TWENTY-TWO
SOPHIA
Sophia walked along the sunny pathway leading directly towards the wooded area, past the pasture on the back side of the property. She looked out at the trail leading across the sunny meadow, sitting between her and the woods. She headed for these woods now. She’d avoided them for a long, long time. Now, it was time to face her pain—and her fear—because she couldn’t help her friends until she first faced this place, her mother’s people.
Her daughter’s tiny hand felt warm in her own, as she stared at the butterflies flitting this way and that around her.
“Pretty,” Kira said.
Sophia nodded. “Yes, they’re very pretty,” said, almost automatically.
Kira pointed at a flower, “Pretty,” she said, giggling.
Sophia nodded. “They’re very pretty,” she repeated, this time for the flowers.
Her gaze scanned the woods. Sensing nothing dark, she stepped into the woods with her daughter in tow. They walked along the trail, the sun shining through the trees above, dappling the ground with patches of shade. So, beautiful.
She quieted, taking a deep breath. She realized she could only truly breathe when she came here. She stopped, closing her eyes, letting herself feel the shift around her. When she opened them again, things seemed brighter, the colors more intense.
The Land of the Fae.
She didn’t want to admit to it—but she missed it here. Still, she didn’t dare tell her mother that.
The woods, themselves, brought her peace—refilled her soul. But the Land of the Fae intensified that many times over. She closed her eyes and took another breath.
When she opened her them, Thorick stood there.
She blinked.
“So, you have decided to visit your home,” he said.
She bit her lip, then shrugged. “I can’t keep Kira blinded to the truth, the way the sister’s parents did,” she said, gesturing back towards the manor.
He nodded. “They didn’t solve anything,” he agreed. “If anything, they put them in more danger, not less.”
“I guess that’s what you tried to tell me all along,” she said, “that I couldn’t ignore who or what I am. That I’d have to face the truth one day.”
He nodded. He didn’t try to spare her feelings. Besides, the Fae couldn’t lie.
She smiled at him. “I have missed you, Thorick. I am deeply sorry for how I’ve treated you. You’ve been a good friend.”
He inclined his head. “It’s forgotten.”
She nodded. “Thank you,” she said.
“Think no more of it.”
She glanced up at him, then gave a little giggle. “By the way, how did you escape the twins?”
He grinned. “He blinked.”
She started laughing. “And you were gone,” she said.
Her mother appeared from alongside a tree. “I got your message, daughter,” she said. She came forward and hugged her, then picked up her granddaughter, smiling trough her tears. “Oh, it’s good to have you back.”
Sophia frowned. “I cannot stay, mother,” she said.
Her mother eyes met her own, over her granddaughter’s strawberry curls. “I know,” she answered quietly. “But it’s good you’re here now.”
Shantra considered Thorick. “And—it’s good that you watch over her,” she said.
Sophia flushed. “He watches over my friends,” she corrected.
Her mother chuckled. “He watches over you, Daughter.”
Sophia bit her lip. She hadn’t meant to sound ungracious. Of course, he watched over all of them, too. He’d been appointed to protect them. He, and several others, her friends knew nothing about.
She turned, to lead her daughter further into the woods. “Where do your friends think, you are, right now?”
“I told them I was taking Kira to get some ice cream.”
Her mother’s laughter tinkled across the woods, causing all of life around her to shimmer. “And so, we shall,” she said, gazing at her granddaughter’s bright face. “And so, we shall.”
Sophia eyed her, sharply. “We cannot stay long,” she said. “They’ll wonder where we got off to.”
Her mother gazed at her wistfully. “Do you think they would mind so much, daughter? They are witches, after all.”
Sophia glanced down, flushing, glad they were walking, and her mother wasn’t watching her face. “I know, mother,” she said. “I’m sorry. I’ve been keeping this secret for so long….”
Shantra stilled. “Your father should not have instilled such fear in you. That was never my intention.”
Sophia stopped, short. “Then what was your intention, mother? Because I would like to know.”
Shantra seemed hurt by the anger in her daughter’s voice.
They walked in silence for the rest of the way to her mother’s cottage. Her little cabin sat in a grove of trees. Wildflowers grew along the pathway on both sides. If she paid attention, she could see small faces in the flowers, tended by teeny tiny faeries, who flitted around them, taking care to show them, love.
If she stilled and closed her eyes, she could hear their laughter. It almost sounded like minute sized bells, and it made her heart smile.
Sophia loved this part. It reminded her that these small Fae beings tended to all living things out here in these woods, with love, that all things teemed with life—and grew from that love. When she listened carefully, with her faery hearing, she could hear the music in their actions.
She found it so beautiful here.
Her mother’s door was rounded at the top, and since they were so petite, it wasn’t tall. They entered the little hut, and Sophia looked around as Shantra laid her sleepy granddaughter down on a plush sofa.
The decorations inside the cottage were not all that different than the humans, but Sophia had missed the scent of the spices that always smelled so good in the homes of the Land of the Fae. Flowers, spices, herbs, colors, scents—life, love, joy—these were the things the Faeries valued.
Life intertwined with life. All things interconnected with everything else. Together, they brought balance and restored joy—and health.
Shantra prepared something to eat for them, and Sophia sat down with her mother at a small table in front of the window.
Her mother made them vegetable sandwiches with bowls of fresh fruit, crackers, and cold tea. As always, Sophia closed her eyes as she chewed, letting the flavors and fragrances wash over her tongue and through her senses. The life growing around her seemed somehow brighter, here in the Land of the Fae. Full of bold color and amazing aroma. She never grew tired of it.
After a while, her mother glanced over at her. “I know you didn’t come here to visit,” she said.
Sophia flushed. She should have—long ago. “Yes,” she said. “I came to talk about this enemy we have, who’s hunted us for so long.”
Her mother nodded. “I will gather the Faery tribes for you, so you and the sisters can talk to them about a plan,” she said.
Sophia nodded. That meant telling the sisters the truth about herself. She glanced away. “Thank you, mother,” she said, resigning herself to what she must do. It was time. “I will get the sisters to prepare to speak with the tribes,” she said. She leaned back and watched her daughter play for a long moment. Finally, she turned and looked at her mother, before going back to watching her daughter. “When the time comes, I would like to leave her with you—so she’ll be safe from him.”
Her mother nodded, watching her. “You know I will guard her with my life,” she said, trembling.
Sophia eyed her mother. Something, which had been around her heart for a long time, melted. It hadn’t been her mother’s fault her father had poisoned her against her people.
Tears filled her eyes. “Thank you, mother,” she said.
Her mother beamed at her, nodding. Then she went about cleaning up from their lunch.
Sophia watched her for a long moment. “Mom,” she said, “what wo
uld have happened if I’d been raised here—if I’d been raised with you?”
Her mother straightened, smiling at her. “You would have partaken in many of our celebrations. And you would have been able to do some things that were your right-of-passage to do.” She sighed. “But most of all, we would have enjoyed many of these afternoons together.”
Sophia smiled, too, at this. “Is it too late to do these right-of-passage ceremonies?”
Her mother chuckled through the silent tears slipping down her cheeks. “No, daughter, it’s not too late. The tribes would be happy to welcome you.”
Sophia had tears slipping down her face, too. “Is it too late to enjoy more of these afternoons? Even, perhaps, live here—at least for parts of the year—like when it’s winter in the human world?” she asked, smiling.
“No, daughter, it’s not too late,” her mother said, beaming. “I would love to have you.”
Sophia practically flew from her chair into her mother’s arms, laughing and hugging. They talked then, quietly, and for some time.
After a while, Sophia realized that despite the difference in Fae time and human time, she needed to get going, or her friends would begin to worry—if they weren’t already.
She hugged her mother again, but her mom wouldn’t let her walk back alone, so taking her daughter’s hand, they headed back the way they had come. Before she left the Land of the Fae, she stopped to look around her. She’d missed out on a lot because of her father’s anger and hatred of her mother’s people.
She’d missed much—but she promised herself that her daughter wouldn’t miss out on any more than she had already. Her anger ended now.
She couldn’t wait to get started, embracing her life here. But before she could do that—they would have to take down a powerful enemy.
And it remained to be seen if they’d survive.