’s…with the glasses?” I ask, gesturing toward Sarah’s oversized sunglasses. “It’s still dark out there.”

  “It helps tame my visions,” she says, pressing her glossy lips together. “It helps me reel them in, so to speak. Some days, I’m more grounded…more rooted to the earth than others.”

  Myra groans, rolling her eyes.

  “I see,” I say, shooting Myra a warning glance before she can offer any catty remarks in response.

  “You look fantastic.” Sarah smiles as she takes my hands. “And your head is clearer, too. I sense it.”

  I pull my hands from hers. “Still have a way to go with reeling in those visions, huh Sarah?” I ask, smirking at her.

  I feel better than I had the day before when I'd left the infirmary. The pain pills I was sent home with made a world of difference. I feel invincible, like I could take on the world. And maybe even win.

  “The painkillers you get in the infirmary are the best,” Anne muses. “We’ve all had them prescribed to us at some point. You’re not the only one who has magical accidents.”

  To my surprise, she links her arm with mine as if we’re the best of friends. Does she think she has to make it up to me for getting with Chris? Does she think we’re bonded together in some kind of Christoph von Drauchenberg sisterhood? Regardless, I go with it, even if it seems a little weird. I haven’t known these girls for very long, but Anne always struck me as a little timid. She’s much meeker than the other three witches. Perhaps Chris and his grumpy, arrogant ways have somehow brought her out of her shell.

  Outside, a steady rain is falling, adding to the dreariness of the morning.

  “Hey, Ruby. Can we do something about this?” Myra complains. She turns up her palm and gazes up at the ominous rain clouds hovering over us. “I don’t think any of us brought a raincoat. Except you, of course.”

  “What? The rain makes things cozier,” Ruby says, shrugging deeper into her coat. “You know I love the rain. I couldn’t resist throwing it in for today’s festivities.”

  “It makes things sloshy and gross,” Myra argues. “Turn it off.”

  “Oh, okay. Fine.” Ruby pouts.

  With a defeated sigh and a little twirl of her wrist, the rain stops. I pitch forward as a swirl of magical energy passes through me.

  “Did you feel that?” Sarah asks, pulling her sunglasses down so she can peer over them. “That’s what happens when we’re all connected by magic. And you’re our Summoner, Sophia. You’ll experience it more than any of us.”

  “Summoner? Is that what it’s called?” I ask. “Makes me sound like some kind of wrestler. Like I’m about to jump off those stretchy rope-things and do some fancy wrestling moves or something.”

  “I guess magic is sort of like wrestling.” Anne shrugs, but I’m failing to make the connection. “So, is this your first time exploring Nevermoor?” she asks.

  “Mostly. I took a brief tour with Fiona when I first arrived, but the only person, or should I say bird, I've met outside of the Academy is Edgar."

  “Oh, jeez,” Ruby says. “And you didn’t run the other way out of sheer annoyance?” She rolls her eyes. “He may be a staple here in Nevermoor, but he’s a colossal pain in the ass.”
/>   Edgar the Raven squawks from his perch in the street. His black feathers ruffle as he bobs up and down on his perch.

  "Stop!” he squawks. "Don't you witches know how to obey Nevermoor’s traffic rules?”

  The air crackles with magic as we step forward into what I assume is some sort of invisible wall Edgar has thrown up to keep us out of the crosswalk.

  “Sorry, Edgar,” Sarah says. “We’re showing Sophia around today. She’s a Fae Princess, you know.” She gives him a boastful smile.

  “Sophia, the Fae Princess? Well, it is an honor.” Edgar’s beak falls open, and he turns, cocking his head at me before sweeping himself into a low, graceful bow. “But see here! Fae Princess or not, you’ll get no special treatment where our laws are concerned.” He straightens and raises one of his spindly bird legs, which he points at me.

  “Come on," complains Myra as she reaches forward to touch the invisible barrier. “No one is breaking any laws, Edgar. There's no traffic.” She gestures toward the empty streets. “No reason for us to be such sticklers for your stupid rules. Let us cross…come on. Please?”

  Edgar makes a high-pitched, angry cawing sound as he fluffs his feathers.

  “I’ll have you know…just last week Mrs. Taylor was almost hit by a car while crossing this very street. This is why we have rules. And when people break the rules, I must enforce the magical barriers. You know the drill, little witchling,” he sings, fluffing his feathers again.

  Ruby turns to us, rolling her eyes.

  “To be fair, Mrs. Taylor is over a hundred years old. She isn't the sharpest tool in the shed anymore,” she says in a low voice.

  Something pops in the trees on the other side of the street. Edgar turns toward the sound, his attention diverted by the minor explosion. As his magical barrier collapses, Myra claps a hand over her mouth, giggling as she pulls us across the street. A small plume of smoke rises from a group of trees, swirling through the air until it forms the word ‘GOTCHA’.

  “Myra,” Sarah hisses, fighting back laughter. "He's going to write you a violation for that! It’ll be something about ‘disrupting the elements to cause mischief’.”

  “Mother Earth herself has entrusted her elements to us. They are ours to disrupt and manipulate as we see fit. Besides, it was worth it, wasn’t it?” Myra laughs, as we all hurry across the street.

  “Violation! Violation,” the raven screeches. “I will write a citation for every one of you.”

  “See?” Sarah shrieks, doubling over and clutching her stomach as she’s overtaken with a fit of giggles.

  “He won’t even remember any of this in five minutes,” Anne laughs, wiping her eyes and sniffling as Myra leans back, bracing against her as she cackles with laughter.

  “Did you see his expression?” Ruby howls, which only makes us laugh harder.

  “Oh, Sophia,” Sarah says, straightening. “It’s been tough for us, but since you got here…” She pauses, catching her breath.

  “I don’t think we’ve had this much fun since we were kids,” Anne gushes. “And we have you to thank.” Anne links her arm through mine again. “You’ve brought the band back together, Sophia.”

  “I’m…glad I could help?” I say, confused.

  As we make our way to the quaint little diner on the corner, I can’t hide the enormous smile that pulls at my lips. Maybe it’s the euphoric side effect of the pain pills or the magic I share with my new friends. But I can’t remember the last time I’ve had so much fun either.

  All small towns have those diners, cafes, and bakeries that set them apart from the bigger cities—those establishments that tourists praise and locals treasure. This diner, like everything else, in Nevermoor is magical. It does not disappoint.

  A bell chimes as we pull open the door and hurry inside. My overactive senses soon pick up on the warm, homey scents of bacon grease and coffee mixed with the aroma of buttery pancakes and fresh baked pumpkin muffins. They smell so good I could cry.

  A young woman about our age with jet-black hair streaked with shocking pink highlights walks up to us, her eyes fixed on me as she flashes a warm smile.

  “Table for…”

  “Hey, Jenn. We have five,” Myra says, trying to stifle her laugh. It only makes us laugh harder.

  “Sorry,” I apologize on behalf of my friends.

  “He’s in a real mood today, Jenn,” Ruby says.

  “Ah.” Jenn gives us a knowing look. “Edgar?” She nods, her eyebrows raised in understanding. “I could hear his squawking all the way in here.” She motions toward the dining room. “Right this way.”

  Everyone in the restaurant watches us as we follow Jenn. She seats us at long table in the back of the diner, away from prying eyes.

  “Best table in the house,” Jenn says, flashing a proud smile. “You can see the sunrise from here, but…” She shrugs, trailing off as she glances out the window at the rain-slicked streets.

  “Thanks, Jenn,” Sarah says. “Hey, have you met Sophia Kelly yet?”

  "No, not yet."

  She bounces on the balls of her feet, her eyes lighting up like a teenager about to meet her very favorite popstar for the very first time.

  “Jenn?” I take her hand in introduction. “It's nice to meet you," I say. “I’m Sophia.”

  And I’m not that big of a deal.

  Jenn takes a moment to steady herself after shaking my hand, and I can see that she’s so nervous, she’s trembling.

  “It’s nice to meet you.” Her face flushes with excitement. “I’ll bring coffee and water,” she says, flustered as she glances down at the table. “And in the meantime…here.” She glances over her shoulder and then points her finger to the middle of the table where two pitchers of mimosas appear. “On the house. But don’t tell my manager.”

  “You know, you're like a celebrity around here," says Anne, reaching for a pitcher. “These are pretty much the best mimosas around. They don’t just give them away.”

  “Yeah. Not at all awkward,” I mutter, taking the pitcher from her once she has filled her champagne flute to the brim. “Why would anyone think I was a celebrity?”

  The other girls stare at me like I’m nuts as they take their seats around the table.

  “Um, hello? Because you're bound to Alexander?” Myra says, rolling her eyes.

  “That’s not the only reason,” Sarah jumps in, scowling at Myra. "It's just that Alexander himself is a celebrity around here, and you’re…” she trails off. "You're with him. You get to sleep with him. We’re all just living through you.” Sarah places her hands over her reddened cheeks and sighs. “We’ve heard stories about his…”

  I quirk an eyebrow at her.

  “Prowess?” Anne asks, jumping in before I can respond.

  Her answer makes my face flame. What has gotten into Anne, anyway?

  “Oh, Sophia. Do spill the beans on that,” Ruby says, taking a long sip of her drink. “What is…that like?”

  “Addictive,” I answer without missing a beat. “Which is fun until he...” Disappears without a trace and leaves you hanging. “Until they call him away on…business.”

  “You guys were just married, too,” Sarah observes, frowning as she runs her fingertip along the rim of her champagne flute.

  “Yes.” I swallow the lump in my throat. “Well, we’re supposed to be lightbound,” I admit. “But my Fae nurses told me after my evaluation that someone sabotaged our ceremony.”

  “What?” Sarah’s mouth falls open. “Sabotaged? As in…it didn’t take then?”

  “Oh, it took all right.” I make a face. “Just not where magic is concerned. From what I understand, we are not bound by magic. So, according to Fae law, it’s not legal.”

  “So you’re just bound by your love for each other?” Anne asks, a whimsical expression floating across her face. “How romantic.”

  “I guess so,” I mutter. “But I haven’t heard from him since I got here. So, who knows if love is still holding us together or not?” I
make air-quotes around love.

  A basket of croissants appears in the middle of the table, and just in time, too. This conversation and lighthearted banter is fading fast. I take a croissant and sink my teeth into it like I haven't eaten in a month.

  “Savage,” Myra says, snickering at me.

  "Hey, I've got pain meds running through my veins right now," I say through a mouthful of croissant. "I'm starving."

  And I don’t want to talk about Alexander and his nonexistent communication skills.

  "So, you haven't heard anything from Alexander since you got here?" Anne asks.

  So much for not wanting to talk about it.

  Myra nudges Anne so hard in the ribs she cries out. Myra gets it. She has relationship issues of her own.

  “No, it's okay," I say, with a brief wave of my hand. “No need to break any ribs.”

  “This is our day of fun,” Myra reminds me, glowering at Anne. “No negative boy-talk.” She gives me a reassuring nod, letting me know she’s got my back.

  “I agree, but you know? It might be good for me to talk about him," I say with a guilty sigh, as I peel another piece of croissant and pop it into my mouth. “Not that I want to kill the mood or anything. But it’s nice to know that I can vent about him if I need to.”

  “You can always vent about guys here,” Sarah says. “We all have. As for Alexander and what he’s thinking? I would not stress out over that. The Fae rarely concern themselves with the petty things we humans do.” She pours herself another mimosa. I think it's her third one already.

  “What Sarah is trying to say is that supernaturals don’t play games with human hearts,” Ruby says. “And the Fae can’t lie.” She shrugs. “So, just ask him what’s going on the next time you see him. He’ll tell you the truth. He has to.”

  “Easier said than done. He’s unavailable. Despite my calling to him.” I hold up my cuff. “What is this thing good for, besides showing the world I’m his…human property?” I sneer down at the bauble.