Chapter 28
Poppy
PROFESSOR SILVERMOON TOLD ME THAT Aurora has four partners, but somehow, I didn’t expect . . . this.
Alden and Rowan, who has long red hair and eyes as green as Aurora’s, are her two human partners, but the other two certainly don’t look human, even if I’m not quite sure what they are.
Faolan is huge. When he approached the table, with his long dark hair hanging loose and a thin tunic clinging to his broad chest, I’m pretty sure I subconsciously shrank back against Aric.
Thorne, on the other hand, is tall but lean, with snow-white hair and silver-gray eyes that remind me of ice in the winter.
He walks with a cane, but when he and Faolan approached together, Faolan walked along at his pace, in no rush, while a girl with silvery hair skipped along behind them, wearing a crown of autumn leaves atop her head.
Now we all sit around the big outdoor table, with Alden bouncing the brown-haired child on one knee while he eats with the other hand. Rowan sits on the other side of Aurora, his arm draped along the back of her chair, and he looks at her like she holds all the stars in the sky.
Under the table, Aric bumps my knee with his, and I have to fight not to let warmth rise into my cheeks.
“You’re students at Coven Crest?” the oldest girl, Soleil, asks me. She’s seated on her knees, leaning on the table a bit, like she’s hooked on every word we say.
“We are.” I nod. “I’m a third-year, and Aric’s going to be graduating this year.”
“Maybe,” he mumbles around a spoonful of vegetable soup.
Aurora’s brow furrows, and she lets out a small sigh. “I know all about that.”
“Yeah, she does,” says the second-oldest girl, the one with the flower crown, whose name I think is Astra. It’s hard to keep track. “Mama was a terrible student. She almost got kicked out.” She and Soleil titter with laughter.
Faolan narrows his blue eyes. “Eat. And stop teasing your mother.”
“You tease her all the time,” Astra says, but she shoves a big chunk of bread into her mouth to appease him, and seeing the way they glare at each other across the table, I come to the conclusion that Astra must be Faolan’s daughter.
She has the same brown skin, if a bit lighter, and their blue eyes are mirrors of each other.
“And you know Auntie Selene?” Soleil asks.
I nod while smearing what looks like apple butter onto my slice of sourdough. “I do. I’m her student assistant. She’s the one who sent me here.”
Soleil tips her head, her vivid green eyes catching the sunlight. “For what?”
“Well, for . . .” I pause. Professor Silvermoon never actually told me what I’m supposed to get—just that Aurora would have it. “I’m not sure. She didn’t say.” My eyes flick to Aurora, and she casts a gaze at Thorne.
“For this,” he says, and now that he’s spoken for the first time, I detect some hint of a lyrical accent to his tone, something not typical in Wysteria, but I don’t have a clue what it might be.
He reaches into the inside pocket of his vest and pulls out a vial, then holds it up for all of us to see.
Inside is a luminous substance that looks like clouds, and it drifts around the glass like it’s a living thing, searching for a way out.
Unsettled, I sit back. This makes Thorne laugh, and again, something about the sound of his voice reminds me of nature, though I have no clue why.
“What is it?” Aric asks, leaning forward to get a closer look, not the least bit deterred by the odd moving substance.
“My people have another word for it,” Thorne says, “but here, it’s known as memory mist.”
Memory mist . . .
I’ve heard of it before. It’s a rare substance, because it only naturally exists in—
Oh.
Thorne’s silver-gray eyes focus on me, and I try not to gulp.
Memory mist comes from Fairyland. Meaning Thorne is one of them—the fair folk.
I suddenly feel like I have no idea how to act or what to say.
“What does it do?” Aric asks, seemingly unaware that the man sitting across from him is a fairy, a creature so rare that most people believe they don’t even exist anymore.
Thorne tips the vial and explains, “The mist shows you glimpses of your memories and desires. Though the visions aren’t always exact mirrors of our past, they’re emotionally true, leading to a deeper understanding of self.
My people use the mist as a sort of . . .
” He waves one of his elegant hands, searching for the right word.
“Hallucinogen?” Rowan offers, one of his red brows arching in the corner.
Thorne’s lips pull up on one side. “Yes and no. It’s a more personal experience than that, but we use it as a means of self-reflection and inner exploration.”
“Can I try it?” Astra asks, reaching for the vial, but Thorne holds it up so her fingers can’t quite touch it. She puffs her cheeks out and glares at him.
“Your auntie specifically requested this,” he explains to her. Then he reaches across the table, offering the vial to me. “Use it wisely, Miss Waverly.”
I blink, still unsettled by him, then carefully reach out and take it from his hand. “Th-thank you,” I say quickly. “I’ll take good care of it.”
“I’m certain you will,” he says, his mouth tilting up in the corners.
I carefully tuck the vial into my satchel, making sure it’s secure, then glance up to find Aurora watching me with a small smile.
“Would you mind helping me bring out dessert?” she asks, standing from the table and pushing her long green braid over her shoulder. “I made an apple tart, and it’s still cooling in the kitchen.”
“Of course,” I say, grateful for something to do after the strange intensity of receiving the memory mist from a fairy.
I follow Aurora back into the warm cottage kitchen. The apple tart sits on the counter, golden and perfect, steam still rising from the sugar-dusted latticed crust.
Aurora moves to the cupboard to retrieve plates, and I glance around, not quite sure what to do with myself.
“How long have you and Selene been planning this ball?” she asks. “We never had a ball when I was at the academy.”
“Since the start of the semester,” I say. “It’s the first time I’ve helped plan something this big. It’s . . .” I reach up and grasp a strand of hair, rubbing it between my forefinger and thumb. “It’s a lot.”
Aurora glances over her shoulder with a smile.
“I imagine it is. But Selene has always loved a good party.” She sets the plates down and begins cutting the tart into generous slices, sending the sweet scent of sugar and cinnamon swirling around the kitchen.
“We’re different that way. She loves the city, lots of excitement, always something new happening.
I prefer the quiet life—good food, family, a garden to tend. It’s more than enough for me.”
“I’m the same way,” I say. “And it’s beautiful here. Your home, I mean. And your family.” I glance out the kitchen window to see that Faolan and Astra are now wrestling in the autumn grass—and she’s putting up quite the fight—while the chickens scamper around, clucking in irritation.
“Thank you.” Aurora’s expression softens.
“It took time to build though. And it wasn’t always easy.
” She plates a slice of apple tart, then another.
“When I first left Coven Crest, I didn’t have a plan.
I just knew I didn’t want what my mother expected of me: marriage to some wealthy man, a job in the city, that sort of thing.
My auntie had recently passed, and she left me this place.
” Aurora glances around the sunlit kitchen.
“But it needed a lot of work. Harrison and I slept on this floor in front of the fire our first night here. There were even holes in the roof.” She laughs and shakes her head.
I lean against the counter. “How’d you meet them?” My gaze flicks out the window to land on Aurora’s four partners.
“I met Alden first,” she says, a distant smile on her face.
“He agreed to help me fix the cottage up, though not without plenty of grumpiness and complaints.” The laugh she lets out is soft and lilting.
“He made me feel like it was okay not to have all the answers yet. And he made me feel at home here.” She pauses, looking out the window toward the table, where Alden sits, the youngest daughter now cradled in his arms, fast asleep in the golden sunlight.
“That summer, I met Rowan, then Faolan, then Thorne. Each of them fit into my life in ways I never anticipated. Ways that made sense even though they shouldn’t have, if you know what I mean. ”
I nod. Even though Aurora’s life is wildly different from most, her family feels full of love. In some ways, it reminds me of my home, up above the café, with just me and Mama.
Aurora turns back to me, and in the light coming through the window, I spot a few fine lines around the corners of her eyes, like she’s spent a lot of time laughing and smiling and squinting in sun.
“The life I have now is better than anything I could’ve hoped or planned for when I was your age.
But getting here meant letting go of what I thought my life should look like and trusting that it would work out even when I couldn’t see how.
” She hands me two plates, which are surprisingly heavy with the big slices of apple tart.
“Sometimes the hardest part is just . . . taking the first step. Doing something you never thought you would. Even if you’re scared.
” Her green eyes meet mine, sparkling in the sunlight.
“Were you?” I ask quietly. “Scared, I mean?”
“Terrified,” she says with a soft laugh.
“Constantly. Still am sometimes, if I’m honest. Kids will do that to you.
But the people in our lives who matter most?
They’re worth the fear. At least, that’s what I’ve found.
” She picks up a few more plates, balancing them carefully on her forearms, like she’s used to this.
“The people we’re meant for are rarely the easiest ones to love, but they’re the ones who make us braver. ”
The words settle over me, and though I’m not sure if she’s talking about her own life or if she somehow saw something between me and Aric, I take them to heart, storing them away for later.
“Come on,” Aurora says, her tone brightening. “Let’s get this outside before the girls stage a revolt.”
As we walk back out into the autumn sunshine, I spot Aric immediately.
He’s crouched down near the garden, helping one of the younger girls—I think her name is Wynn—examine something in the dirt, probably a beetle or a worm.
His tusks glint in the sun as he speaks to her, and when the little girl squeals with delight, he laughs, the sound rich and warm.
Butterflies dance in my stomach as I watch him, and Aurora’s words echo in my mind.
I think about the future—about graduation, about what comes next, about all the uncertainty. About how Aric doesn’t even know what he wants to do after he leaves the academy, and how that scares me too, because what if his path takes him somewhere I can’t follow? Somewhere far away from me?
But then he looks up and sees me standing there, and the smile he gives me makes everything else fade away, until all I see is him.
Maybe Aurora’s right and the people worth loving really do make us braver.
I just need to let myself be brave enough to find out.
“Poppy!” Soleil calls, waving me over to the table. “Come sit by me for dessert!”
I set the plates down on the table, and Aric rises from beside the garden, brushing dirt off his hands. He comes to stand beside me, close enough that our arms brush.
“You okay?” he asks quietly, his hazel eyes searching my face.
I nod, managing a small smile. “Yeah. I’m good.”
He doesn’t look entirely convinced, but he doesn’t push. Instead, he thanks Aurora as she passes him a plate of tart.
While we talk and laugh and enjoy our dessert, the afternoon sun filters through the trees lining the property, making everything feel golden and possible.
And it all makes me feel just a little bit braver.