Read The Frivolity Fairies - A Christmas Short Story Page 9


  Chapter One – Meeting the Bird

  As the sun began its journey into the sky, Stormy watched it with intensity. Somehow it seemed brighter, like it knew that day would be different. She sighed and lifted her coffee to her lips, blowing the steam away. A tentative sip later, she relaxed into the chair as the warm liquid made its way down her throat and made her feel at home.

  Her thoughts turned to the reason she was there and a great wave of sadness passed over her. Mom only had about two months of life left, and Stormy wasn’t sure she’d be able to stand it when the family matriarch died. They’d been through so much together and butted heads so many times it was ridiculous. But the love was there, and that’s what mattered. Stormy’s eyes misted up as the memories of chilly Christmas mornings and pushes on the old tire swing played through her head.

  A bright red cardinal, with a very black mask, perched in a bush nearby and cocked his head to the side as if to say, “Hello. What are you doing sitting on my porch?”

  She laughed softly and spoke to it. “Hi, yourself. Your porch, eh? I bet you’re a happy bird this morning. It looks like it’s gonna be a beautiful day. Why are you up so early? Oh, right,” she snorted, “the early bird gets the worm, huh?” Another chuckle escaped her lips and she wondered if she was losing it. After all, who in their right mind would talk to an animal?

  It hopped out of the bush and onto the railing nearby; again, cocking its head at her.

  “Well, aren’t you a brave little thing?”

  In answer, the bird chirped.

  Shaking her head, she smirked at the bird and went in for more. “You want to know what I’m doing here and who I am?”

  It chirped a few more times.

  Stormy mumbled, “Well, might as well talk to it. It’s not like I can look any crazier than I already do.” She admired the bird for a moment before really starting to talk. She rolled her eyes at herself. “Okay, you want to know why? I’ll tell you. Listen up, because I’m only saying this once. I got a phone call a couple of weeks ago, telling me my mother only had a few months to live, and I needed to come see her. So I got on a plane and flew out here to spend some time in her company. As always, she hasn’t held back her opinions of me, and I’m beginning to regret flying all the way to Missouri. Not to mention my long walk this morning just to procure a cup of freaking coffee—because she doesn’t drink it, therefore has no pot.”

  The cardinal pranced around on the railing and hopped from foot-to-foot in a little dance before chirping at her again.

  “Oh, you want more?”

  Another chirp and a fanning of the tail feathers. Stormy’s eyes went wide and her lips pursed as she whistled her surprise at the bird’s animated reaction. Her right shoulder rolled forward inching her closer to the intriguing creature.

  “Okay then. I’m sleeping on the most uncomfortable bed known to man, my cell phone died right after I arrived, and I have no laptop because it was consumed by the blue screen of death. I’m stuck out here with my thoughts, and I’m talking to a bird; which, by all accounts, makes me nuttier than a Mr. Goodbar. I miss my dogs, my kids, and my life back home in New Jersey—did you recognize the accent? Now I’m facing losing someone I love dearly, but who doesn’t seem to notice I love her. I guess I figured flying out here would be enough to show her how much I care. I feel like my whole forty-five years have meant nothing.” Stormy sighed and blinked back tears. “But you don’t want to hear this.” She rolled her eyes and swiped a hand through the air, disgusted with her own whining.

  Stormy noticed a movement out the side of her eye and whipped her head around to find a spider descending from the eaves with its legs wagging as if in terror it would fall. A horrible thought occurred to her as the cardinal stared at the insect as well.

  “Please don’t eat it,” she pleaded.

  When the cardinal shivered, extended its wings, opened its beak, and mimicked throwing up, she laughed out loud.

  “You are a clever bird!”

  After fluffing its feathers and managing to look indignant, the bird cocked its head again and gave a short chirp before hopping along the railing toward the steps.

  Stormy blinked and sighed. “Leaving now? Okay, it was nice talking to you!”

  It hopped back, bowed with wings extended, chirped again, then turned and walked deliberately back toward the steps.

  “What?”

  The bird hung its head and seemed to sigh. Then, it repeated its movements.

  “You want me to follow you. Is that it?”

  It danced around a moment in a lively jig then flew around her head before landing back on the porch railing and hopping back toward the steps again.

  Stormy eased out of her chair and walked that way.

  At her movement, the bird flew to the lowest branch of a nearby tree and chirped.

  Again, she followed.

  This pattern continued until they were a good way from the house in a dense thicket of trees.

  When they reached a small clearing teeming with dandelions, the bird landed on the ground and began to shake.

  “Oh my! Are you…”

  In a flash of light, Stormy found herself face-to-face with a handsome young man with short black hair, hazel green eyes, and skin that glowed like a god’s. He bowed to her and said, “Thank you for coming. We’ve been waiting for you to return for a long time now.”

  She couldn’t move or speak. Her feet seemed to have been cemented in place and her mouth felt like it was full of glue.

  He smiled, revealing perfect teeth, and asked, “Are you surprised? Really? Have you ever seen a true cardinal behave that way?”

  Stormy shook her head.

  “I need you to accompany me right now. We have no time left to lose. My mother asked that I bring you to her so she can explain what’s going on and why we’re in great need of your help. Will you come with me?” He extended a hand.

  Without thinking, and still quite unable to speak, she placed her hand in his and nodded.

  “Eventually, you’re going to need to speak.” He grinned. “I’m Michael.”

  “Hello.” She managed to squeak out the word but even to her it sounded lame. Clearing her throat, she tried once more. “I’m sorry. Hello, Michael, it’s nice to meet you.”

  His grip on her hand tightened for a moment with a light squeeze. “I’m the one who should be sorry. I imagine I gave you quite a fright when I changed.”

  “No. You just surprised me is all. I’m difficult to scare.”

  Michael’s eyes sparkled with appreciation, and his grateful smile was so heartwarming it took her breath away. He straightened his back and nodded.

  “Where are we going?”

  “To my home. You’ll see. It’s not far.”

  Stormy allowed herself to be dragged through the trees toward the pond. When they arrived, she took note of the dying tree growing near the water, remembering how she used to play on its branches when she was a kid. To her surprise, he headed straight for it.

  Once they got close, he released her hand and said, “Stay right here for a moment.”

  She did as she was told and watched him walk over to the tree and wave his hand in front of the trunk, near the water. A gasp escaped her lips when the water rose to reveal an elegant set of stairs with a gold banister that led down into the ground.

  Michael returned and offered his hand again. “Shall we?” he asked.

  Her head moved up and down of its own accord and she placed her hand in his, hoping he didn’t mind the perspiration. Despite her display of bravado, she was feeling a bit overwhelmed by everything she was seeing and her palms had begun to sweat.

  When he was looking the other way, she let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding before that moment. With her heart hammering in her chest, she accompanied him down the golden stairs. As they descended, she could hear the water above, rushing back into place. She was trapped.

  As her feet moved forward, her eyes adjusted to the n
ew light. It was a bit dimmer than above and had a more golden tone to it. She glanced down at her arms and turned them over, admiring how bronzed they appeared. Thinking it must do wonders for the skin, she wondered how often someone would have to be exposed to it to look like Michael. She felt the heat rise into her face.

  She looked up, and was overwhelmed by the spiral staircase before her, reaching far into the open air above them. She wondered how much longer they’d have to go when suddenly they were standing in front of a large, gilded door.

  Michael reached his hand up, placed it on the handle, and murmured something too low for her to hear. Slowly, the door opened away from them to reveal a city so large and beautiful, it took her breath away.

  Her hand flew to the base of her throat and she gasped as her eyes flew around, trying to take it all in at once.

  Every path was paved in silver and gold. Trees stood tall and proud with golden leaves and deep purple trunks. The air was a perfect temperature, and the absence of the Missouri humidity was nothing short of a relief. Silver, gold, and jeweled rooftops sparkled in every direction. But the crowning glory of this world was the biggest castle Stormy could ever have imagined. It seemed every road and path terminated at the gates, and its visage seemed to glow with a powerful aura.

  He turned, looked at her face, and gave a low chuckle before saying, “Welcome to Trogon. Quite a change from that drab world you come from, isn’t it?”

  She nodded. “Yes. It’s so beautiful.”

  “It’s the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen, and I’ve been all over the world. I think you’re going to like it here. Come on, we have to speak with Mother.” He pressed forward, dragging Stormy along behind him. When she lagged, looking at this or exclaiming over that, he would cut her off and tell her they needed to hurry; there would be time for admiring things later.

  As they approached the castle, she grew apprehensive about meeting his mother. She asked questions: “What is it your mother does? Why does she want to see me? How come no one knows about this place? What do you eat here?”

  Every question she asked was answered with, “Mother will answer your questions when we arrive. Come on,” along with a pull on the hand he still held.

  They arrived at the castle gates and the guards bowed. “Welcome back, your Majesty.”

  She was baffled. He was royalty! That meant his mother must be the Queen! Stormy’s hands perspired again as her nerves gave a strong jangle.

  He walked right up to the doors of the castle and thrust them open with gusto. Every guard bowed as they passed and some gave Stormy a look that could only be interpreted as hopeful.

  She wondered what she’d gotten herself into.

  When they reached the throne room, her legs were worn out and she was tired of not receiving any answers. Her temper rose and her body grew warm with anger. She fought off the urge to glare at him.

  Michael deposited her at the foot of the dais and barked a command, “Kneel before the Queen.”

  Stormy’s rage flared and she replied, “No. She’s not my queen, and I don’t know her from Eve. I want answers to my questions, dammit! Now.”

  He sighed and knelt before the woman sitting on the single throne atop the platform. “I have brought her, most honored Mother, as requested.”

  Stormy looked at the woman and sized her up. Eyes that sparked with power and humor in a dazzling green color, could’ve been emeralds set in the woman’s perfectly round face. Jet black hair was lying in a long braid over her shoulder that almost reached her ankles. On her head was a thin circlet of gold with tiny silver leaves and pink colored apples adorning the sides. Her dress seemed to be made of the night sky, complete with sparkling silver stars. Above all, this woman radiated power from her very being, and before Stormy realized what she was doing, she dropped to her knees in reverence.

  “See, child? She has come around. There is no need for an ill temper.” When the queen smiled, the light about her grew brighter. “Please rise; both of you. This is not a time for formalities. We’ve wasted precious years already.”

  They stood.

  She turned to Stormy. “Hello, darling girl, we’ve been searching for you a long time.”

  “Why? What’s all this about? Who are you? What do you want with me?” Stormy demanded as her mind raced through possibilities. Her heart pounded in her chest as she wondered if she was intended as a human sacrifice of some kind.

  The queen threw back her head and laughed. It was a tinkling sound that reverberated around the room and put Stormy right at ease. “I’ve been thinking on how to tell you this. I don’t have time to explain every detail, so I’m going to give you a quick overview. Will that suit you for now? We have a lot to do and little time to do it in.”

  Stormy sighed and crossed her arms. “I suppose it’ll have to.” Her resolve was melting and she asked her inner conscious if perhaps the queen had some weird power that controlled moods.

  “Very good. Please, have a seat.”

  A chair appeared out of nowhere and Stormy plopped down in it. Her coffee, forgotten on the porch of her mother’s house, appeared on the armrest. Stormy lifted it for a drink, settled into the chair and nodded as an indication the queen should go ahead and begin.

  Michael excused himself, saying he’d be back later to escort Stormy home.

  “My name is Queen Lea Victoria Pearl Neusbaum Havenshare. I’m two-hundred and twenty-years-old. I’ve been queen of Trogon for over one-hundred years, since my father before me turned to dust. You might say I’m your version of Mother Earth, but I don’t control everything that happens with nature in your world or mine. I only control the sunrise, sunset, and growth. We all have different powers here and all have a hand in shaping the world above. We are known as Trobodytes.

  “Forty-five years ago, our world began to die. I couldn’t figure out why until one of my people came to me with a most harrowing report of violence. She told me one of the wizards, Bordash, whom we call the Bladeslinger, was seen cutting down one of the trees that ties our world to yours. Without those trees, Trogon will cease to exist. We are connected to your world through magic and the elements. If the magic the trees provide is severed, we will all die.”

  Stormy raised her hand and cleared her throat.

  “Yes, dear, what is it?”

  “Sorry to interrupt. Just a question. Why can’t you just hook up with new trees?”

  Lea’s eyes sparked. “That’s a very intelligent question. I’ll try to explain as well as I can. You see, the trees we’re tied to are all in places with a high concentration of natural energy in your world. In order for a tree to tie us, it must grow in that special place. It must be planted by one of my own people that possess the special ability to nurture it, be fused with the magic of our own trees, and must be no less than fifteen-years-old before it can be attached. Our process is quite long and involved. It takes three years to infuse the seedling with our magic, and another two before it can be planted above. Younger trees can’t bear the burden.”

  “Oh. I see. So how many are left?” Stormy asked.

  “Two. But we have one that’s almost to maturity near Tara, Ireland. It’s being guarded by Learion the Magnificent, one of our most powerful wizards.”

  She pressed for more. “And how many were there to begin with?”

  “Thirty. There’s power in threes and tens, you see. So we need three trees times ten to give us our strongest connection to your world.” Lea explained.

  Stormy’s face cooled as she felt the blood drain from her face. Her guts tightened when she realized how much trouble Trogon was in. “So what do I have to do with all this?”

  Lea’s eyes turned down to look at her hands folded in her lap. “You’re the only one who can defeat Bordash Bladeslinger and save us.”

  Leaping to her feet, Stormy yelled, “What? Tell me you aren’t saying what I think you’re saying! How am I supposed to battle and destroy a wizard? You’ve got the wrong woman. There’s no way! Wh
y me?”

  “Please, sit down. I’ll explain.”

  Stormy crossed her arms and remained on her feet. “Well? I’m waiting.”

  The queen sighed. “Fifty years ago, one of our prophets spoke of a child who would be conceived in a place of power, and born on a day of power, that would save us. You were conceived near the tree which brought you here and born on October thirty-first. We didn’t know we needed saving at the time, so we weren’t worried about finding you. By the time we did, you’d moved away. We’ve been waiting ever since you were twenty for you to return.”

  Raising her eyes to meet Stormy’s, the queen continued. “Listen, I know this is a lot to take in and a huge decision. But humor me and hear my offer before you do so. We cannot force you to help; you must do it of your own free will.”

  Stormy’s blood-pressure skyrocketed and caused her ears to ring, but agreed to hear the woman out and sat back down in the chair.

  “My offer is thus: we will give you a soup. You will give half of it to your mother, and then you’ll consume the rest. She’ll be returned to age thirteen and given another chance to live her life; though, she won’t remember you or any of her life before. You will be forever eighteen in appearance and will live and die as we do. That means special abilities—though I’m not sure what yours will manifest as—and no pain of death. You will simply cease to exist and crumble to dust when your time is complete. We live to be around five-hundred-years-old. I cannot erase your age, you will continue to be forty-five, but you’ll look and feel eighteen again. As a comparison, my son is fifty and you already know I’m two-hundred-twenty. So you see what you’ll be gaining.

  “To be totally honest with you, when your mother returns to age thirteen, sixty years will also be taken off the tree her life force is tied to. It’s the tree you came into Trogon by. If it dies, your mother dies, and vice versa. So, while my offer is generous, it’s also selfish. We need that tree to remain younger longer.” The queen sat with her hands in her lap and her eyes fixed on Stormy.

  Processing all the information given was causing Stormy a headache. Just as she was about to politely decline, a black and grey squirrel dashed over the floor, jumped up onto Lea’s lap, and sat looking at her for a moment.

  Lea turned white and said, “Thank you, Rambler.” After which Lea reached into a pouch at her waist, Stormy hadn’t noticed dangling there before, and procured an odd-looking acorn for the tiny beast.

  He shoved it into his mouth and started back the way he’d come. As he passed Stormy, and seemed to notice her sitting there for the first time, he paused, turned, and looked in the queen’s direction again.

  “Yes, that’s the woman we’ve been looking for. Go on now,” Lea said. “I’m very sorry, Stormy, but I must take my leave of you now. We have a pressing matter that needs my attention. You have two days to make your decision. Goodbye.”

  Michael appeared at Stormy’s shoulder. “Let’s go. I need to get you out of here.”

  “What the hell was that?” Stormy asked.

  “The squirrel?”

  “Yes, the squirrel!” She slapped her legs in frustration.

  “He’s one of my mother’s servants. Be careful what you think around him; he can read your mind.” Michael chuckled.

  Stormy stood up and the chair, along with the coffee, disappeared.

  They headed for the door. When he pulled it open, a dark funnel cloud could be seen taking shape over the landscape to her left.

  “What’s that?” she asked.

  “Bordash. He’s found out somehow you’re in Trogon, and he’s heading this way.”

  “What for?”

  “To kill you, of course.”

  If you loved the preview, see the end of the book to grab a copy on Amazon!

  Did you enjoy your read? On the next page, Amazon will ask you to leave a review. Please do so. Every single review counts, and I want to hear your thoughts. Good, bad, whatever, but they matter to me! Thank you so much!

  Jo

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  About the Author

  Jo Michaels is...

  Hi, I'm Jo. Let's forget all the "Jo Michaels is blah, blah, blah" stuff and just go with it. I'm a voracious reader (often reading more than one book at a time), a writer, a book reviewer, a mom, a wife, and one of the EICs at INDIE Books Gone Wild. I have an almost photographic memory and tend to make people cringe at the number of details I can recall about them and/or their book(s). My imagination follows me around like a conjoined twin and causes me to space out pretty often or laugh out loud randomly in completely inappropriate situations.

  I have a degree in graphic design, and my journey to the end was one few students who begin that program ever complete. However, this was one case where my memory and OCD tendencies helped me. Graduation was one of the most amazing days of my life. But, my most amazing day was when my now husband proposed. Every little girl dreams of being Cinderella someday, and he pulled off the proposal of fantasies.

  At the risk of sounding cliché, I'm going to let it out there and say how much I absolutely adore the man I'm married to. Along with my children, he's my whole world.

  I've lived in Louisiana, Tennessee, and Georgia, but I've had my feet in almost every state. Traveling is something I adore, and have plans to someday see the Mongolia I've written about in Yassa.

  One of my favorite things is hearing from fans! You can find me on social media most any day of the week. Connect! I'd love to hear from you.

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  More Books by Jo Michaels

  Abigale Series (https://bit.ly/1PKG4v3) (Middle Grade Titles)

  1 (https://bit.ly/1SU00f3)

  2 (https://bit.ly/1j3F2gZ)

  3 (https://bit.ly/1ONlRGp)

  Young Adult Titles

  The Frivolity Fairies: A Christmas Short Story (https://bit.ly/1HTQgem) FREE

  M (https://bit.ly/1STYpWC)

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  Fractured Glass: A Novel Anthology (https://bit.ly/1QHgRCx)

  New Adult Titles

  Mystic Series

  Bronya (https://bit.ly/1NzNVY5) (1)

  Lily (https://bit.ly/1HPSsJ4) (2)

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  5 in 1 (https://bit.ly/1lrzM8N)

  Markaza (https://bit.ly/1PKFkX3) (6 – final)

  Faye Magic (https://bit.ly/2dGd6Rj) - Othala Witch Collection - Sector 16 (preorder - releases 12/15)

  *Utterances (https://bit.ly/1Lij94d) (TBR)

  Adult Titles

  Yassa: Genghis Khan’s Coming-of-age Tale (https://bit.ly/1MNee0x)

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  Non-fiction Titles

  Writing Prompts for Kids (https://bit.ly/1IjL9d6)

  Writing Prompts for Teens (https://bit.ly/1Vurokr)

  The Indie Author's Guide to: Building a Great Book (https://bit.ly/1QHh74G)­

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