Chapter Twenty THE WEDDING Alison
Chapter Twenty
THE WEDDING
Alison
The girls had enjoyed a considerably quieter night than the boys, judging by their encounter in Alison’s garden.
They had started the evening with a lovely ritual Lady Sibba had found in a book in the town archives. They went out to the standing stone circle at the border of Alison and Keir’s properties and shared a bottle of sparkling wine in some fancy goblets Rinka had found at Weldan House.
“The goblets symbolize the feminine vessel,” Lady Sibba read. “We share them and the bonds of sisterhood in this golden circle.”
“Cheers!” said Rinka, holding up her glass.
“Not yet,” said Lady Sibba. She continued reading. “We anoint the bride-to-be and give our blessing for her happy marriage.”
“Anoint?” asked Alison. It was getting pretty cold out with the sun setting. She wasn’t sure she wanted to be covered in wine.
“Oh, there’s meant to be a cup of oil,” said Lady Sibba. “You just dab a little on the forehead.”
“I’ve got it,” said Gwenla. “Won’t be a minute.” The old dwarf hurried off back to the cottage.
“Do you suppose the order of the ritual matters?” asked Ceri, shivering.
“I doubt it,” said Lady Sibba. The elf clutched her heavy cloak to her chest. Even though she was dressed the most warmly, she also seemed the least comfortable.
“Let’s keep going,” said Alison. “We can come back to the anointing.”
“Okay, where were we? Ah, yes. ‘We shower her with flowers to symbolize fertility.’”
There weren’t many flowers blooming at this time of year, but Gwenla had managed to scrounge up a few of the later camellias. It seemed a shame to tear their perfect little petals, but magic demanded sacrifices.
Gwenla made it back in time to shred her own camellia on Alison, and then she dabbed a drop of oil on Alison’s head. “Not too much. I don’t want you to be greasy and have spots on your wedding day.”
“Last thing,” said Lady Sibba. “We raise our glasses to toast the bride’s health and good fortune. Cheers!”
“Cheers!” they all said.
“Quick, let’s get back inside,” said Alison.
They followed her into the cottage, where they shared tea, biscuits, and the kind of story about their partners that would have made Alison’s mother blush (thankfully, she’d turned in early at the inn).
Charlotte had just joined them for a final drink before they turned in themselves when they heard the chaos outside.
“That’ll be Idris,” said Rinka. “It always is when there’s this much of a racket.”
She was right, of course, but it wasn’t just him. Just about every man in town came out of Alison’s hedge maze. Alison was glad to see Mr. Craig apprehended—she was still sore about her treatment with the roof—and even more glad still to see Keir.
He looked like he was having a great night.
His collar was undone, and his dark hair was a mess on his head, but his cheeks were flushed with joy.
She knew this kind of rowdy partying wasn’t really his preference, but she was glad he’d participated in the tradition.
And apparently far from getting into trouble themselves, they’d actually stopped a trouble-maker who was on the loose.
“Those will be our husbands,” Alison said to Rinka. She glanced at Ceri, who smiled, and she even dared to glance at Charlotte, who blushed. She’d read the Julian situation correctly, then.
“Let’s get to bed,” said Rinka. “We need our beauty sleep. Some of us have somewhere to be in the morning, although those boys don’t seem to know it.”
In the morning, Alison and Rinka got ready in Julian’s bakery, which was one of the only places in town to have fully functioning ‘lectrics. Julian and Charlotte finished their work on the wedding cakes (they refused to let Alison see them until they were finished) while Rinka curled Alison’s hair with the ‘lectric curler Keir had bought her.
Ceri came by and offered them some pointers she’d picked up from Ana, her roommate whose mother was a hair stylist back in Turtle Island. “Curl them tight so they’ll stay. Then we’ll brush them out to make them look more natural.”
Ceri was nice enough to help them with their makeup, although Rinka was quite accomplished with it herself.
“I’m grateful to have you both,” said Alison when she saw herself in the looking glass. There were neat lines around Alison’s blue eyes that she never could have managed herself, and her lips were done in a soft plum lipstick that she’d borrowed from Ceri.
“You’re so lovely,” said Rinka, brimming with pride.
“You as well.”
Everyone was looking their best, it turned out. Rinka had made Alison wait until Keir was already in the town hall so he wouldn’t see her before the big moment, but Alison saw most of the town come by after him. It was such a delight to see everyone in their finest clothes.
“Who are they?” asked Ceri, pointing through Julian’s shop window to a couple making their way up the High Street.
It took Alison a moment to recognize them. The fairies Genn and Mab had somehow taken Fulling height once more, even though they were no longer in the fairy world. “They’re the rulers of the fairies, I think,” said Alison. “Or at least the ones in Wilderise. I’m not sure how any of it works.”
“They’re spectacular,” said Ceri. Genn was wearing a fine suit in a blue that perfectly matched the sky, while Mab wore a long gauzy dress in a pale lavender that seemed to shimmer as she walked.
Both of them kept their folded wings behind them, but their white feathers seemed to float behind them like wisps of fog.
Alison laughed as a long-furred creature with floppy ears went running by next—Barney the dog was being chased by Yordin’s children, all of them except for Finnli, who was walking calmly along with Willow. “I bet Willow is furious, but Barney seems to be having a good time.”
“The cakes are done,” said Charlotte, joining them in the front, “if you wanted to sneak a quick peek before you head over. We’ll bring them around after the ceremony.”
Alison went to the back (with Rinka holding her train), and she couldn’t believe what she saw.
“They’re a work of art,” she said. She walked around each cake, admiring it from every angle (and forcing poor Rinka to work very hard not to tangle the lace of her train).
The white cake had a cascade of sugar flowers in pink, yellow, and blue, with a few real pansies mixed in that were almost indistinguishable from the ones they made.
The chocolate cake was glazed to a mirror shine with a simple “A” in the center that looked as though it had been embossed somehow.
“I can’t believe you made them,” said Alison. Then she realized how rude that sounded. “No offense, Charlotte. I know you’re new to baking. When you said Mrs. Knox had to leave, I thought you’d make us something simple. I never expected this. They’re incredible. Thank you. Thank you both.”
“Of course,” said Charlotte, giving Alison a hug. “Welcome to the family.”
Just then, there was a knock at the door.
It was Mab, and in her hands were bouquets of flowers that were out of season: peonies, roses, sprays of lavender, and quite a few flowers Alison had never seen before.
“Hello again, Alison Lennox. I went to the town hall, and the aisle was bare. No flowers to speak of. You can’t have a wedding without flowers.
I’ve gone to the liberty of adding a few.
I hope you’ll accept these bouquets as a token of our congratulations. ”
“Thank you, Mab. But how did you manage? There aren’t many flowers in winter.”
“Not in Wilderise, but there are warmer places. The fairy world has many doors.”
Alison had a lot of questions about travel in the fairy world, but she would have to find out at another time. It was time to head to the town hall.
“Are you ready to be Mrs. Ainsley?” asked Rinka.
“Oh,” said Alison, touching the locket on her chest that held her father’s picture.
In all the madness of planning, Alison had forgotten to decide what to do about her name.
She still wasn’t certain what she wanted, whether she could give up that link to her father forever.
She decided to make the choice in the moment—she’d know what felt right then.
“I’m ready to be Keir’s wife, at least.”
When they arrived at the town hall, they quickly realized that Mab had been operating under a different definition of “few” when she described the flowers she added.
“My Gods, it’s beautiful!” said Rinka. Every inch of wall was covered in a magnificent display of floral color from all around the world. The aisles were adorned at the ends with elaborate arrangements, and a path of white petals led to a grand archway at the back with Weyland’s anvil beneath it.
Underneath the arch stood Gwenla, and beside her, there was Keir.
Alison had seen Keir done up in his best suit before at the balls at Weldan House, but there was something different about him now.
It was in his posture, she realized. She’d never seen him stand straight and tall in all the time she had known him; he’d always seem weighted, as if something sat on his shoulders that kept him from being upright.
Whatever that had been had lifted now. He was light as a feather. When his eyes met hers, his mouth fell open in awe.
Alison could feel his magic from across the room. He’d opened it to her, inviting her in.
She returned the gesture. As if of their own volition, the petals in the aisle lifted into the air and then drifted slowly back down like snowfall as Alison walked down it.
Alison only realized when she reached the end that Rinka must have followed her and that Idris was there standing next to Keir. She looked around at the guests: her family and Keir’s in the front row, all of their friends behind them. It was all happening so fast, it overwhelmed her.
Keir took her hand, and she was back on solid ground again. “You’re beautiful,” he whispered to her.