Rising Silver Mist

by Olivia Wildenstein

Purple

  I woke up with a start, my senses on high alert. Even though I was still curled on Cruz’s bed, with my head turned toward the empty window, a presence stirred in the apartment. Water hissed, followed by a low humming that was too feminine to be Cruz.

  The wooden floorboards creaked underneath soft footsteps.

  The humming grew more insistent, and I realized the song was familiar. It was the title melody from Titanic—Mom’s favorite song.

  Without moving, I listened.

  I wondered if this woman had traveled to Earth and watched the movie. I closed my eyes. Her rendition was slower, but still completely on tune. Mom had worked to the soundtrack of the movie for days on end, until she discovered another movie soundtrack and switched it up. But Titanic was a staple that returned, whereas most of the other soundtracks never did.

  The humming stopped so suddenly, my lids flipped up.

  “You’re awake.” A short woman with round, flushed cheeks stood in the doorway of the bathroom. The first thing that struck me was that she didn’t dress like faeries. She wore a stiff green kimono paired with matching wide-leg pants and beige fabric slip-ons. “I’m Veroli.”

  My head spun as I sat up. I placed my palm against it as I stared at Veroli, one of the people Lily told me I could trust.

  “Slowly. Get up slowly. You’ve been sleeping all day.”

  Sure enough, outside, the purple sky had deepened to an ultraviolet shot through with glimmering trails of light. They were the only source of light in the otherwise moonless sky.

  “Lustriums.” Veroli tipped her round chin to the glittery streamers. “They’re clusters of stars. I don’t think you have them where you come from.”

  My eyebrows slanted over my forehead. So she hadn’t come to Earth. But she knew Celine Dion, which must mean faeries had access to earthly entertainment.

  “I drew you a bath.”

  I didn’t want to take an ice bath.

  She let out a little laugh. “Don’t you worry, I heated up the water.”

  I wanted to ask how, but instead, I blurted out, “Are you a faerie?”

  She smiled again. “I am a calidum. Half faerie, half human. I have just enough fire to turn water warm, but not enough to fly. I can hover a couple inches off the ground though.” She demonstrated this by gliding over to the bed. “Lily said you were pretty, but I didn’t expect you to be this pretty. It’s the cheekbones. They’re so high.”

  I brushed off her compliment, not because it wasn’t sweet, but because it surprised me. “Why are you being so nice to me?” I asked cautiously.

  Yes, Lily said I could trust Veroli, but if she liked Lily, then she couldn’t possibly like Cruz. Not after what happened. And me, the girl who caused the rift… How could she even bear to look at me, much less be friendly?

  “Why shouldn’t I be nice to you? Are you a bad person?”

  “No. Maybe. Sometimes. I don’t know.” I tipped my head to the side. “What about Cruz? Do you hate him for what he did to Lily?”

  Her forehead rumpled and little lines burst around her eyes. “You can’t hate your own children.”

  “Cruz is your— I thought Lyoh—”

  “Lyoh is his true mother, but I raised him, so I consider him mine.”

  “Oh.”

  Her mouth curved with a smile. “I also raised Lily and Ace. And my own son, Dawson.”

  Lily had mentioned I could trust Dawson too. “You were their nanny?”

  “I like second mother better, but yes…nanny.” She landed back on the floor with a whoompf. “How’s my Lily adapting?”

  I lowered my legs over the side of the bed, but before standing, I dug my fingers into the soft gray sheets. “She told me to tell you not to worry.”

  “Of course she did. And of course, I will. I really hate faerie rules. Most of them are so darn antiquated!” A tear crept out of her eye. She sniffed and knuckled it away. “I really need to get you ready now.” Her voice was a mere whisper. She rubbed her palms together until they sparked with shallow flames. “Let me reheat the water. It gets cold pretty fast all the way up here.”

  I stood and followed her into the bathroom. When she turned, she craned her neck. “You’re so tall.”

  I cringed.

  “Are all hunters as tall as you are?”

  “No,” I mumbled, swallowing back a lump of shame. How I hated to be reminded how unfeminine…how undainty I looked.

  “You’re just one of the lucky ones, then?”

  “Lucky?”

  “Height is an evolutionary trait in Neverra. Most faerie women are not especially tall.”

  I frowned.

  She unabashedly studied me from head to toe. “Is the water temperature to your liking?”

  I dipped my hand inside. “It’s perfect. Thank you.”

  “Clothes off then.”

  I waited for her to leave.

  She didn’t. “Come on, deary.”

  “I can bathe my own self.”

  “Nonsense. It’s part of my job.”

  “You don’t have—”

  “Right. Ace mentioned humans were prudish. Well, you don’t need to be a prude around me.”

  “I—”

  She clapped.

  Sensing this was a lost battle, I cast away my human primness and unzipped my jeans, then pulled off my tank top. Humming the Titanic tune again, Veroli busied herself with lining up pots that seemed carved out of turquoise. I quickly unclipped my bra, dropped my panties, and slipped into the warm bath.

  Veroli gathered my clothes and put them into a fabric bag, then returned toward me. Keeping my arms tied around my chest, I asked, “You’ve seen Titanic?”

  She stopped humming and went as white as Cruz’s comforter. “No.”

  Her reaction told me she had, but for some reason needed to lie about it. Were human movies forbidden here?

  “What is Titanic?” Her eyes darted to the side even though there was nothing to see on the side.

  “A movie. The song you’re humming was the lead song on the soundtrack.”

  Fingers trembling, she scooped something out of a turquoise pot. It looked like soap but it could’ve been frog saliva for all I knew. “You don’t say.”

  “It was my mother’s favorite movie. Favorite song too.”

  “She doesn’t like it anymore?”

  My heart rattled. “She died. A couple months ago.”

  Veroli clapped her mouth. “Oh, deary. Cruz told me, but I forgot. Oh, I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s okay.” I pulled my knees into my chest.

  In silence, Veroli worked whatever she had in the palm of her hand into my hair, and then she scooped water out with a shiny gray shell and poured it over my head. Warm water that smelled like lavender and musk ran down my face. She applied something else to my hair, then used a comb to help it penetrate. “No wonder my boys have been fighting over you.”

  I sucked in some air.

  “You’re so exotic-looking.” When I stayed silent, she asked, “So how did Cruz win your heart?”

  “He didn’t.”

  Her hands stilled on my hair, and silence stretched between us.

  After a long while, her voice broke the stillness. “Then why did you ask him to marry you?”

  I wished she would start humming again, if only to replace the misery ballooning in my chest. “Since when do faeries marry for love?”

  Slowly, she tugged the comb through my hair. “I thought humans married for love.”

  “But I’m not human, am I?” My voice was a biting whisper. This woman didn’t deserve that tone. I sighed so deeply, it made the surface of the water quiver. “I’m sorry. For snapping at you. It’s not your fault.” My voice broke. “None of this is your fault.”

  Veroli’s plump hand cupped my cheek and pulled my face up toward hers. “You don’t owe me an explanation. I’m sure you have your reasons for marrying Cruz. I know what he did to Lily was…unexpected, but I don’t think he was trying
to hurt her. I think there is more than meets the eye…and I suppose I hoped you would know something I didn’t. None of my children are talking to me. Well, not about the important stuff. And they’re not talking to each other either, and I’m worried because I love each one equally and irrevocably.” Her warm, calloused thumb slid over my cheek, before releasing my face. “Or maybe Dawson is right, and my heart is filtering out the truth.”

  I didn’t dare say anything after that, because truth was, I didn’t know what to say. Veroli rinsed my hair and then ran a soft sponge over my shoulders with that same musky-smelling soap. Aylen would love the smell. The thought of my aunt made me tuck my knees closer. I should’ve called her before leaving. Should’ve asked how she was doing. Should’ve told Kajika to send one of his hunters to check up on her. No. I didn’t trust any of his hunters. I didn’t even trust Gwenelda. Only him. I should’ve asked him to go check on her.

  I inhaled the sweet perfume. “My aunt makes soaps. She’d love this one.”

  “She might not love it as much if she knew how it was made.” I felt a smile in her words.

  Eyes wide, I looked up. “How—”

  “Beetle shells.”

  “B-bug shells?”

  “Once dried, the shells are crushed and—” Veroli must’ve sensed my disgust because she said, “I should probably have told you it came from a flower.”

  I shook my head. “I appreciate the honesty.” The problem was that now, I didn’t feel clean. Who would after bathing in desiccated insects?

  Veroli asked me about my aunt, which got me speaking of home. Her eyes glazed over in wonder as I told her about Rowan, about my father, about the beach and the lake. Soon I was towel-dried and made-up, and she’d weaved my hair into an elaborate braid laced with gold chains.

  “Now for the dress.”

  She went into the bedroom and returned minutes later with a swath of purple draped over her forearms. “Brides get engaged in purple, then marry in red.”

  “Did you make this dress?”

  “I don’t have that talent, deary. This was made in the palace by the queen’s seamstress.” She pinched the shoulders and let the fabric unspool. It scintillated as it settled over the wooden floor, gleaming purple and silver. Stones that resembled small diamonds glittered at the neckline and hem.

  I touched one. “Are these…diamonds?”

  “Yes.”

  “Real ones?”

  Veroli nodded. “Caligosupra don’t wear fake ones.”

  I’d never possessed a diamond before, much less an entire dress dripping in them. Veroli slid it over my head and tightened the violet ribbons woven in the back until the top was so snug I could barely breathe. Thankfully the skirt was fluid and floated around my legs.

  “Mother?” yelled an unfamiliar voice.

  “She’s almost ready, Dawson.” Veroli tugged on the ribbon one last time, then walked around me and took me in. When she smiled, I flushed.

  My bare feet gleamed with red nail polish. “What about shoes?”

  “Seelies don’t wear shoes.”

  “You wear shoes.”

  “I’m a calidum, not a Seelie.”

  I wanted to tell her that I wasn’t a Seelie either, but she latched on to my waist and spun me so I could see my reflection in the mirror behind me.

  I blinked at the girl staring back.

  It wasn’t me.

  But it was.

  “Thank the skies you are getting engaged tonight.” When I frowned, she added, “Unbound women can be claimed by any man and”—she dropped her voice to a loud whisper—“another archaic rule is that women must submit to men’s desires if those men are superior to them on the social ladder.”

  I gasped, appalled. “You’re kidding?”

  “Sadly not, deary. I tell you, so much needs to be changed here. Dawson, she’s ready.”

  No footsteps warned me of the arrival of another person. The newcomer’s bare feet didn’t rest on the ground. They hovered several inches above it. The boy was blond with a sprinkling of freckles that turned red when his wide blue eyes set on me.

  Dawson ran a hand through his wild hair, his eyes darting everywhere but at me. “I’ll be your taxi tonight.”

  “My taxi?”

  Veroli laughed behind me. I spun toward her to understand. Once she got herself under control, she said, “Dawson’s flying you over to the palace.”

  “Oh.” I’d assumed Cruz would be back for me.

  “Don’t worry. I have a good track record. I only drop twenty percent of my customers.”

  My eyes widened and my mouth rounded in a gasp.

  “Dawson!” his mother said.

  He rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry. That was probably not funny. I’m nervous. I’ve never seen a girl like you. Wow.” His face glowed as red as a stop sign. “I have no filter. Sorry.” A sheepish grin lit up his face. “I promise I won’t drop you.”

  In spite of all the sucky feelings and panic coursing through me, I smiled. “I’d appreciate not being dropped.”

  “I’m sorry, my boy is a talker. Takes after his father.” Veroli yelped with laughter.

  “Sheesh, Mom, Catori will think we’re wacky.”

  “Humor has never hurt anyone.”

  She was right. Humor was a balm, not a weapon. “Thank you, Veroli.”

  “It was an honor to be at your service, deary. Now you better get going, or you’ll be late.” She began to rearrange the messy bathroom.

  “You’re coming, aren’t you?”

  “Me? No. Calidums aren’t allowed to attend royal ceremonies.”

  “I’d like you to come.”

  She smiled at me, then touched two fingers to the word human tattooed on the top of my hand, over the faint white W. “I have so much to do.” She pulled back her fingers. “You must go now. I don’t want to get in trouble for not delivering the future bride on time. May the skies bless you, dear Catori.” She closed her eyes and curtsied.

  Which made me flush. When I hadn’t moved for a long time, Dawson spoke my name.

  It made me jump. How many times had I startled today?

  He gestured for me to follow him. Not wanting to get either mother or son in trouble, I trailed him through the dimly-lit apartment, but stopped next to the roaring fireplace. Squeezing my hands into fists, I watched the flames dance.

  Six months ago, I’d been celebrating the holidays with my family around another fire, discussing plans for my future. None of those plans had included moving to another world and participating in a sham wedding. All of them had included realistic human dreams: acing classes, landing a summer internship in a hospital or a clinic, maybe meeting a nice boy. None of those plans had included getting married.

  Married.

  Shit.

  Black dots ate away at my peripheral vision. I lowered myself into one of the chairs, tucked my head between my knees, and breathed.

  A warm hand touched my shoulder. I flinched. The hand lifted.

  “Catori?”

  Filling my lungs with what felt like my last breath, I looked up into the boy’s concerned face.

  “Nervous?” he asked.

  My gaze slid back to the fire. All of this was a strange dream, but like with all dreams, I would wake up.

  I would get out of here.

  Eighteen days.

  Almost seventeen.

  I stood up, my eyesight clearing. Clear.

  “Your tattoo’s neat by the way,” Dawson said.

  I touched my neck. Even though it pulsed, the dust had become part of me, like a second heart, so I tended to forget it was there. As I drew my hand away, the dust stuck to my fingertip, glowing like a golden ribbon.

  Dawson backed away, stumbling into the chair next to him. “Y-you have wita?” he stammered, while I lifted my fingers in front of my face.

  The ribbon seemed almost solid. Never had it looked like anything other than particles. Had I lost my sight? Had coming to Neverra somehow annihilat
ed my hunter gift?

  My name was spoken, but it sounded like it was coming from a great distance.

  Was I actually part Seelie somehow? Maybe Ley wasn’t related to me, but maybe I was still related to a faerie. Maybe I wasn’t Daneelie after all. Or was I all three? Could a human be all three? Four, if you took human into account.

  Human…

  Was I even still a human?

  “Catori!”

  This time, I snapped out of my daze. My hand jerked down to my hip. The ribbon tore off my fingers and nipped my neck, the dust returning to its home underneath my skin.

  Veroli stood next to her son, the top of her head barely reaching his shoulder. They both gaped at me, the flames from the fire flickering in their wary eyes.

  “I told you she was more Seelie than Unseelie,” Dawson whispered loudly.

  Veroli glared at him, then turned her slanted gaze to me. “She doesn’t have fire in her veins. Maybe a calidum?”

  I swallowed, not really knowing what they wanted to hear. Would it reassure them if I confirmed I was part Seelie? I lowered my eyes to my immobile hands, to the glossy, blood-red polish Veroli had brushed on my nails to match my mother’s ring. “I don’t know what I am.”

  Silence entrenched all three of us.

  Veroli huffed after a very long moment. “What you are is late. Very late. Dawson, take the girl now before they send a lucionaga to fetch her. They are not the most gentle specimen in Neverra.”

  I shivered at the thought of a lethal faerie guard coming for me. Veroli’s gaze trailed me all the way to the platform outside the apartment door.

  “So I have to admit something.” Dawson raked his hand through his tousled hair. “I’ve never carried anyone before.”

  I stayed close to the trunk. I didn’t think some magnetic force would drag me down into the black void, but having something to hold onto was reassuring. “Never?” I croaked.

  “I mean, I’ve carried girlfriends… Okay no.” He scratched his ear. “I haven’t.”

  I wasn’t sure whether to be amused or terrified.

  “Ace was supposed to come, but he told Cruz he couldn’t make it, so Cruz asked me.”

  My heart lurched. Ace was supposed to bring me. What sort of twisted scheme had Cruz thought up? Resentment supplanted shock. “I’m sure you’ll make a great…taxi.”