Marianna
A Week Later…
Some mornings, I can barely drag myself out of bed, but I do. I put on the brave face I have Dean to thank for–a face that hides the internal anguish and dread ripping me to pieces.
But I’m being strong for Skye. I have to. I promised Blake I would be. Some nights when I can’t sleep, I go to the empty, quiet ballroom and fill the space with the sound of my violin, praying he can hear the music through our bond. It’s all I have to hang on to–the only thing keeping me from falling into myself, from giving up.
Now, morning sunlight drifts through the curtains in Blake’s suite as I gather what belongings I’ll need for the day and stuff them in my purse, along with a few snacks and drinks for me and my daughter. She’s in the main living room when I walk out, sliding my sunglasses into my hair while double checking I brought everything we’d need for a day out of… here. Just away. The palace walls have felt like a grim reminder of who won’t be joining us today and why.
She returned from Veiled Valley three days ago. She’s quiet again, falling into the same patterns that used to consume her when we lived in Crescent Falls, before Blake opened her eyes to a world and a family we’d denied her before.
“Ready? I was thinking we could go to the park at the school, but there’s something I want to show you first.”
Skye just looks up from the moonstone spheres she arranged on a coffee table and nods, her eyes heavy and dark–lacking their usual luster. I motion for her to follow, and she obeys without a fight, her fingers sliding into mine as we leave the suite and lock up tight before turning into a maze of hallways and stairwells we both can now maneuver without a single thought.
Staying here instead of returning to the townhouse with my mom… it felt right. Skye is comfortable here, especially given that Maeve and Soren are usually around. It’s safe and quiet. Skye spends most of her time in the garden these days, more so when Sarah and Sydney visit, which is often, but lately I’ve been feeling more than a little lost. Like this place is too big, too wide, and too much of a reminder of what Blake was willing to sacrifice to ensure Skye was safe and our kingdom wouldn’t be going to war.
I’m stuck in my head when we turn onto the balcony with a sweeping view of the first two stories of the castle. Skye gasps, her fingers slipping from mine as she pulls away and begins to dart toward the grand staircase leading to the foyer. For a single second, I let myself hope. I feel that hope shimmer through me, igniting a warmth I haven’t felt since Blake slipped from our bed that fateful morning and never returned.
But I prepare myself for the disappointment and barely feel it wash through me when Skye darts right into Sarah’s open arms.
“How’s my girl? Are you excited for the summer festival? It starts tonight, you know. I thought we could go, all of us.” Sarah squeezes Skye before lowering her to the ground, but her violet eyes are on mine as I slowly ascend the stairs one step at a time, my heart lodged in my throat. “Hey, sweetheart.”
“I didn’t know you were coming,” I say, but I doubt my voice lifts higher than a murmur. The same kind of pain and uncertainty currently tearing me to pieces lingers behind her eyes, but she’s much stronger than me. She beams down at Skye, but her eyes remain sad and hollow. She can hide parts of her feelings, at least.
I just let them out at night, silently screaming into Blake’s cold pillow.
“I wasn’t planning on it but woke up this morning with an urge to come visit. I hope that’s all right.”
I reach her side, and she opens her arms to me, gently gripping me in greeting. “Of course it’s all right,” I reply. “We were just going to go to the park and… take a walk. I didn’t really have plans but…” I look down at Skye, who’s swinging her arms while gazing down at the flickers of light dancing across the floor at our feet–a colorful mural made by the sun reflecting through the stained glass windows. “Come with us, please,” I offer.
Sarah runs her fingers through Skye’s hair and nods, and before long, we’re weaving through the quiet, slightly traumatized streets of Moonrise as the morning sun lifts over the highest buildings, flooding the streets in golden light.
Skye’s school playground is totally empty, much to her disappointment, but she begins to busy herself by collecting smooth stones from beneath the swings while Sarah and I sit beside each other in the shade of a large oak tree.
Sarah folds her arms in her lap while I wind my arms around my knees, tugging them against my chest. Silence settles between us for several minutes as we watch Skye play by herself.
“What is she doing?” Sarah asks, her white-blonde hair lifting in a soft, cool breeze, which is a welcome relief from the stifling mid-summer heat already reaching a near boil.
“She’s been building what she calls faerie houses in the garden back at the castle,” I admit with some effort. “Before he left, Blake read to her some of the old myths Arthur was able to find about… them.” I close my eyes, resisting the urge to bite my tongue. With a deep breath, I continue, “She builds little huts made of pebbles, sticks, and flower stems in hopes the faeries will come at night and return Blake to us.”
Sarah’s lips barely twitch into a smile. “Yeah, Misty said those fables were rather tame in their recollections of what these people are.”
“They’re not small by any means.”
“No. Well, maybe some. But what do we know? Nothing until Blake comes back.” She stretches her legs out in front of her.
I rest my chin on my knee, my eyes still on Skye as she climbs up the side of the play set, her pockets weighed down with rocks. “Did Ryatt talk to Logan and his people yet?”
“Yes,” Sarah breathes, her eyes suddenly downcast. “They… Logan, obviously, remembers very little about his childhood in Emberfyll, and what he does remember is marred by war and strife, so, it doesn’t help us much, but the elders in his pack have some fleeting memories of legends and stories told through the ages about the fae. There’s a song from Emberfyll, an old folklore, that’s meant for children. I heard Brie singing it to Kieran once and thought it was strange but didn’t think about it after that. She heard it from Logan’s people, obviously.” She shifts her weight, relaxing a touch. “It’s meant to deter children from going near still bodies of water. Don’t go to the shore, dear one. She lives beneath the quiet, in the dark, where her teeth shine like diamonds and her nails like polished bone. Stay in the grasses, the marshes, the forests and hills where the wolves roam.”
“She sang that to Kieran?”
Sarah smiles weakly, chuckling, “Admittedly, most nursery rhymes are shockingly sinister and violent, aren’t they?”
I can’t help but agree. “What do you think it means?”
“I think, and the rest of the family agrees, that wherever the fae are from, shifters are… lesser. Maybe even hunted, or enslaved, or worse–outright killed. Ryatt and Ella are under the impression that Emberfyll might have become a kingdom of shifters who tried to leave the land of the fae, and if that’s true, and the legends about the Great War of the Gods is remotely correct, then they were cut off from their own kind by the same Goddess we worship, and I have a hard time believing them.”
Another soft breeze ripples through the branches high above our heads. I let the silence sneak in, let the conversation drop off, and we both watch Skye–our connection to Blake–continue her hunt for stones.
Several minutes later, Sarah takes a huge breath and looks at me. “Marianna, I actually came here for a reason and… there’s something Sydney and I would like you to consider.”
I meet her gaze as dread weaves between my ribs, tightening like laces. “What?”
“I know Skye is going to start school this fall, and your season with the philharmonic begins around the same time but… that’s weeks away, and I wonder if you’d be–if she’d be happier, perhaps, coming back to Crescent Falls for the rest of the summer.”
I swallow past the lump in my throat. I can’t form words. Not yet. Not now. Of course, I’ve been going over our options lately. How could I not? I’m living in Maeve’s castle–Maeve, who’s preparing for war if it comes to that. I’m in Moonrise, which is, by all accounts, shut down completely. I don’t know if Skye’s school will even open for the fall semester at this rate. I don’t know if the philharmonic season will begin on time. Everyone is holding their breaths, waiting for the first shoe to drop, and we’re stuck in the middle of it.
“Leona would come too, of course. We have plenty of room in the castle. In fact, we have too much room,” she says with a small but pained laugh. “I’m a mother of five. I used to pray for silence, but now that my kids are grown, I often wonder what I was thinking back then.”
I take another breath, then another, while my mind reels.
Sarah continues, “Blake may have abdicated the throne, but Skye is still a princess, Marianna. He’s still a prince of Crescent Falls, and that’ll never change.”
“Even if he doesn’t come back?”
Sarah exhales deeply, squinting into the growing sunlight now stretching into our haven of shade. “To be completely, utterly honest, I worry about the two of you being in Moonrise. Blake told no one of his plans. If he’s not successful in whatever deranged plot against the fae he cooked up in secret, you and Skye will be in serious danger. That’s not something Sydney nor I can easily ignore. Maeve can keep you safe, yes, but Moonrise is the capital of Eastonia, and if Eastonia goes to war… Blake would want you as far away from the violence as possible. I want you away from it.” Her voice cracks, but Skye runs in our direction while we both hastily wipe tears from our cheeks. My daughter hands me a flower she swiped from the garden along the playground fence, and Sarah gets a handful of shiny little rocks.
Skye doesn’t even look up at us before darting back to the playground as two families appear at the gate with six children all around her age. She skids to a stop and watches, waiting, I suppose, to see if the friends she made recently are joining them.
“I worry about disrupting her life here. I already moved her from Crescent Falls once.”
“I understand completely.”
“She’s made friends.” The words wobble off my tongue. “I don’t think–I don’t think I can take her away from that.”
“Think about it, okay? Maybe talk to your mom and see what she says–” Sarah cuts herself off abruptly and rises so quickly I feel my body tighten with a sudden sensation of nearby danger.
“Skye!” I call out, and Skye whips her head around, then runs in my direction.
“We need to go back to the castle,” Sarah says under her breath, narrowing her eyes. They glow from within with her powers.
But a blaring siren rips the air to pieces all around us. I look up as Maeve’s powers suddenly stretch across the sky–painting the perfect blue heavens a sparkling crimson before it fades–a shield.
Sarah grabs my wrist as Skye jumps into my arms.
The castle is chaotic and loud when we arrive.
“My mom,” I rush out, setting Skye down in the foyer, but Soren sprints into view, sliding around a corner, breathless.
“Patton is already fetching her,” he pants, but it’s his clothing that catches me by surprise. He’s totally outfitted in Ghost armor from head to toe.
“What happened?” Sarah barks, her voice dropping an octave and dripping with conviction.
“The Deadlands,” Soren pants, adjusting his gloves. “There was an attack in the Deadlands, on the shore of Teshka.” His eyes slide to mine, then back to Sarah. “Have you spoken to Ryan?”
“No?” Sarah searches his eyes. “Soren, what the hell is going on?”
“Lexa and her regiment are missing. They were taken.”