Reshina
Seraphine sifted us from the chair to a tree outside, then to the wheel of an old carriage. As a Forestfae, she would be the fastest mode of travel all the way across Revelry to the Citrine Cliffs.
I observed that she was tired or still new to her fae powers as with each sift the distance was shorter and her breathing labored. Thirty minutes later, the gold of the Citrine Cliffs shimmered before us.
I set aside the gnawing at my heart. Arthur was still alive.
I’d know if he wasn’t. With the rogue curse I’d taken, I’d be bound to the next person I kissed for six months of the year, forced to remain in their presence for at least half the hours of each day.
Arthur was alive when I’d kissed him, and so, the curse was keeping his heart beating, but it would not wake him, and I feared the strength of the calling Veil over the power of the curse.
When at last Seraphine tumbled us through an old door carved in trees and mushrooms, she fell onto the floor in a loud thunk, sprawled out across a blue woven rug.
“Seraphine!” My son raced from the enormous bed in the room, diving to the floor, picking his wife up into his arms. She moaned, curling into his chest. He finally looked my way, disbelief crossing his face. “Mother?”
“Korven,” I choked. “There isn’t time to explain. Where’s Morella?”
“She is here.” An enormous man rose from the bedside with lightly freckled skin and wild blue eyes, rimmed red. His copper hair fell into his face where a scruffy beard covered his chin and cheeks. “Tell me you can save her,” he pleaded.
“Killian?” I guessed.
He nodded, crossing the room in two strides and taking my arm, leading me to the bed. There my daughter lay over shimmering wings of gold. Her face had sunken, cheeks no longer round, lips no longer plump and red. I pressed a hand to her forehead, recognizing the high temperature.
“How long has she been like this?”
Killian answered me, resuming his bedside vigilance. “Forty-one days and five hours.” He pulled back the blankets over her belly, revealing a budding round shape. “She’s five months along with our child.”
I placed my hand over her, closing my eyes and reaching for the babe. As the Ravenfae Goddess of the Realm, I could find every single one of them. If I concentrated hard enough, I’d feel every Ravenfae life source from the Veil. I breathed a sigh. “Your child is alive and well.”
Killian tore his hands through his hair, rocking in his agitation. “And Morella? What can you do for her?”
“I need you to leave.”
“No,” he snapped.
“Korven,” I called, “escort your wife and Morella’s husband from this room.”
Killian bolted out of his chair. “I will not leave her!”
“You will if you want her to live, now go. She has no time for this.”
“Who do you—”
Korven turned him by the shoulders. “I know you don’t understand, but you need to listen to her. Please. Help Seraphine. She shifted too hard and needs to rest. I promise I will not leave Morella.”
Killian’s eyes darted to me in a sharp glare. The man didn’t trust his wife’s mother, whom he’d never met. That alone told me he was a good husband.
“Alright,” he conceded. “I will not leave this room for long.” He leaned down, sweeping a hand over Morella’s forehead. “Moh Geràdah, Moh Dóches,” he whispered as he kissed her. Turning to Seraphine, he draped her arm over his shoulder and left the room.
“What can you do?” Korven asked quickly.
“Sit there,” I ordered. His brow raised, but he did as I said, sitting on the opposite side of his sister.
“When I was carrying her, I got sick. It’s part of why it took me so long to return to the Brackish Wood and get back to you that summer.”
He nodded silently, pulling his sister’s hand into his.
“It is a sickness that I’ve only seen in Ravenfae mothers.
Our people are the Cursebringers, the race of fae tied most closely to the Veil, and we hold within us memories of our time before we crossed over to this realm.
With her child from the Veil growing inside her, the Veil is thin around Morella.
She comes from a long line of Cursebringers and was originally born to become one. ”
He frowned, his dark eyes furrowed. “You’re saying I’ve done this to her? By taking the role of Cursebringer?”
“No. I have by being away for so long.” I swept my hand over her cheek.
“Keep her hand in yours. Just as the Goddesses did for me when I had this illness, we will take her hands and pull her back from the edge of the Veil, and remind her she is needed here. We will pour everything into it. All our good memories. All our love for her.”
“Your love for her?” He searched my face. “You love Morella?”
“Yes,” I laughed. “And you.”
“Your curse—”
“Has been broken.”
His deep brown eyes limned with tears. “Right. You’ll explain later. I just—are you sure it’s broken?”
“I’ve always loved you and your sister. Only now I can say it. Now I can show it.” I pulled him closer, wrapping my arms around him, telling him again, “I never meant to hurt you.”
He sniffed, composing himself, weary of my confession. “I trust you, mother.”
We took Morella’s hands in ours, eyes closed, searching for her spirit.
I brought forth memories of holding her in my arms as a babe.
Of watching her brother hold her hand as she learned to walk, knowing how dearly I loved them both.
I brought my thoughts closer to the present, watching her sign the contract to be married when she was but fifteen years old, curious if she’d choose to work her way out of it by the time the marriage date neared.
The tug on her spirit was sharp. Korven was finding his sister there too, close to the shadow of the Veil.
We pulled together, he and I, each of us taking a side.
Her spirit was golden, a brilliant light against the dark and with one final memory, she tumbled back with us from the shadows of the Veil.
Through a gasp of air, her eyes flew open, wide and confused.
“Thank the fucking Goddessdamned stars, Morella,” Korven breathed. “Are you alright?”
“What happened? Where am—” Her focus caught mine. “…Mother?”
Her eyes of honey gold widened. “Mother!” She sat upright, throwing her arms around my neck. I held her there, reaching out to pull Korven into the embrace, both of my children back in my arms again where I could love them fully.
Killian soon burst through the door and shoved everyone aside except the guard who had returned with him.
The Changlingfae had rich brown skin and fingers tipped in gold, one baby cradled in the crook of his arm, and my granddaughter hanging off his back.
After they spoke quickly, the man handed the children off to their parents, and I stepped aside to meet my newest granddaughter.
“Her name is Elryci. We call her El for short.”
I took her into my arms, cradling her there and feeling the telltale warmth of love wash over me. “Hello, El.” I kissed her forehead, taking a moment to glance around the room.
Killian and the man I assumed to be his closest advisor still hovered over Morella, who was clearly telling them to get a grip and let her breathe.
I handed El back to Seraphine. “I have to go.”
“But you’ve just arrived.” Korven set his firstborn down onto the ground where she quickly sprinted to the bed, climbing on top and diving into Morella’s arms.
A smile tugged at his lips, but fell when he continued. “You’ve explained nothing. You’ve been gone for a year. A year, mother. An entire fucking year, and—”
I held a hand up between us. “I must get back to Arthur. I have to save him.” I turned to Killian. “Can you take me to Heartstone Castle? Fast as you can?”
He glanced at Morella who nodded. “Yes.”
“Who is Arthur?” Korven fumed.
“Korven.” There was a warning in Seraphine’s voice.
“Wait just a Goddessdamned minute,” he continued, slipping a hand through his hair. “Arthur? Duke-of-fucking-Riche, Arthur?”
“Like I said, I will explain everything upon my return.”
“In what, another year? Two?”
Korven!” Seraphine yanked his arm. “Arthur is her husband. She loves him.”
His glare towards me could have killed a man, but not a Goddess, and before he could say another word, I held my hand out to Killian. With his touch on the headboard, we were gone.
Killian placed me outside the gates of Heartstone Castle within five minutes, grunting a quick apology before sifting away again.
I shifted and flew through the light snowfall, flying into the entrance of the Underrealm, finding the great hall, and sweeping down the western corridor.
I soon reached Piffle who huddled over Arthur’s body.
“Has anything changed?”
“No, Mistress. He is breathing, but this…” He gestured to the knife protruding from his chest. “Is there hope?”
I nodded, rising to my feet. I slipped off my shoes and pinned my hair back into place. “He is not leaving us. Now help me turn him.”
“But that is the wrong way, Mistress!” he shouted as I grabbed the fabric of Arthur’s shoulders, pointing him towards the deepening dark.
“It is the right way, Piffle. It’s time we visit a Goddess.”