Chapter 19
ROSE
I’m grateful that despite the strange undergarments, Zara appears to have taken into account what my preferences would be when purchasing clothing on my behalf.
With an appropriate amount of muttered curses, Zak manages to strap me into a modern day bra — “And you teased me for my old clothes being impractical!” I tell him — and then hands me a white t-shirt and finally a beige woollen jumper to layer over the top.
For my bottom half there’s a long, floor-length black skirt with an incredible amount of stretch in the fabric, and while it hugs the body, it feels wonderfully comfortable.
It looks different to anything I’ve ever worn before, but it’s not terrible, just strange.
“And I keep my hair loose?”
“Yeah, if you want to,” Zak says, running a comb through it for me. “I love your hair as it is, you don’t need to do anything to it.”
Zak wears a variation of the clothes I’ve seen him in many times before: soft fabric pants and a t-shirt, plus a hoodie that would go down to my knees were I to put it on.
He picks up his phone, his brow rising in surprise.
“Your sister is downstairs,” he says, staring at the screen. “They just arrived.”
For the briefest moment, my mind plays tricks, and I think of Amaryllis, before realising that he of course means Ellie. He sees it play out across my face, and swears softly under his breath.
“I’m sorry babe, that was shit wording on my part.”
“No, it’s fine. She is my sister.”
“Ready to go meet her?”
I shake my head, burying my face in my hands for a moment and taking a deep breath in through my nose. “I don’t think one is ever ready for moments such as these,” I whisper.
“Yeah, that’s true.” Zak holds out his hand and I take it, my fingers lacing with his. “But I’ll be with you every step of the way.”
My heart is in my throat. I’m incapable of speech as we walk hand in hand down the wide staircase to the lower floor. I spot Evander’s tall figure first, and then a petite blonde woman rises from a chair beside him, her expression an echo of all of my emotions.
The rest of the house appears empty.
Ellie steps forward as we approach, and it feels so very natural to let go of Zak and walk directly into her open arms. I don’t know how long we stand there for, held in each other’s embrace, the small swell of her pregnant belly between us, but both our faces are wet with tears when we pull back.
“Hello,” I whisper.
“Hi,” she smiles softly, her wet lashes clumping together.
We cling to each other’s elbows, staring into each other’s eyes, examining each other’s faces.
She must look like her mother, but when she smiles I see the ghost of Papa’s mouth.
Her hair is just a tad more golden than mine, hints of red catching in the light that streams through the endless windows in this strange building.
“I heard you like gardening.” She has the same accent as Zak, stronger than mine, modern Kiwi as Zak once described it. I nod in reply.
“Yes, very much.”
“It must run in the family.”
“It does.” I can say that with absolute certainty. “We all loved the garden, apart from my mother.”
Ellie grins. “That’s proof enough for me.”
I nod. “I have no doubts at all.” It’s true. I know it somehow, deep in my bones and in the blood that runs through my veins that this is my sister. “Are your ears like mine?”
“I think so.” She tucks her long hair behind her ears — and yes, they each have a point, just like mine — and I do the same.
A small silence follows. I have so many questions, and yet I can’t bring myself to voice any of them.
I have a feeling that Ellie is in the same position. “How are you feeling?” she eventually asks, a small crease on her brow.
I shrug, breaking away from her gaze, part of me wanting nothing more than to focus on the frivolous things — the stark beauty of this house, the prettiness of this location in the forest. “I…” I begin, trying to formulate the words that encompass how I truly feel.
“It seems so very wrong to hold grief and gratitude in my heart all at once, and yet I do,” I say honestly.
“I have had this feeling, since first appearing in the nights as an apparition, that my sisters are no longer with us. I think your husband is about to confirm that news,” I add, glancing at Evander’s face.
His already clenched jaw moves as he grinds his teeth.
Ellie nods, blinking back fresh tears. “He told me just before. I’m so sorry.”
“It seems so silly,” I whisper, crying fresh tears, wiping them away with my fingers. “I was gone for one hundred and ten years. Of course they aren’t alive anymore.”
“It’s not silly,” she says quietly. “You know what we are, you know that can change things, like the length of someone’s life. It’s not silly to have held on to hope.”
“I’m sorry,” Evander says, his face sombre as he addresses me directly. “I know what it’s like to lose a sibling.”
The room is as silent as the dead, and I continue to wipe away my fresh tears.
“When?” I ask Evander once I can speak again.
“Amaryllis passed away in pre-Unravelling times, from natural causes. This was back in 2003. She was one hundred and three years old. That’s almost unheard of, for humans.”
“The glamour gave her a human lifespan,” Ellie adds. “A hundred and three is amazing.”
“She married, but never had any children. By all accounts that we’ve been able to find, she lived a happy life.”
“And Iris?”
My memories of Iris feel only a few months old. My sweet, innocent baby sister, with blonde ringlets and the cheekiest of smiles.
“She passed last month,” Evander says solemnly. “She was one hundred and twenty years old, and since the Unravelling, had been living without glamour.”
One month. I blink back fresh tears, and Zak wraps his arm around my waist. “It feels particularly cruel to have missed seeing her by such a small amount of time,” I whisper.
“I know,” Evander says. “And it’s equally as cruel that you were kept the way you were by the fae for so long.
In an ideal world, I would just leave the conversation at that, give you time to grieve, and give you and Zak time to yourselves here.
You’ve been through a huge ordeal. Unfortunately, we don’t live in an ideal world.
There’s quite a lot for us to discuss. Ellie and I chose to come here this morning to meet with you, rather than having you come to Motuwai as I’d mentioned in front of the werewolf coven last night. ”
“You’ve thrown them off the trail,” Zak comments.
“Yes. I want us,” Evander says, gesturing in a way that indicates us four, “to all be on the same page about all of this. The High Witch has a lot of power and she’s not used to being told no. She wants both Ellie and Rose in the First Realm. That’s not happening.”
“Definitely not,” Zak agrees.
“And then there’s the matter of Rose’s father. Our father, I guess,” Ellie adds. She turns to look at Evander. “You brought the tablet, eh?”
He nods, giving his wife an amused smile as he lifts what looks like an enlarged version of Zak’s phone to show her. “It’s been in my hand the whole time. Why don’t we sit down?” he asks, addressing me directly. “I know Ellie would appreciate it.”
Ellie rolls her eyes, one hand on her belly. “I mean, I wouldn’t say no to resting.”
The seats in question aren’t inside, but instead on a wide wooden platform that extends out into the surrounding canopy of tree ferns and nikau palms. It takes me a moment to realise there’s glass panels around the entirety of it, creating a sturdy barrier of windows.
I’ve never seen balustrades like it before.
The iciness of early morning has given way to sunny winter warmth, at least in this spot.
I lean against the glass, closing my eyes, listening to the birdsong and trying not to cry for the third or fourth or fifth time this morning.
I’ve lost count, and it’s hard not to weep from gratitude at this chance to experience life again.
Zak knows. He stands behind me, a wall of a man, wrapping his arms around me. “It’s a good day to be alive,” he murmurs, and I nod, leaning back against him, enjoying the sounds of the forest.
I’m grateful to Ellie and Evander for giving us the space we need.
There’s no rushing, just a sense of calm contentment as we join them on their large, cushioned seating, arranged around a short central table.
“I can’t believe I somehow missed that,” Zak says, nodding at Ellie’s rounded belly.
It’s not large — not yet — but it’s obvious enough.
“Would you believe me if I said I just popped in the last twenty four hours?” She smiles at him.
“But also, the outfit today is doing all the work in showing it off, versus the dress I wore to the wedding was an empire waistline with lots of flowing fabric, so you were never going to see much underneath that unless I pulled it tight.”
Evander hands over the tablet once I’m settled next to Zak. I gasp when I see the image that appears on the screen, while Zak whispers “Holy shit.”
It’s Papa, standing in what appears to be a building.
The photograph has been taken from above, but I would recognise his frame anywhere — tall, broad-shouldered, and with lean muscle.
In the image, his blonde hair is messy and a little longer than it used to be.
It reminds me of his days spent at home, when he would refuse to slick his hair back despite Mama always asking him, “But what if someone drops by?”
“This is him, right?” Ellie asks quietly. “My mum said it looks like him.”
“It’s him.” I brush back another tear. “When was this?”