DARRAGH: AMIKA ARDEN ERIMITIS
Copyright © 2018, 2025. Second Edition — 2025. All Rights Reserved. First Edition published 2018. Second Edition published 2025. The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any for, or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or any information browsing, storage, or retrieval system, without permission in writing from Arden Erimitis. Editor: BlackQuill Editing Cover Design: Esthe Hiraya ISBN 978-1-257-96038-5
I It was the perfect Kismet day. A sharp chill wafted through the linen curtains of Amika Briskbane’s reading nook, carrying the comforting scent of blazing treetops shedding their leaves and warm hearths stoked in the houses nestled in the furthest corner of Fae Colony. Ochre sunlight streaked the posterboard sprawled across Amika's lap, landing precisely on an image of a Messenger fae in flight, who just so happened to be carrying a Will-o-'the-Wisp. Typical fae wings always had an iridescent flicker, even when not in motion, as if they were always buzzing and on the go. However, these wings lacked that enchanting shimmer, for they had been drafted as hand-drawn sketches for her school project. Demonstrate the life cycle of a Will-o’-the-Wisp. That was the original assignment, and Amika was paying extra consideration to highlighting the vital storyline of what happened after a Will-o’-the-Wisp was harvested from the Mystery Gardens of Cosantrai Conservatory, the dedicated academic campus for growing faelings, and transported by fae to the human realm. Amika was currently learning in her Fae Lore class at the Conservatory that Will-o’-the-Wisps were humanoid plant creatures cultivated in Fae Colony with a purpose aimed to act as creative guidance for the human realm. They were ultimately meant to evoke imagination and offer a pathway for humans to activate creativity. Any time a human would cross their path in the human realm, the pure magic of the Will-o’-the-wisp would
activate, and that specific Wisp could customize its form to synch up to each individual’s wonder preferences when they witnessed the Will-o’-the-wisp’s presence. Wonder preferences, according to the thick tome lying next to her project, were described as ways in which certain stimuli in nature could invoke inspiration within a human, leading them to utilize the creative energy to express it into form. Basically, Will-o’-the-wisps were meant to light human hearts up by shapeshifting into the very thing that would inspire them. The question was, how did one demonstrate that on a posterboard flowchart? She considered the daunting task as she slathered a thick layer of paste on the backs of each image and smoothed them onto the poster board. They weren’t her own sketches—the hand-drawn documents were solely a task for the Archivists and Scribes, two upper working-class groups of the fae, and the specific images were taken from pages designated to be of use as a reference guide in her classroom textbooks. Each image, held in her palm, would be the exact size a real fae would be if a human were to hold it. The realization made her chuckle. A tickle in between her shoulder blades pulled her attention. Of course that spot would irritate her at the moment. That was the place where she was supposed to have wings. There was an added edge and irritated carelessness in her movements as she pasted the final image into place, spending a little too much time on the fae’s wings. Scratch. Scratch. Setting her project supplies aside, she leaned over the edge of her seat. A curious moonbug craned its head up at her and wobbled its backside in a flickering display of gold and green. “Solas! Perfect timing! Wanna help me?” she called down to him. He cocked his head, chirping gravelly in response.
She hefted up the lapdog-sized bug to where she was sitting and plopped him down amongst a pile of dandelion-tuft-filled pillows. Amika had stumbled upon Solas, who had fallen wounded in the nearby woods, and invited him to stay and mend his hurt wing for the time being. He had eight spindly legs, a smooth gray exoskeleton that reminded Amika of snake skin, and six huge, prismatic thousand-lensed eyes. Solas circled three times before settling on her lap. “Right. We have to mind-share for you to understand,” she said. She took the friendly creature’s face in both hands and touched her forehead between its fuzzy antennae. She felt the hum of the connection track through her thoughts as the moonbug’s mind synched with hers. Her ability to mind-join allowed her to transfer her thoughts, but only with his consent. “Permission to connect, Solas.” The moonbug pulled away and nodded once. “Granted, as always, Amika.” Being able to hear and understand creatures outside her own kind had forged a deeper sense of compassion in Amika. She had hoped the other fae with the same gift would be equally empathetic, but sadly, that wasn’t the case. Amika enjoyed sharing her interests with Solas, talking about stories from her classes at the Conservatory and her fond memories of Fae Colony. However, it took time for her to reveal her innermost feelings. After several weeks, Amika opened up about her extraordinary origin. She was born from the first bloom of a crimson-tipped daylily in Faeborne Valley nearly eighty-seven years ago. During their daily walks, Amika shared insights about life as a fae. Solas learned that fae typically live for around six hundred years. At just six moons shy of her eighty-seventh birthday, Amika was still considered an adolescent. She loved her life in Fae Colony, yet her heart yearned for wild adventures beyond her apple-red pedal cart—a mechanical
contraption that relied solely on her leg power to guide her way through the lush land of Darragh. Solas wiggled, radiating a burst of bioluminescence in excitement. Amika scratched the spot between his fuzzy antennae. He reflexively kicked out a leg, blocking her view of her project. “Excuse me! How do you expect me to work like this?” She laughed. Solas blinked with his six large eyes and scuttled back, making room. “There. Happy?” A sudden gust of wind whooshed through the gap in the window, sending one of her project folders tumbling off the shelf and onto Solas’s head. They both jumped in surprise. After shaking it off, he glanced at the now-open folder on the bedspread, where a bright red warning scrawled in berry ink shouted, Confidential. Solas leaned closer, eyes wide with curiosity. “Whoa. What’s that? It looks important.” Amika bit her lip, weighing her words. She drummed her fingers on the dog-eared page of her book. “Okay. I’ll tell you. But you have to promise—this stays between us.” Solas held up his front foot to link with her pinky. “Promise.” Something unsettling synched within Amika at the mention of the word promise. A gripping chill coursed through her, a clear signal that this was more than just a fleeting discomfort. The gut-wrenching dread that followed was undeniable, intensifying as sharp pains throbbed in her temples. She felt panic rise. Amika firmly grasped the bedspread, using it to anchor herself against the dizziness that threatened to overwhelm her. Solas nuzzled her arm. “You okay?” Amika focused on the warmth of the candle flame in front of her to settle her nerves, watching it flicker, dancing to an unseen rhythm. She wasn’t okay, but could she tell him?
She steadied herself and gently shifted Solas aside, forcing a smile. “Just a strange, sudden, dizzy spell. I’m okay.” The need for fresh air gripped her. “Let’s take care of the garden. Then I’ll show you more of what I was working on.” He flashed her a concerned look. “Okay.” Amika slipped her dainty feet into her leather house shoes, which were designed to look like a handful of spring leaves wrapped and bound into a pointed slipper form. She dusted off her fitted black pants and pulled on her favorite thick, blueberry juice dyed tunic. She picked Solas up and carried him over to the sturdy rope ladder that led to her rooftop garden, making sure he was securely tucked under her arm to keep him from falling. Solas rushed to snack on the nearest trough of harvested leafy greens the moment she sat him down. She tugged up the bucket of well water and scooped one dipper for him to lap up and a second one to water her plants. Making her rounds to check on all of the new delicate blossoms and moss growth, Amika turned her gaze upward, noticing an ominous storm building to the south. A budding rainbow ushered in a dense, menacing wall of thunderheads along the soft curves of the countryside. She welcomed the electric sting of cool air on her cheeks, but this time of year, a season when tremendous storms led to colony-wide devastation, always made her a little uneasy. Maybe that was that sense of dread she had gotten earlier, something connected to a shift in the weather. A soft pattering of raindrops sounded on the rooftop garden, prompting Amika to stash her gardening supplies in a wooden ottoman near the ladder and rush to grab Solas. Amika giggled when a single raindrop hit the tip of her nose. “Whoa. We better get inside.” A torrent of rain came down when Amika closed the back door. “Well, that was fast.” Amika grabbed a couple of towels from the closet to dry herself and Solas off. “It
looked like it was pretty far off. Must have been another random storm cloud that was closer than I thought.” Thunder bellowed outside as the rain kicked up into a downpour. Solas skittered for shelter in between Amika’s ankles. She crouched down to comfort him and cradle him in her arms. His whole exoskeleton shook in terror. She pulled him closer to ease his anxiety and reflected on how grateful she was that she had seen him while out for a walk. If she hadn’t taken it upon herself to invite him to stay with her, she knew some predator would have taken advantage of his weakened state and probably devoured him. She shook the disturbing thought out of her head to prevent him from picking up what was floating through her mind. Amika cuddled up with Solas on her propped-up pillows and flipped open the file that had fallen on her bed. Leafing through the stack of organized papers, she pulled one out to show to him. The familiar unsettling tingle rushed through her body once more. She glanced at the opened file and a tinge of concern churned in her gut. Solas trotted around on her lap, pulling her from her concerns. He cocked his head as Amika wiped away the dust from the hand-sketched portrait. “Who’s that?” Amika bent down to show him the image of a heavy-set female fae with smiling eyes and two thick braids that rested between her delicate wings. Amika tenderly traced the edges of the wings with her fingertip. “Desily. She’s a Guardian and one of my favorite staff members from Seelie Home. She actually gave me this exact sweater at the last Merry Fair.” Memories of Merry Fair flooded Amika’s thoughts as she replaced the cherished image in the folder. She paused to consider what she could share with him. She selected another hand-sketched drawing—an image of the Fae Valley river parade celebration that was held at sunset at her Merry Fair. Her teeth chattered and she trembled with nervous energy as she held the drawing up for Solas to see, as if her body was physically protesting sharing these
details. She powered through her discomfort, brushing it off as unease from being so isolated from so many in her community, and making new friends was just awkward for her. Amika pointed out the details of a massive stage in the center of the drawing. It was decorated in thick ivy and flowering plants next to the Crescent Call riverbank, where a number of water parade floats, hand-carved by volunteers from Gnome Colony to look like massive ships made of leaves and flower petals, sat on display. The stage was surrounded by a series of trimmed hedges shaped into creatures of all sizes, and a group of fae were gathered in a circle. The fae sported gaudy wares and fancy headdresses passing a chalice of honey cider around the circle. Amika could just about taste it on her lips as she reflected on her own coming-of-age ceremony six moons ago. “Mmmm. Figberry muffins,” she mind-shared, unaware that it transmitted to Solas. “Figberry muffins?” Amika chuckled when she realized what had happened. “Oh, nothing. Just thinking about my own Merry Fair celebration.” Solas stumbled backward after glancing down at the sketch. “Is that a moonbug they’re about to eat? Amika!” Amika lifted it to her face to inspect it and frowned. A sickening feeling rose in her gut. She couldn’t tell if she was picking up Solas’s terror or just tuning in to her own disgust at the typical fae dietary cravings. “Unfortunately, Regents love eating you guys.” Solas’s brilliant green face went pale. “Do I want to know what a Regent is?” Amika set the picture down. “Okay. I have to explain some things. Fae Colony—the area I’m from—well, let’s just say, you don’t typically find moonbugs in our homes.” Solas’s antennae drooped slightly. “So, I’m … not welcome?”
Amika quickly shook her head. “No, it’s not that. It’s complicated. There are many fae who appreciate the beauty of all creatures, like me. But there are also those who follow the old ways too strictly. They believe certain beings, like you, are better off, well, in their stomachs.” Solas slumped, an uneasy grimace on his face. “Your kind is considered quite the delicacy to the staff who work with our elder,” Amika explained. She pointed down at a beautiful fae dressed in an elegant ballgown in the center of the stage. “That’s her. Elder Starling Windrunner.” She pointed at two male fae that flanked the Elder on either side. They stood alert in their uniforms, looking quite pompous with their raised collars and oversized shoulder pads. “Those are some of her Regents. They’re next in command if something happens to our governing matriarch.” “Matriarch?” Amika shrugged and smiled sheepishly, sensing the complexity of the conversation starting to get out of hand. “It means she’s the one who lays the egg sacs that carry fairy embryos in the wombs of flowers. Like a Great Mother of the fae. It also means she has the major say in our land. Like the boss. Do moonbugs have something like that? Some … um … bug … you treat as a leader? Like a main bug that tells all the other bugs what to do?” She laughed at the absurdity of her question. He sat back on his haunches. “Hmmm. I never thought of that. We all kind of do what we want.” “But do you have families? Like a mother or father you look up to and listen to?” Solas bobbed his head back and forth “You could say that. I mean, we hatch and grow on our own until we find the others and just, you know, fly with our sparkle.” “Sparkle? What do you mean by that?” Solas’s pincers pulled into a grin. “It's what we call ourselves when we fly in formation.”
Amika’s heart lit up. “That’s so beautiful.” She glanced over at the closet in her room. “Here, let me show you something. It’s the closest thing to a faeling’s sparkle.” She set her entire project aside and headed to the organized wardrobe and pulled out a beautiful, midnight-blue gown, designed to look like a Starry Sky Petunia in full bloom. “What happened to your dress?” Solas asked, clacking his way on the flagstone floor behind her. Burgundy and cobalt grains of pollen had stained the corset-style bodice, while the skirt edge looked tipped with splashes of gold, green, teal, and magenta. “They had this beautiful display of colorful pollenworks, where they fling pods full of colored pollen and then these archers shoot arrows at them, causing them to burst all over the crowd.” Solas’s face lit up. “That sounds amazing!” Amika quietly reflected on the details of that night as she traced her fingertips along the edges of the skirt, catching fingerfuls of color to play with. The specific blend of colors pulled her to the details of the intricate masks that had adorned the faces of her peers. Each Merry Fair featured a themed masquerade and Amika’s celebration highlighted stellar delights, such as décor that featured moon phases and celestial bodies. She reached for the mask that had paired beautifully with her gown, a black fox mask with a single crescent moon in the center of the forehead. Amika smiled to herself when she glanced down at Solas. “Want to try it on?” Solas took several steps backward, declining. “You want me to wear the face of something that could possibly eat me?” “Good point. That’s pretty awful.” Amika put the mask back on her closet shelf and chuckled. “I didn’t think about that at all.” A hint of the gold in her palm drew in the memory of the strung canopy of lanterns where everyone in her cohort danced gaily in the air with their chosen partners as she watched from down below near the banquet
table. She had been sequestered by her deficiency, unable to join any of the handsomely dressed males who were eager to show off their beautiful dance partners. Amika came to, a knot twisted in her stomach and her heart wrenched from the memory. She had to turn her thoughts to the food, like she had that same night, in an attempt to distract herself from feeling painfully alone and left out of the festivities. She fondly remembered platters of lavender teacakes and butterbristle scones, topped with sticky-sweet honeycsrips biscuits that could easily pair with bowls full of savory sagebloom stew. She had stayed away from the carnivorous spread, which featured a menagerie of slain conquests that had made Amika sick to her stomach just to look at. Solas scuttled closer to the dress. “So, what exactly is that for, anyway?” “What is what for?” Solas gestured to the dress and mask with his head. “You called the event something. I can’t remember what you called it.” “Oh, Merry Fair. It’s a celebration of fae coming of age.” “What does that mean?” Amika tapped her fingers on her chin and thought a moment. “In our way of life, we celebrate the time when young faelings move into becoming adults. It’s a huge event for every cohort of faelings who begin their life at Seelie Home after they are born.” Amika pointed at the top right corner of the image, which featured an area covered in flowers. “This is Faeborne Valley, where I was born.” With a hint of vulnerability, she slipped off her sweater and lowered the neck of her tunic. Her left shoulder blade gleamed softly, revealing a smooth expanse of skin. “I once felt so ashamed for not being born with wings like the others. Desily sensed something was different about me by my ninth birthday. By then, I should have at least had wing buds, just like the
rest of my cohort.” Amika gazed down at Solas, who had a concerned look on his face. “I’m sure you were beautiful for your Merry Fair, Amika,” he said, attempting to change the subject. Amika smiled, reminiscing. “It was a beautiful ceremony, even if I did feel out of place.” “Out of place?” Solas echoed, tilting his head in curiosity. Amika tapped her shoulder blade. “Because of the wings,” she said, her voice tinged with introspection. “Everyone else had theirs adorned for the occasion. When it was my turn to join the dance, I just stood there, watching. It felt … well, isolating. But Desily, one of my teachers at the Seelie Home, she’d always been there for me and she shared something incredibly special with me to help me not feel so alone.” “What did she do?” Solas asked, his massive eyes blinking with interest. Amika thought back to the warmth in Desily’s gaze as she had stepped forward to take Amika’s hand, guiding her into the dancing crowd despite the lack of wings. “Desily reminded me that just because I didn’t have wings didn’t mean I couldn’t find my own way to fly.” Solas waggled his antennae, deep in thought. “That sounds pretty special.” “It was,” Amika said, her heart swelling with gratitude for her friend. She returned to her reading nook and took out a stack of papers and brochures from her folder to share with Solas. “This is my graduation certificate from Seelie Home. See? Signed by the entire Guardian staff.” She ran her hand over the page and laughed softly as her thoughts turned to fond memories. She felt excited at the idea of sharing these moments with her new friend. “Seelie Home is a beautiful place located in the eastern part of Fae Colony. It’s where Guardians bring newborn faelings to live and grow after they
emerge from the Fairweather blooms,” she explained, pointing to an image of a grand building adorned with elaborate architectural features. Solas looked puzzled. “Fairweather?” “You know, it’s the time of the solar year when we celebrate new beginnings,” Amika replied. Solas shook his head in confusion. “Well, in Fae Colony, we honor four seasons in a solar year. Fairweather represents new beginnings. Next is Aestivus, a time when we celebrate the abundance of life in Darragh. Then comes Kismet, which is when things begin to fade away, and we express gratitude for what has come to be. Finally, there’s Albonix, a quiet time when it gets cold and most creatures go into hibernation.” Solas stared blankly and chittered a laugh. “You guys are complicated! Moonbugs just eat and sleep most of the time. We don’t really celebrate anything. Maybe we should! I never thought about things that way. Albonix sounds lovely—it sounds like a lot of naps.” Amika chuckled. “The Guardians taught us all sorts of things at Seelie Home. After Seelie Home, I moved on to Cosantrai Conservatory, where I’m studying now. We spend four years there, and then we’re supposed to step into our fated roles in Darragh.” She gestured to the photographs of the staff members. “These three Guardians taught the Affinities and Gifts classes,” she indicated. “And these four taught us about the working class fae—like builders and papermakers.” Solas nodded, absorbing the information. Amika mind-shared the titles below the images, “Quarterly Editor-in-Chief, Quarterly Layout and Graphics Manager, Quarterly Scribe... Messenger Manager.” She pointed to a section filled with tight-lipped fae, their images conveying a lack of joy. “Guardians come from all over Fae Colony to guide us in discovering our natural gifts and interests. They’re supposed to help us grow in our abilities. Some of them are pretty awesome, but these guys?”
She pointed to a group of severely scowling fae. “They seem more focused on pushing numbers and getting fae graduated than connecting with us on a personal level.” Solas scanned the images and the writing that was difficult to decipher. “So, what subject did Desily teach?” he asked. Amika shifted her stack of papers, revealing a new set. “Oh, she wasn’t a teacher. She was a Proctor who maintained order and discipline at Seelie Home. Honestly, I don’t know why they let her have that role; she was way too much of a softie to enforce any real discipline. Hmm.” Amika suddenly drew the documents closer to herself. “Oh. I’m not sure I can share more about this. We were sworn to secrecy during our orientation at Cosantrai Conservatory.” Amika sized up Solas with a single glance. What harm could a moonbug do? At most, they could use the knowledge of the Regents’ eating preferences to their benefit and avoid certain places at certain times, when hordes of Regents would hunt these creatures as delicacies. The harm would be to remove a minor food group off the table, no more, no less. She opened to the third chapter in the tome, scanned the page, and placed her dainty fingertip on the exact image she wanted to share. “I’m pretty sure I can trust you. I just know it. It’s not like you would go and tell your moonbug friends about the fae secrets or anything.” Amika plopped down in a cross-legged position and waved him over. “Okay, this is seriously top-secret stuff here. Got it?” Solas wagged his bottom excitedly. “I promise not to tell a soul.” Amika's eyes gleamed with excitement. “Have you ever heard of Will-o’-the-wisps?” Solas shook his head. She nodded at her pile of school supplies. “That’s the project I’m working on. To share with my class about what they are.” Amika glanced left and right, playfully searching for any nonexistent eavesdroppers, and leaned
in closer to Solas. “Okay, here’s the deal. Humans live in a separate realm from us, right?” “I’ve heard of humans, but I don’t know much about them.” Amika waved her hands around as if to rid the air of his naivete. “Alright, forget anything you’ve heard. I have the real information here. The fae”—she gestured at herself—“have a special connection with humans. We call humans Creatives, okay?” “Why Creatives?” he asked, scooting closer. “Let me explain the Will-o’-the-wisps first, then you will understand.” Amika pulled out a packet of information stamped Top Secret and flipped to the third page, then the fourth, looking for specific information to share with him. “This”—Amika pointed at a drawing of a luminescent, humanoid plant—“is a Will-o’-the-wisp.” Solas’s eyes widened with awe. “We have millions of these at the Cosantrai Conservatory.” She pointed at the large building on the paper in front of them. “We learn about how these things grow. It’s not like water or sunlight that helps them flourish. Some of the fae are called Stewards, who are trained in the Creative Arts and nurture the growing plants with things like music, storytelling, or dance. That is the only thing that feeds them. They’re not quite plants but not quite creatures—something magical in between. Just an essence.” “An essence? An essence of what?” “Foreseen Creativity.” As if on cue, a bright flash of lightning crashed too close for comfort outside the house, causing them to jump and screech. After their nerves settled, Solas continued with his questions, “What do you mean by creativity? How does creativity have an essence?” “On the third moon of Kismet.” She counted to three with her dainty fingers and waved her hand around for dramatic effect. Solas scooted closer. “Kismet is when things fall away, right?”
“Yes. Yes. Just listen.” Amika inhaled deeply and continued with her narrative. “On the third moon of Kismet each year, a special race of creatures called the Lunarae—spidery, mysterious creatures so secret they are hidden away at the farthest reaches of Darragh—lay hundreds of eggs. Hundreds. These eggs are harvested by the Regents who work for Elder Windrunner. The Regents bring the eggs to the Conservatory and plant them in the ground. The Cosantrai.” Amika excitedly pointed at more drawn figures on the pages. “These guys right here. Those are the staff at the Conservatory that are either Seers or Stewards. The Stewards help cultivate the eggs into the Will-o’-the-wisps, and the Seers connect with the growing plants to determine what Creative Form they are to become. Once they become full-grown, each one will be harvested and taken to the humans.” “Where exactly are the farthest reaches of Darragh? Is that near the gnomes?” “No, no, no. Solas, you’re missing the point. I’m trying to tell you a story here.” “Do they get mad that the Regents are stealing their eggs?” Amika sat upright. “You, know, I don’t know. I never considered that.” She nibbled on her nail and stared off in thought. Solas pulled her attention back to the story. “So what does that have to do with humans?” “Creatives,” Amika corrected. “Right. Creatives. What does that have to do with them?” “So, the fae—Messengers to be precise—bring the harvested Will-o’-the-wisps to the human realm and deliver them to the humans. Once the Will-o’-the-wisp is delivered, it transforms in the mind of the human into Creative Inspiration.” “Huh. Interesting. How does it transform into Creative Inspiration? And what happens then?”
“Well, I don’t know that part yet. I’m not even a Sprig at school. I think we learn more about that next year.” “A Sprig?” Amika pulled out another sheet with what appeared to be some sort of diagram. She pointed out each of the images on the flowchart. “First Buds are year one at the Conservatory. Sprigs are year two. Then it’s Incipients, then Scions. In the first two years, we spend a lot of time learning specifically about the Will-o’-the-wisps' growth cycles and development stages. We have Archivists who are the holders of all fae history and Preservists who study plant and creature life throughout Darragh. They come and help teach those courses. Anyway, it's a lot to take in. But… what do you think? Pretty cool, huh?” Solas smiled sheepishly. “I think I’m hungry.” Amika rubbed his head playfully. “You’re so silly. Of course you’re hungry. You’re always hungry.” He bared his two rows of little sharp teeth in a wide grin. “Like I said, moonbugs are simple creatures. I already napped, so you know what’s inevitably next.” Amika dipped the wick into the budding flames and quickly carried her starter candle to ignite the others one by one to her living room couch. Soft, yellow light bounced off the walls, offering a warm, calming glow. She smiled at Solas who was making gobbling and smacking noises while finishing his snack in the kitchen.
II BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! No one ever came to the back door. Amika’s nerves were on high alert. She had just spilled private secrets about fae culture to an outsider, after all. In a flash, she dashed to the kitchen, snatched a large cooking spoon from the wall, and crept toward the door, ready to whack any intruder who dared enter. Peeking through the hand-stitched checkered curtains, she squinted at a dark figure outside. BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! Amika stumbled backward, searching the room for something heavier. “Wh—who is it?” “Can you please let me in?” Relieved, Amika recognized the irritated tone instantly. It was her best friend from Gnome Colony, Annalene Gaelen. She cracked the door open to find Annalene holding a large, droopy leaf over her head to shield herself from the torrential rain. “Let me in! It’s pouring out here!” A loud clap of thunder and a flash of lightning sent both of them tumbling to the kitchen floor. Bursting into laughter, Annalene quickly closed the door, keeping the rain out. She marched through the small kitchen. “What a storm!” Solas circled her ankles, shaking off raindrops that glistened on his iridescent back. “What were you doing out there? Especially in this weather?” Amika said, astonished.
Annalene slipped off her soaked turquoise clogs and set them on the muddy mat. “I was with a school group researching local fungi when I got separated.” Amika raised an eyebrow. “They just left you out in this downpour?” Annalene shrugged, peeling off her wet coat and hanging it on the door handle. “You know me, always wandering off. We planned this trip two moons ago to gather specimens outside of Gnome Colony. I got carried away, excited over my haul. Then, boom, the rain hit. Total surprise.” She waved her arms dramatically, mimicking a tempest. “Kismet downpours always strike when you least expect them,” Amika replied, handing Annalene a dry towel for her damp hair. Annalene plopped onto the floor and dried off, frustration etched on her face. “I tried hiding in a tree, but it started flooding, so I had to bolt. I dropped everything on my way here—my samples, gone.” “That’s awful,” Amika said, flashing her a sympathetic look. “You know you can crash here as long as you need.” She moved to the hearth, heating water for tea. “Maybe once the storm clears, we can find your stuff.” Annalene unwound her long plaits and struggled to towel-dry her wavy hair. “I’ll have to start from scratch. Those samples were fragile fungi; there’s no chance they survived.” “Well, you’re lucky I’m home. My school had a last-minute faculty meeting, so Solas and I have just been hanging out.” “How's his wing?” Annalene asked, crouching to pet Solas. “Better, but he still can’t fly, poor thing.” Amika pulled two clay mugs from the cabinet, preparing the dried loose-leaf tea. “Raspberry leaf?” Annalene shivered as she ventured into Amika’s living room and flopped onto the couch. She grabbed a knitted throw draped over the back and wrapped it around her shoulders. “Perfect.”
Amika carefully carried two steaming mugs to the side table beside Annalene. Solas, now nestled in Annalene’s lap, perked up at a loud crash outside. “Did you hear that?” Amika asked, glancing at the front door. Another thunderous bang echoed. “What’s that?” Annalene sat up on her knees and listened, the thin blanket dropped from her shoulders and landed softly on top of Solas’s head. “Is that over by Breezemaple?” Solas pushed through the folds of the blanket and hopped to the floor with a thud. A jarring rumble quaked the walls of Amika’s home, startling both girls to their feet. Annalene blinked wildly. “What in the …?” Amika rushed to peek out the glass paneling of the front door to see if she could get a glimpse of what was causing all of the commotion, Solas scuttling fast behind her. Thick sheets of rain made it nearly impossible for her to see anything past the blurry haze of the window pane. A massive explosion sounded, followed by a blood-curdling screech, sending a tremor through the ground and shaking the very foundation of the house. The girls exchanged frantic glances, their hearts racing as they tried to comprehend the chaos unfolding outside. “What is that?” Annalene cried. Amika stared out at the rain, feeling helplessness and panic rise inside her. “It sounds like something in pain.” She flinched. “I can’t tell what, though.” Annalene began to pace. “Is that coming from Breezemaple?” Amika spun around, meeting Annalene's worried gaze. “What makes you think it’s Breezemaple?”
Tears pooled in the corners of Annalene’s deep-set cerulean eyes. “I don’t know. Call it a sisterly hunch. I just have this weird feeling that something’s not right with Dragon.” Amika took her friend’s hand. “I’m sure everything is fine. Once this storm settles, we can go out and check, alright?” Annalene hugged herself and rubbed at her elbows nervously. “I just hope she’s okay.” Amika’s nose was practically pressed against the window pane. “Well, for now, we should probably stay put. It does look like the storm is clearing up. It’s heading west ... and fast.” Amika pulled the curtains back into place, pivoting to face the room when she heard the front door creak open behind her. Gasping, she almost dropped her candle as she saw Annalene slipping on her clogs before ducking out the doorway. Amika quickly scrambled to follow her friend outside into the receding storm. “Annalene!” She yanked her favorite hooded cloak off the coat rack and wrapped it around her shoulders. Solas trotted over and gazed up at Amika. “Do you want me to come?” “Just wait inside, please.” “Whoa. That’s a really cool cape. It looks like you have lunar moth wings,” Solas mind-shared. “It’s pretty much the closest I’ll ever get to having my own pair,” Amika replied, clutching the fabric close to her slim figure to ward off the chill. “Do you want me to come?” he asked. “Just wait inside, please.” On her porch, Amika paused, heart pounding, watching Annalene squish through the soggy yard toward the crowd gathered in front of her house. Even the crew of hobgoblins harvesting wild grasses in the adjacent field had abandoned their massive pedal-powered tractors to join the mob gathered on the muddy road. The air smelled unnatural, a mixture of rain-soaked grass and burning chemicals. Amika gasped, raising a trembling hand to cover her
mouth and nose with the edge of her cloak when she spotted thick black clouds of smoke billowing up in the western skyline. The entire eastern side of the Rosemist Mountains was aglow with flickering flames. Annalene was right; it was coming from the direction of her adoptive sister’s school, Breezemaple Academy for Gifted Learners, Darragh’s only progressive integrative campus for enchanted folk. Pulling the door shut behind her, Amika splashed through the shallow puddles in her marshy lawn and caught up with Annalene, her cloak billowing behind her, displaying her adorned wings. A stern-faced male fae, dressed in a pristine uniform, made his way through the crowd. Amika glanced at the name tag patch sewn onto his shirt pocket: Messenger Manager from the Quarterly Press. Wiping beads of sweat off his forehead into his dark widow's peak hairline, he attempted to hand out pressed-paper leaflets while being peppered with questions: “What happened?” several nearby fae cried. “Oracles were alerted to a fight. Read it yourself,” the Messenger Manager said, pushing his way through the crowd. “Was that what that sound was? The oracles screeching?” Amika wondered aloud. She took a leaflet, still warm from the Scribes’ rushed handling of the urgent news, and shared it with Annalene. The blood drained from Annalene’s face as she read the alarming headline: Two Students Got into Destructive Fight in West End of Breezemaple; Whole section of Building Destroyed. “Dragon!” Amika gently took Annalene’s trembling hand in hers, her gaze filled with reassurance. “I’m sure she’s fine. She’s not the type to get into that kind of fight, right?” “We have to go find her!” Annalene sobbed, staggering back toward Amika’s house.
Amika felt panic rise in her chest as she glanced back at the fiery mountains. “Okay. Okay. We can take my pedal car. Let me see if we can get any more details first, alright?” She quickly scanned the crowd for a familiar face. Spotting one of her next-door neighbors, she rushed over to join him and the group of hobgoblin workers he was talking to. Amika patiently waited for a moment to pull him aside, keenly observing the distinct traits of the workers he engaged with. Their unique mannerisms and diverse expressions painted a vivid picture of their personalities. She had only read about hobgoblins in school and, despite the circumstances, was surprisingly excited to see their mousy features up close. All three males had spiky tousled manes that looked more like spines than hair, which flared out around the napes of their necks. Each of them had the characteristic hobgoblin underbite, accenting their exceedingly pointed nose and chin, and stood only about an arm’s length taller than Amika. Her heart clenched tight the moment she caught sight of the distinct frayed fragments of wings on their shoulder blades, a fae marking ritual used to distinguish the lower working class. Her neighbor turned his attention toward her. “Hey, Amika. Did you need something?” The crew of hobgoblins grumbled something to each other before excusing themselves from the conversation. “Vernon. Hi.” She pulled the cloth away from her mouth so he could hear her clearly. “Have you heard anything else about what happened?” Vernon shrugged. “All I know is what I read in that same leaflet you have.” Amika pointed at Annalene, who was anxiously pacing in the grass. “My friend’s sister might be hurt. What do we do? Is it even safe to go to the campus?” “I doubt they’ll let anyone in there. It looks really bad.”
Amika bit her lip and glanced back over at Annalene. “I have to at least try. I wouldn’t be able to stand myself if something had happened and we didn’t go check.” Vernon nodded; his brow furrowed as he surveyed the ominous smoke rising in the distance. “Just be careful, okay? That fire looks like it’s spreading quickly, and you don’t want to get caught in it. Do you have a way to get there? I can lend you my pedal cart if you need it—it’s sturdy enough to handle rough terrain.” Amika pointed at her house with a sigh of relief. “I have one parked around back—a two-seater. But thank you for the offer. I appreciate that.” The graying whiskers of his goatee framed his concerned smile. “Okay. You two be safe. Wouldn’t want either of you getting hurt out there.” Annalene plopped into the passenger seat and fiddled with the safety belt. “How does this thing work?” Amika reached over and tugged at the loose belt to tighten it around Annalene’s waist. “There ya go.” Amika clicked the driver’s seat into the adjusted distance from the pedals and tightened her own safety belt before tucking her feet into the foot straps. She pushed against the resistance of the pedals and slowly directed the cart away from the curb. Annalene clutched onto her pointed, green cap and held on to the metal frame as the wide-treaded tires grabbed at the muddy trail, flinging glops of road sludge on both of them as they picked up speed. Amika carefully guided the brick-red pedal cart around the thickest part of the gathered crowd and headed east on the damp dirt road. She huffed
quietly as her legs pumped full force up the peak of a small hill towards the rickety bridge that sat at the entrance of Sunnydale Ridge. They wound through the back roads of the wild countryside, which eventually dissolved away into tamed lawns dotted with exquisite fountains the closer they got to Fae City. Amika personally preferred unmanicured scenery to the maze of congested buildings that led to the heart of the metropolis, which was a big reason she chose to reside so far away from the hustle and bustle. Amika squirmed with claustrophobia the moment the cart passed the last of the tall copses of trees and underneath the arched stone gateway of Fae City. The smoke from the distant fire clung to the narrow rows of stucco houses and towering cob office buildings like a low-hanging cloud and made it more difficult for her to breathe. The city was eerily quiet—the typical hum of congested airborne fae air traffic that swarmed through the skies was nowhere to be found. Where is everyone? Amika took a sharp left and slammed on the brakes right before pummeling straight through a barricade of cones that were blocking the road. A massive gathering of Fae City residents, wounded creatures of all sizes, and makeshift medic tents were propped up to offer shelter and support for the horde of wounded Darragh inhabitants. A dedicated team of medic volunteers moved swiftly, their hands working tirelessly to attend to the long line of weary, waiting patients. They diligently refilled supply carts, an array of colorful bandages and antiseptics spilling over the edges, while assisting the wounded creatures in navigating the daunting paperwork that accompanied their distress. Within the chaos that swirled beneath the medic tents, strategically placed cots formed the only semblance of order. Amika’s gaze swept across the tragic scene, taking in the myriads of injuries and anguished faces around her. Everywhere she looked,
the weight of despair hung heavily in the air, a palpable presence that tugged at her heart. On one of the cots, two male fae were tending to the injured wing of a woodland creature. The sight stirred unsettling memories of Solas’s wounded wing, sending a jolt of disturbance through her. Flashes of their conversation about Merry Fair rapid-fired, each image striking her mind's eye with a sharp, pulsating pain. She tried to shake off the memories, but they clung to her like shadows, teasing out her feelings of guilt about revealing forbidden secrets. With each sharp pain, a wave of telepathic chatter flooded her mind. Something wasn’t right. Agony. Wails of grief. Suffering. Panic. Panic. Panic. Amika felt the weight of the world pressing down on her, each emotion crashing into her like a tidal wave. Tears streamed down her face as she struggled to breathe through the waves of grief that surged inside her. Every cry, every lament from those around her, reverberated in her mind, suffocating her. She fell to her knees, clutching the pedal cart for support. “Amika!” Annalene cried as she jumped out and rushed toward the driver’s seat. Amika dry heaved as the wave of telepathic communication invaded her being. The heightened sounds and emotional outcries raged through her sensitive, permeated mind. “I hear it all.” Shuffled papers. Arguments over treatment payment. Sobs over the death of a loved one. Canvas stretched tight as a new row of cots gets set out. “I can hear everything! Everything they are hearing and thinking, Annalene!” Amika grimaced in desperation. “It’s never been like this before. Help me. Please!” Bandages being wrapped around a wounded arm. Volunteers shouting orders. Young creatures crying for their mother’s attention. Dried ingredients being ground into a powder. Sloshing of tincture ingredients. She collapsed again, her nails digging into her forearms as she sobbed uncontrollably in the fetal position. “Stop it! Stop it! Stop it! Just make it stop!”
Amika’s pounding heartbeat drowned out Annalene’s muffled cries for a medic.
III Amika awoke with a start. Her hands trembled as she reached for a decorative pillow from the far edge of her couch and pulled it in close, tucking it under her chin. She tugged her linen tunic away from the small of her back, which was drenched with sweat. Solas popped his head up over the lump of her propped-up knees and waggled his backside. Amika shuddered and buried her face in the pillow in an effort to banish the remains of the dream from her mind. “Be glad you don’t get to mind-share my nightmares. Ugh. That was terrible.” He hopped up into her lap and nuzzled into the crook of her arm. She had refused to tell Solas about what happened when they had gotten home and didn’t want to cause him to worry about her like Annalene had. Something stirred in the hallway, startling both of them. “Annalene?” Amika called out in a hushed voice. Soft footsteps padded their way to the arched doorway of the living room. Annalene popped her head in and yawned. “Everything okay?” She had dark circles under her baggy eyes from a lack of sleep. Her long hair was disheveled and hanging down to her waist. “I’ve been trying to check on you every hour or so. You’ve been tossing and turning pretty bad. Crying out a lot in your sleep.”
Amika set Solas on the floor and patted his backside to get him to move away from where she wanted to attempt to stand up. “Nightmares.” “Anything you want to share?” Annalene asked, rubbing her tired eyes. Amika winced at the vivid images still haunting her. She hated the idea of divulging the details of her dream—crowds of imprisoned gnomes shackled and trudging forward in unison, their tiny bodies a stark contrast to the heavy chains that bound them. Each gnome wore a terrifying, soulless look in their eyes, devoid of hope as if the very essence of life had been completely drained from them. The dream felt too real. “Trust me. This one isn’t something you want to hear about.” One of the remaining lit beeswax candles near the couch sputtered violently before extinguishing into its last breath of smoke. “Well, your screaming sounded pretty horrible, even if you don’t tell me the details,” Annalene said, patting Amika on the knee. Amika followed Annalene back to the bedroom, catching herself from tumbling over now and then due to intermittent bouts of dizziness. “How did we get home?” “After a handful of medics took their turns trying to revive you, one offered to take both of us home in your pedal cart.” Annalene sat on the edge of the bed, which had still been made up from the previous morning. “Did you even try to sleep?” Annalene chuckled and pointed at the teapot and dirtied cup on Amika’s bedside table. “Let’s just say you may need to refill your dark-leaf tea supply.” Amika made her way over to collect the dishes to take back to the kitchen sink. “Annalene, you need to get some rest.” Annalene picked at a hangnail on her finger. “ I can’t. Trust me, I’ve tried. My head’s just circling about what happened. I don’t know if Dragon is okay.” She smiled at Amika “You seem to be doing better, but I can’t tell if
you’re in the clear for sure. I want to be in two places at once to make sure everyone is ok, and I can’t.” Amika led the way to the kitchen and placed the tea-stained items into a soaking bucket in the sink. Unease tugged at the pit of her stomach. Was she back to her normal self? What if what happened in the city was going to happen again? She shook the thought away, not having the capacity to consider that possibility. They still had Dragon to focus on. “Let me get dressed so I can take you home, then.” Annalene blinked in confusion.“You can’t. You’ve almost fallen over at least five times so far. You’ll get both of us killed for sure.” “The dizziness has already passed, Annalene. I just got up too quickly earlier, but I’m okay now. I promise. I’m feeling a hundred times better,” she fibbed. Annalene fidgeted uncomfortably and headed to the living room. “I don’t know. Maybe we can just wait until morning to leave.” Amika stood on her tiptoes and glanced out the kitchen window. She checked the position of the waxing moon and stars to gauge the time. “Whoa. It looks like it would be about dawn by the time we get there, anyway. I didn’t realize I slept that long.” Annalene pulled the folded blanket from the couch and wrapped it around her shoulders, causing one of the pillows to topple to the ground. Amika chuckled as Solas helped himself to the fluffy bedding and claimed his new nest. Annalene joined Amika at the window. “You sure you’re okay?” Amika nodded. “I’m okay. I know I can make the trip to Gnome Colony. No sweat,” she said, hoping her words could back her leg power. Annalene scooted closer and shared the blanket. “I suppose we could try. Just promise me you’ll pull over if you feel dizzy at all, okay?” Amika rested her head on the top of Annalene’s. “Promise.”
The rhythmic chorus of crickets welcomed them as they stepped into the cool night air. Amika closed and locked the door behind them, rubbing her arms and shivering. “A little early for a cold snap.” A breeze brushed past them, lending an ominous quality to her words. “You sure you’re okay to drive?” Annalene asked, concern etched on her face. Amika nodded, flashing a reassuring smile. “I’m pretty sure, but I promise to pull over and stop if I don’t feel okay.” The warm glow of dawn began creeping up on the eastern horizon as they rushed down the wooded trail. Exposed roots and boulders created interesting bumps along the way, often sending Solas flailing up in the air. The road narrowed and forked to the right, leading them away from the riverbank path toward the dense thickets of Fairyway Woods. Amika fought the urge to take her preferred route—a breathtaking path closest to the Crescent Call River. Now was not the time to revel in the beautiful sunrise casting its light on the flowing waters; they needed to hurry to get to Annalene’s. The last stretch of road wound through hilly terrain before arriving at the stone-walled entrance of Gnome Colony. The pebbled path quickly transformed into a winding maze of cobblestone streets through densely packed neighborhoods, forcing Amika to exert double the effort to navigate through town. Some of the more prestigious residents’ homes, like Elder Greenwood's, displayed the intricate masonry for which Gnome Colony was renowned, complete with thatched rooftops spilling over with lush, green
foliage. Other homes along Main Street burst with bold, eccentric colors, reflecting the unique personalities of their owners. Annalene’s house was located on the outskirts of the colony, in an area known as Mossbark Acres. The Gaelens lived in a charming home made of wood and moss-covered mudbrick, which blended harmoniously with the natural surroundings. Amika appreciated that in Gnome Colony, nearly every yard featured a family garden. Even in the Gnome Centre's roundabout, there were community gardens available for use, showcasing the friendly camaraderie that thrived in this part of Darragh. As they pulled up in front of the house, Carrick Gaelen, Annalene’s father, greeted them while attempting to bridle one of the family squirrels, preparing it for plowing the garden plot for the upcoming Kismet planting season. He peered up from beneath the brim of his gardening hat, the only headgear he wore aside from his favorite pointed red cap. They waved as they approached through the picket fence. Amika watched as the nervous rodent bucked in its restraints, startled by her presence. After the incident in Fae City, Amika had learned better than to try to mind-share with a creature in such a frightened state, so she refrained from offering it a calm greeting. Carrick wiped his muddy hands on his pants and approached, extending his palm for Solas to sniff. “Who’s this little guy?” he asked. Solas peeked shyly from behind Amika’s calves at the friendly gnome. “A moonbug?” he exclaimed. “Wow. Pretty tame, too. We usually only see them zipping around here on full moons. What a neat treat.” Solas peered up at Amika. “He seems nice. You promise he won’t eat me?” Solas asked, his voice trembling. Amika laughed and knelt to meet Solas at eye level. She mind-shared her response, “He’s really nice. I promise. They probably eat the same things you and your family do.” Carrick leaned toward Annalene and whispered, “What’s she doing?”
Annalene laughed. “Amika has the animal speak gift. She’s talking to him.” “Talking? I don’t hear any talking,” Carrick said, leaning in closer to observe the exchange between moonbug and fairy. “It’s because I can talk telepathically to him. His name is Solas. He kind of adopted me,” Amika explained. Annalene snickered. “More like you adopted each other.” Carrick crossed his arms atop his plump belly, intrigued. “Fascinating. Can you talk to us telepathically?” “I don’t think the gift works that way.” Amika stood up and gave Solas an encouraging nudge toward Carrick. “As far as I can tell, it’s limited to creatures that aren’t charmed with the gift of speech—those that we call the Wordless.” “I see. So, what were you guys talking about?” Carrick asked, clearly interested. Amika flashed a playful grin. “Oh, I just had to reassure him that you wouldn’t try to eat him.” Carrick burst into a loud belly laugh, slapping his knee. “Eat a moonbug? That’s absurd. You know we only enjoy fruits, vegetables, fungi, and mossy herbs. Maybe an unfertilized dragonfly egg here or there, but that’s only on special occasions.” Annalene’s face scrunched with concern. “Da, he is also a winged one. That would be like trying to eat their young.” Solas watched with innocent curiosity as Carrick cringed, the realization hitting him hard. “Yikes. That’s way worse. How about we keep that little detail to ourselves?” “Yeah. Better skip that for sure. I just told him you guys only eat the same kinds of things they eat. Pretty sure they don’t eat their young,” Amika explained.
Annalene made a disgusted face and changed the subject. “Dragon? Where is she?” She glanced in the direction of the cave behind their house. Carrick tied the reins of the squirrel to the porch handrail and wrapped his arms around his daughter for a comforting hug. “Dragon is okay. We had some help bringing her home. One of her friends from Breezemaple came to inform us of what had happened. She was in pretty bad shape, but Ma is taking good care of her. She’s tending to Dragon right now.” Annalene’s pent-up anxiety spilled over in a torrent of tears and sobs. “She’s going to be okay, honey. I promise you that Ma is looking after her,” Carrick reassured her, gently removing her green cap to kiss the top of her head. Amika smoothed Annalene’s wavy blonde hair. “She’s exhausted, Carrick. She was up all night worrying about Dragon and me.” Carrick shot Amika a concerned look. “Why you? What happened to you?” “It’s a long story. I can explain later. I think we need to get her to bed. Her nerves are a wreck on top of her being completely sleep-deprived.” “Got it. Okay. Let me help you take her to her room.” Annalene fought going to sleep in their arms and attempted to walk clumsily over the doorway threshold into the house, arms draped around Carrick’s and Amika’s shoulders for added support. Amika pushed open the door to Annalene’s bedroom, a cozy haven decorated in sunflowers, and followed Carrick as he sat Annalene on her bed. “I’ll give you some privacy to change, sweetie. Rest up,” Carrick said. “Thanks for all your help, Amika. If you need me, I’ll be in the garden plowing.” He flashed a warm smile and shut the door behind him. Amika fiddled with small trinkets on the dresser. “You’re not going to change?” Annalene lazily pulled an oversized shirt over her wrinkled clothes. “Too sleepy. This will do.” She sighed in relief and curled up on her bed.
Amika decided against arguing and let her friend drift off. She admired the intricately carved wood of the dresser and lifted a framed drawing of a young Annalene in a dragon costume next to a Trihorn Snapper in a gnome hat. “This is ridiculously cute. Is that Dragon?” Annalene opened one eye to take a look. “Oh, I forgot to show you that. Ma made us costumes to help Dragon feel at home.” Another yawn escaped Annalene before her breathing settled into a steady rhythm. Amika smiled, covering her sleeping friend with the comforter. She, on the other hand, was wide awake, adrenaline still pumping from the frantic rush to the Gaelens. Her heart skipped a beat when she realized someone was missing. “Oh, no. Solas.” Amika quietly closed Annalene’s door behind her and rushed to the front yard, praying Solas hadn’t bolted. She pushed open the heavy door and called out his name, causing a flock of birds to take flight in a startled frenzy. Solas was happily munching dandelion greens in the western corner of the garden. “What? I was hungry,” he said, looking up with a mouthful of greens. “You could at least ask. They might have been saving those for dinner,” Amika scolded. Solas shrugged unapologetically and returned to chomping his found breakfast. Sighing, Amika stretched her arms skyward. The sun peeked through the trees, casting shadows across the lawn. She breathed in the crisp air and plopped down on a mosaic bench, but a wave of anger and exhaustion washed over her, recalling the chaotic events of the day before. How could she have pushed herself to pedal all the way from Fae Colony? Uncomfortable feelings ricocheted through her as she negotiated whether or not they should have stayed at her place to try and get a little more sleep, but she knew Annalene wouldn’t have been able to.
Giving up her mental fight with what could have been, she stretched her palms toward the warm sunlight and allowed the serene garden to slowly calm her. What mattered was that everyone was on the mend, and she was just glad it hadn’t turned out much worse. She didn’t want to consider how things could have panned out if they had arrived at a different fate for Annalene’s adopted sister. Amika rested against the back of the bench and crossed her arms behind her neck, offering her head a place to rest. She closed her eyes and let the beauty of the warm sun and surroundings soak in. Mere moments after closing her eyes, she heard a series of footsteps slowly swishing through the lawn grass in her direction. Amika smiled and opened her eyes, expecting to find Aideen approaching. She gasped and nearly fell off the bench in shock. A kindly iridescent-winged dragon was there instead, towering over her and smiling.
IV “Hey, Mona!” Carrick called from across the yard, clutching the tamed squirrel’s reigns in his hand as he waved in their direction. The massive dragon turned and waved back; her pearly fangs popped out as she bared a friendly smile. Mona stepped over the sturdy fence, careful not to crush any of the delicate flowers on her way over, and hunkered down in a grassy spot in the garden. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.” Standing on her hind legs, the dragon surely reached at least eight feet tall. Solas booked it over to Amika’s bench and hid behind her feet. Amika couldn’t blame him. By the look of the dragon’s teeth, she couldn’t be completely sure she didn’t have a taste for moonbugs. Mona’s shiny scales glistened in the sun. Amika couldn’t help but stare. “You’re so beautiful. Your coloring. I thought dragons were red or black or something.” Mona winked and pulled something off a branch that stretched out past her head. “You should see me on a full moon.” She crunched into the flesh of a small piece of fruit. Her expression soured. “Not ripe yet.” “I’m Amika, by the way.” She chuckled and extended her hand. Realizing Mona could easily crush it between her thumb and forefinger, she quickly withdrew it. “Amika Briskbane?” Mona tossed the unripe fruit into the overgrown grass near the base of the tree. “I think I have you as my mentee for your apprenticeship at Breezemaple next quarter, correct?” Amika sat upright. “Really? I’m not even sure. I wasn’t told who I would be working with yet. I think my professors and the Conservatory want
me to focus on my immediate studies instead of getting carried away with any ideas of classes at Breezemaple.” Amika hesitated, unsure if it was appropriate to ask her next line of questions. “Will all of that change now? With everything that happened at the school? You being a potential mentor and all?” Mona shook her head sadly. “I take it you heard the terrible news. Such a travesty. You know, I think a lot will change because of this disaster. I’m not even sure how, yet, either. I do know that staff at Breezemaple want school to continue despite the setbacks, though.” A distant flapping of wings in the sky drew their attention upward. Cupping her hand near her eyes to block out the bright sun, Amika watched the shadowy figure head in the direction of the Gaelens’ street. “There’s Azric.” Mona waved up at the approaching dragon. “I wondered if he would show.” They stood watching him glide through the air. “Azric?”Amika asked. The drake looped gracefully above them, catching the thermals a few times before making his descent. “He’s my cousin,” Mona said “And kind of one of the warring parties in the fight that destroyed Breezemaple’s West End.” “Are you serious?” Amika’s eyes bugged out. “He’s alive? I thought whatever caused that surely —” Mona held up her talon before Amika could finish. “No. No. Let’s not consider that thought. Luckily no one perished on campus. There were some that got pretty hurt, but thank the stars nothing like that happened.” Amika chewed on the inside of her cheek and reflected on the scene at the makeshift clinic in Fae City. “Some were not so lucky in the surrounding areas, though. I think some of the flying debris and fires really took a toll outside of the campus.”
Mona frowned. “I know. I saw what the fire did to the forests of Rosemist Mountain. I can’t even fathom the extent of the damage.” Amika grimaced and took several steps backward as Azric touched down in front of them. “Well, I saw it first-hand. It was horrible.” Mona hung her head. “I’m sorry if your colony was affected by this tragedy.” “Well, there is no if about it. It was,” Amika said under her breath. Mona nodded at her cousin and smiled uncomfortably. “Hey, Azric. I’m glad you came.” His pewter scales were streaked with lacerations near the nape of his neck all the way up to his jawline. Three deep gashes ran diagonally from his left brow to the edge of his spiny cheekbone, clearly marking where he had been clawed by his opponent. He attempted a meek wave at Mona with his badly bandaged left arm and nodded once to greet Amika. The sound of footsteps crunching on gravel turned their attention to Carrick, who was approaching the group with a tired, harnessed squirrel. “Hey, there. You must be another one of Dragon’s classmates from Breezemaple?” he said, addressing the drake. The skittish rodent pulled out of its bridle as Carrick loosened the restraints and scampered off into the woods before Amika could mind-share a greeting with it. She wanted to check and see if any of its family had been harmed in the previous day’s events. Carrick groaned and sat down on the bench next to Amika. He glanced around the group, quietly waiting for a formal introduction. “Um. Sir. I’m—” Azric’s voice caught in his throat. “This is my cousin, Azric, Mr. Gaelen,” Mona finished the introduction. The friendly gnome removed his hat and combed his sweaty bangs out of his face with his calloused fingers. “Please. Call me Carrick.”
“Well, Carrick. Sir.” Azric averted the patient gnome’s gaze. “I actually need to apologize.” “Apologize? Did you land on some of my crops?” Carrick asked, a baffled look on his face. Amika grimaced, knowing full well what Azric was about to confess. “Well, sir. Actually … I—I’m part of the reason your—your—” Azric stammered through panicked breaths. “It’s okay, son. Go ahead. I’m a reasonable gnome. I’m sure what you have to say can’t be that bad.” “Well, sir, I’m the reason Dragon got hurt at school,” Azric said, almost completely inaudibly. Carrick sucked in a breath. He lifted his exhausted body off the mosaicked bench to face the timid drake directly, gnome to dragon. “I apologize. I think I misheard you.” Azric glanced over at Mona, looking for help. “You need to tell him, Azric,” Mona urged. Carrick shot a glance up at Mona, his face flushed with anger. “I thought you said the fight was caused by a phoenix?” Mona stepped forward, creating a barrier between Carrick and Azric. “It was, Carrick. Kora was the one who lost control. Azric was trying to stop her.” Carrick nodded and covered his mouth with his hand. “I just realized you’re that dragon. The one that sat in front of our daughter in class?” Azric took a step back, stumbling into the branches of the fruit tree behind him. Amika knew Carrick to be kind-hearted, but in this moment, she could tell he was doing everything in his power to contain his anger at this unsettling news. Carrick gave Azric a once over and wagged his finger at him. “It’s a good thing gnomes have a way of sensing character.” Something softened in
the stern gnome’s chestnut eyes. “You being here to check on Dragon tells me something. Cowards don’t show up to take ownership of their faults. You showed up to face Dragon’s family for your part in the damage done, unlike that other classmate of yours. That takes a tremendous amount of courage, son.” Azric clenched his jaw. “Kora’s not a coward! She’s just angry. And scared. You think she wanted to lose control?” “Mind your words. You’re a guest, Azric,” Mona shot. Even the cool-headed dragon was getting her nerves tested. Carrick’s warning look made Amika feel the urge to sprint back to Annalene’s room and avoid the brewing conflict erupting in the front yard. “I find it interesting that you would defend someone who would do that to you,” he said, motioning to Azric’s visible wounds. “To Breezemaple. To everyone and their homes on the outside of your school’s campus.” Amika stood frozen, unsure how to respond as tension crackled in the air. Azric glared down at Carrick defensively. “Listen. You don’t know anything about her. She has nothing. I was the closest thing she had to family. Now I don’t know where she is. How hurt she is. She was my friend.” Azric’s attempt at lending some perspective to the situation didn’t seem to impress Carrick in the least. “She still is my friend,”Azric asserted. “Sounds more like an enemy the way she tore you up. Friends don’t treat each other that way,” Carrick said sternly. Mona joined Amika where she was sitting, stepping out of the way of the confrontation. Even his own cousin wasn’t willing to interfere with Azric coming face to face with the consequences of his actions. “Let me tell you something about family, son. We don’t treat each other that way. Not in this house. Not in this colony.” Carrick circled Azric’s feet, his even temper had finally met its edge. “Now dragons may have a
different way of approaching things, but that kind of behavior is unheard of here. I don’t care if you grow up with nothing. You can still amount to something besides pent-up rage at the world,” he chided, fists clenched. Azric slumped over, defeated by the truth in Carrick’s words. “She can be mean. I know that, and I have tried to talk sense into her plenty of times. But this time.” He gave Carrick a pleading look. “You have to believe me. I don’t think she meant to do it. She wasn’t herself. Usually, I can get through to her when she’s upset. It’s like something else took over.” Amika’s thoughts synched with Azric’s statement—her mind flickering between unrecognizable surges of emotions, especially at the words “took over.” Mona’s calm voice and words were the only thing preventing Amika from feeling cracked completely open to the flood of telepathic sensations. “I’m sorry I can’t offer more defense to this,” Mona apologized. “I didn’t see half of it. I was busy helping Dragon and the professors get the students out of the building safely.” Mona shot an apologetic glance at Azric before her expression flashed with a sense of hopeful insight. “Professor Culpepper was there. He saw it. Maybe he could give more perspective?” Mona offered. Azric glowered down at his feet and shook his head. “He’s hurt badly as well. I don’t think he would be a neutral party in this conversation.” Sudden, intrusive visuals erupted in Amika’s inner sight. She clutched her head with both hands as images of Azric flashed through her mind: He carries a wounded figure toward a gaping, charred hole in a wall of a building. Frantically running in front of a blaze of fire calling for help. Dragon blasts out of a nearby classroom window in a riot of explosive fire. Toppling over and sobbing as waves of devestating heartache surges through his body.
Amika looked wearily at Azric, her head dizzy from the mental projection. He was holding his own head in his hands and appeared to be the source of the vision that popped into her mind—the powerful charge of Azric’s emotions that invaded her head had allowed her to see his memories through his perspective—a new means of telepathic conversation absent of actual words. Amika had to steady herself on the bench to stop from toppling over from the intensity of this new experience. “Are you okay?” Mona asked, a concerned look on her face. Aideen Gaelen, Annalene’s mother, popped her head out the front door before Amika could respond. “Carrick! I think we should send Mona over to Amika’s …” Aideen stopped herself as she noticed the gathering on her front lawn. “Oh, goodness. Well, never mind. Amika’s here.” She beamed in relief. “Is Annalene with you? We’ve been worried sick.” Carrick left his post in the heated conversation and walked over to his concerned wife, eager to focus on other things. He took her hands in his, brushed a strand of her long blonde hair out of her eyes, and kissed her on the forehead. “Annalene’s fast asleep in her room. She had a bit of a night, so she’s getting some rest.” Aideen glanced over at the pensive group in her sitting garden and smiled cheerily. “Good morning, everyone.” She offered a welcoming nod. “Mona. And this must be Azric?” Carrick shot her a hurt look. “You knew he was coming? A little warning would have been nice.” “I had a little girl talk with Mona when you and your friends were carting Dragon up to her cave. She mentioned Azric was going to come and check on her today.” Azric huffed and crossed his arms, turning away from Aideen’s gaze.
Aideen gave her husband a disapproving look. “Oh, no. Carrick Gaelen, what did you say to him?” Carrick nudged his wife toward the house. “Nothing. Nothing. Everything’s fine. Just a little ruffled feathers is all. Nothing to be too concerned about.” Azric groaned and walked away from the group. “Ruffled scales, you mean?” Aideen said, casting a concerned gaze toward the upset dragon, who was now pacing in their backyard. Carrick gave her a soft peck on the cheek. “I promise. I said what needed to be said. If he’s at all upset, he might need to truly consider how we feel about what happened to Dragon,” Aideen’s brow knit together. Carrick quickly turned to the rest of the group and forced a smile, preventing his wife from saying anything further. “Who wants breakfast?” Aideen busied herself with washing a handful of fresh produce in the carved stone basin and hummed something sweet to herself. A low fire crackled in the stone woodstove, offering the room a cozy reprieve from the chill outside. Amika, eager to distract herself from the recent argument by helping prepare the meal, rummaged through several unmarked containers on the storage closet shelves. “I can’t seem to find the millet flour.” Aideen left a heap of half-chopped vegetables on the wooden cutting board and stepped into the dried-goods closet next to Amika, carrying on humming her charming tune while digging through the items on the shelves. Using her chubby index finger as her guide, Aideen read through the peeling labels on the line of containers in front of her.“Here it is. Just hiding behind the dried herbs.” She handed the bulky bag to Amika and grabbed several of the jars of seasoning to add to the vegetable mash. Aideen was about to bring out a tray of dragonfly eggs for a scramble but Amika quickly stopped her. “Oh, no. Not those, please. I have a
moonbug friend with me that may take offense,” Amika said, waving a disapproving hand at the carton of eggs. Aideen’s warm spirit shone through her smiling cerulean eyes. “Oh, stars above, a moonbug.” She slid the tray back into place on the shelf. “Veggies only it is.” “I appreciate that. Being in a new place is already making him a little nervous as it is. I’m afraid he would get scared off. His wing is still mending from an injury and it would devastate me if he tried to take off out of fear and hurt himself further,” Amika said as she slipped on an apron, making sure to double over the cloth ties around her waist. Aideen patted Amika’s arm. “I understand, dear. We will do whatever we can to make him feel welcome in our home.” Amika rubbed a soapberry in her hands to create a thick lather and quickly scrubbed them in the sink. “Where do you want me to work on the biscuits?” Aideen offered Amika a mixing bowl and pointed her toward a cleared-off section of the countertop. “How about you help right over there?” Amika collected the necessary utensils and started adding ingredients to the large bowl on the counter. “I don’t know if I’ve ever told you, but I think your sitting garden is just beautiful, Aideen. Probably one of my favorite places in all of Gnome Colony.” Amika stirred the heavy mixing spoon through the thick batter. The dimple in Aideen’s left cheek deepened as she beamed with pride. “It’s my favorite place.” She paused and popped a piece of chopped mushroom into her mouth. “You should see it at sun up. Absolutely stunning.” Aideen sighed and ladeled a spoonful of ingredients into a large pan. “I didn’t get a lot of time to enjoy it this morning before Mona and Azric showed up. I would like to see what you mean one of these days,” Amika said.
Aideen chopped the last of the mushrooms and set them aside in a bowl. “Annalene tells me you have a garden?” Millet flour clouded up and dusted the stone backsplash each time Amika spooned out clumpy batter into rows on a baking sheet. “I do. It’s a roof garden. You’d love it, I’m sure. Tons of veggies and wildflowers. Solas usually snacks on the weeds I pull up. Well, at least he has since he’s been staying with me.” “Solas?” “My moonbug friend.” “Oh. Right. I didn’t realize they had names. Did you give him that?” “Oh, no. He told me.” Aideen stopped mid-chop. “I must be mistaken. I thought you said he told you.” Amika wiped a smear of batter from her forehead with the back of her hand. “He did. He mind-shared his name when we met in the woods near my house,” she said matter-of-factly. Several moments passed before Aideen cleared her throat. It was obvious Annalene hadn’t mentioned her gift to either of her parents. “Oh. Well, that’s lovely, dear,” she said, clearly trying to fill the awkward silence. Amika scraped the last of the sticky ingredients on the pan and brought the dirty dishes to the sink to start washing. She glanced out the window up the hill toward the rocky face of Dragon’s cave. “Is she really okay? I know Annalene was worried sick,” Amika said, changing the subject. “Dragon’s doing better. I stayed with her most of the night. I wasn’t sure if she had any major internal injuries, so I wanted to keep a close eye on her.” Amika placed the tray of biscuits in the woodburning stove and wiped her hands on her apron. “I can’t even imagine how frightening that is. To just wait and see all night like that.”
Aideen shook her head and sniffed back tears. “I don’t ever want to go through that again. I was worried sick.” Amika walked over and gave Aideen a comforting side hug. “Should I go check on Annalene?” Aideen leaned into the embrace and kept stirring without looking up. “Let her rest. All is well for now, so no reason to wake her.” Amika, uncertain of what to do next, glanced around the room. “Is there anything else I can do to help?” Aideen flashed a warm smile. “You make yourself at home, sweetheart, okay? I’m just going to finish up here and get the table ready.” Amika walked to the tall bookshelves that lined the earthen walls of the Gaelens’ living room and ran a ringer along the titles. The spine of one particular book stood out a little further than its neighbors. Humans’ Guide to … The rest of the title was worn so badly Amika couldn’t make out the words. She leaned in for a closer look. “Something catch your eye in particular?” Amika jumped and swiveled around guiltily, stepping away from the private library. Carrick stepped closer to investigate, combing his freshly washed beard. “I’m … I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry. It’s just I’ve never seen books like …” Amika stammered. Carrick set his comb on a side table and pulled out the exact book Amika was trying to inspect. “You mean books about humans?” Amika took a step back, stumbling into a mushroom-shaped floor lamp. “It—it’s forbidden, right? We’re not supposed to learn about them.” “Depends on who you ask.” Carrick gave her a wink and cracked open the delicate pages of the worn tome.
Amika stepped closer and cautiously peered over Carrick’s shoulder as he flipped through the book. “I mean, I know the fae learn about how to interact with their world, but beyond that …” The sound of someone plopping down on the couch behind them startled them both. Annalene smiled up at them as she snacked on a bowl of ripe berries. “Something smells delicious.” She offered some fresh berries to Amika and waved her over to sit next to her. Amika’s tummy grumbled for more after she finished her handful. Annalene yawned loudly. “Where’s Ma? It looked like breakfast was almost ready in there.” Carrick leaned over and kissed Annalene on the top of her head as he passed by, heading toward the kitchen. “Did you get some good rest?” “I think so. I’m feeling better for sure. Any news on Dragon?” Annalene offered another handful of fruit to Amika. “I believe Ma is visiting with her up in the cave at the moment,” his voice was almost completely drowned out by the clanking and clashing of various dishware in his arms, “so, how about we set up the table for breakfast? We can eat as soon as she comes back down the hill.” Annalene left the near-empty bowl of berries on the moss-covered stone ottoman and walked over to peek out the living room window. “Who else is here? I thought I heard voices talking outside in the front garden?” Carrick held the dishes close to his chest and exchanged a worried glance with Amika. “Annalene, sweetie, I want you to know that Dragon is recovering and getting better, okay?” Annalene’s face grew pale as she took a step back. “How badly was she hurt?” Carrick gently set the dishes down on the cushion next to Amika and quickly moved toward Annalene before she could reach for the front door. “Settle down. Everything is fine, honey. Everything is fine.”
“But I need to check on her! She needs me, Da.” Carrick pulled her away from the door and took her hands in his. “The best thing you can do right now is let her get some sleep.” “There’s also something else I need to tell you.” He took a hesitant step back. “We have some guests.” Annalene pulled away. “Guests? What kind of guests?” “Well, one of them is a friend of Dragon’s. She helped us get her back safe. Her name is Mona.” “Well, I have to thank her, then. She saved my sister.” Carrick sighed heavily and prepared himself for an inevitable argument. “Annalene, honey. Can you please wait so we can talk this through before you go out there saying anything to anyone?” Annalene’s eyes flicked from Carrick to Amika. “I don’t understand. What’s the big deal?” Amika got up and extended her hand to take Annalene’s to lead her back to the couch. “He is trying to tell you. I think maybe there’s some concern you may get upset.” “Why would I get upset?”Annalene demanded, her patience clearly tested. “You can be particularly protective. Especially of Dragon,” Carrick explained, hints of tender concern shone in his eyes. Annalene blinked wildly; her cheeks flushed with frustration. “Out with it already. What aren’t you telling me here?” “There’s a drake out there named Azric. He was part of the fight that destroyed Breezemaple,” Amika offered the sensitive words in a slow and even tone, trying to cushion the blow. Annalene’s hot temper showed through on her reddened face. “He what?” Her hands clenched into fists and she rushed full force at the door. “That’s it. Where’s my shillelagh? I’ll knock his talons clean off.”
Carrick gently grabbed Annalene by the wrist. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, honey. I know. I know. I get it. Your anger is justified, trust me. Please. Just listen.” He held her at a distance by the arms. “I was also very angry when I found out. Let’s just take a deep breath, okay?” “A deep breath, Da? Really? She’s not okay!”Annalene cried, wiping tears away with the back of her hand. Amika stepped in to join Carrick’s efforts to settle his daughter down. “You trust me, right?” Annalene struggled out of Carrick’s grip and huffed angrily at her father. Even though there was a hard-pressed scowl on her face, she seemed somewhat willing to hear Amika out. “Yes. You know I do.” “And my mind-sharing gift? You know I can hear things unspoken, right?” Annalene shrugged in acknowledgment. “Sure. Yeah. I guess. Why?” “I don’t know how I saw it, but I did. I’ve never been able to see things before,” Amika said, nearly a whisper. Annalene’s brow knit together. “What do you mean? Saw what?” “When Azric introduced himself, I got a flash in my mind. I don’t know how, but it was like I could see things from his perspective for a moment. Images of what happened during the fight. He was trying to defend Dragon, not hurt her.” “But he didn’t outright tell you that though, right?” Annalene’s breathing steadied and the color started to dissipate from her cheeks. “You just saw things flash through your mind? How do you know he feels bad about what he did?” “That’s a good question,” Carrick said, scratching at his graying beard. “You see? You don’t know if he has any kind of remorse …” Annalene fumed.
“Listen. You have to trust me on this. We can’t go out there ready to pick a fight with him. He feels terrible about what happened. That’s why he’s here. To apologize to us. To Dragon,” Amika urged. “She is right about that. He did attempt an apology,” Carrick said. “And you and Ma aren’t upset? Really?” Annalene shot; her eyes narrow with skepticism. Carrick scrunched up his nose and sighed heavily. “We aren’t going to talk about how I feel about it, honey. You’ll get your shillelagh for sure.” Annalene slumped down on the couch. The stack of dinnerware slid slowly toward her and clanked against her lap as she sat back against the cushions. “So, what do I do, then? Pretend nothing happened? You know I can’t do that.” “Well, you may need to stay away from him if you’re going to take a swing,” Carrick warned. “I won’t have this break out into more fighting, understood?” Annalene crossed her arms in front of her chest and huffed. “Yes, Da. I won’t take a swing.” Annalene scowled at the door. “You all may think he is here to keep the peace, but Dragon got hurt and he played a part in that.” She traced the floral pattern on her broom skirt as a distraction. “I trust you, Amika, but he hasn’t earned a speck of my trust just because you say he’s innocent. I need some time. More evidence,” she snarled. Carrick gestured for his daughter to hand him the table settings. “Time is understandable. I couldn’t agree more. Take all the time you need.” Carrick waved Amika over and nodded his head in the direction of the kitchen. “I’m going to start setting the table. In the meantime”—he gently nudged his daughter toward the kitchen sink and kissed her on the forehead—“those dishes need some washing. That might be a good way to get out some of that anger.”
Amika walked to the outdoor dining area, hands full of warm food platters. She glanced over her shoulder at Annalene, who was muttering frustrations out the open kitchen window. Carrick followed Amika’s gaze as he helped carry out a handful of cutlery. “She’ll be okay. She’s just very protective of Dragon.” Carrick arranged the last of the dinner-wear on the tabletop and smoothed out the surface of the tablecloth before heading back inside, leaving Amika to herself, to get the last of the food. Solas scuttled over and plopped down to nibble on the grass that poked out around the flagstone. “You sure have been quiet. Everything okay?” Amika was unsure how to answer him. She didn’t want to scare him with everything she had been through over the past few days. “I don’t want to assume you’re avoiding me, but um,”—he glanced up at her, sadness in his eyes—"are you avoiding me?” “It’s just been difficult these past few days with everything,” she admitted softly. The weight of her thoughts pressed heavily on her, and she made a concerted effort to shield her mind from the intrusive memories of conflict that threatened to surge forward. The vivid images played at the edges of her consciousness, but she pushed them aside with determination. She understood clearly that something drastic had changed with her gifts—emotions and thoughts were now capable of intruding upon her mind. Could this shift in her gifts be contained within her mind, or could it somehow reach Solas as well? The uncertainty gnawed at her, leaving her both anxious and curious about the depths of their connection. Solas’s pincers clacked as he chewed his food. “Well, I’m here if you need to talk, okay?” Amika stared down at the center of the table and nodded, acknowledging his concern. She felt the urge to change the subject to something lighter, “Something’s missing.” Amika drummed her fingers on the checkered tablecloth. “Flowers. We need some flowers here.” She whipped
around toward the house. “Carrick?” she called to him as he approached with the last of the side dishes. “Is it okay if I clip some flowers from the garden to add to a vase for a centerpiece?” Carrick beamed. “That’s a great idea.” He set the items down on a pair of Aideen’s homemade quilted potholders. “I’ll join you.” Carrick led the way to an outdoor woodworking shed, leaving Solas chomping his heart’s desire. “Just need to get a pair of clippers first.” Carrick pushed the door open, revealing a dusty workshop that smelled of freshly cut wood and the sweet sting of sun-kissed Berrywine maple resin. One of his recent projects sat upright on his carving table, a light layer of curled shavings lay at the base of its legs. Amika peeked in and gasped in surprise at a large, unfinished wood project in the center of the shed. “What is that?” Carrick pulled down a small, clay vase from the top shelf of a display case. “That’s a gift for Dragon for her upcoming birthday. The big twenty-five.” He winked. “Don’t tell her. It’s a surprise.” “What’s it going to be?” she asked, admiring his handiwork. Carrick wiped the dust off of the vase with the end of his shirt, revealing a colorful design painted on the body of the vessel. “A bookshelf. She loves reading. Even more so since she started school.” The love for his adopted daughter shone in his eyes. “I’ve only just gotten started on carving the shelves.” “Well, it looks amazing so far. I’ve always admired how gnomes carve such beautiful things,” she said, taking in a final glance at the project before he closed the door behind them. They walked to a sunny spot at the edge of Aideen’s sitting garden where vibrant trumpet flowers spilled over the top of the picket fence. Carrick hummed to himself as he clipped a handful of four small blossoms from the main stem and gathered them in a bunch. “The blooms have come in thick this year.”
Amika leaned toward them and inhaled the sweet scent of the newly budded blossoms. “They’re so beautiful. I wish I could grow some of these on my rooftop garden. I’d just be afraid they’d take over the top of the house.” Carrick chuckled. “They tend to do that, that’s for sure.” He plopped the handful of cut flowers into the modest clay vase and gestured to the dining table for them to take a seat. “So, Amika. Tell me a little more about this gift of yours. It has me curious. Especially since you mentioned picking up on Azric’s motives for being here.” Amika’s face blanched and her throat tightened. “Well. I usually don’t bring it up to others. It tends to make them a little unnerved,” she coughed out uncomfortably, following Carrick’s lead and taking a seat on the polished wood bench. “I can easily understand that. Privacy is an important thing, especially when it comes to someone outside of you wandering around in your thoughts.” He tapped his temple twice for good measure. Her eyebrows shot up and she erupted in laughter. “And you still want to hear about it?” Carrick placed the fresh bouquet in the center of the table and rearranged the large blooms in the vase to his satisfaction. “I’m a gnome of intellect—always looking to learn and understand new things. If you seek to understand the unknown, you become less afraid of it. Plus, I know you’re a trustworthy fae.” He took a seat next to Amika and grabbed one of the millet biscuits from the plate and tore off a piece to nibble on. “Please. I’d be open to talking about it if you are.” She appreciated that he didn’t harbor reason to be afraid of her, but she was still unsure of what she could share. Amika bit her bottom lip in hesitance and considered what she felt comfortable sharing. “I mean, it’s something I’ve always had, I guess. I don’t remember not having this gift. It’s just recently …” Amika stared down at the table and reflected on the painful experience at the outdoor clinic. She recoiled reflexively. “Something’s
changed and I’m not sure why or what caused it. Maybe it’s because I’m reaching adolescence soon? That’s the only thing that makes any sense.” “That’s right,” he offered empathetically. “Eighty-six is right around the corner for you. Both you and Dragon are celebrating pretty big milestones.” Amika wrinkled her nose. “Well, if turning eighty-six means this happens, I don’t want it.” “What’s going on exactly? If you don’t mind me asking,” he said in a fatherly tone. Amika’s thoughts dashed around how to explain the changes. “I’m starting to get images. Flashes of things I can almost see in my head.” She sat upright, suddenly relieved that she had a clear example she could articulate. “Like how I saw what was going on with Azric almost like a shared memory. I’ve never been able to do that before. Especially not with anyone outside of the Wordless.” In that moment, Amika wanted nothing more than to hold on to the simpler times of her life—the days when she wasn’t questioning or frightened of her gift and felt more at peace with who she was. “It’s always been only shared thoughts like I can hear what’s being said between me and someone else. But not seeing what they see.” He nodded for her to continue, which made her feel safe opening up about her feelings. “Go on,” he encouraged. “Something unsettling happened yesterday in Fae City.” She sucked in a breath. “Annalene and I went there to check on the fire and we ended up in the Quadrangle with a crowd of wounded Wordless. They had all barely escaped the damage in the woods.” Carrick’s worry lines deepened on his forehead. “Do you mind me asking more about what happened there? Was it seeing all of the hurt creatures that upset you?”
Amika sighed and paused to collect her thoughts. “No, it was more than that.” She appreciated that he allowed her space to navigate her disturbing changes. “For starters, there’s a rule of respect when it comes to mind-sharing, right? I can’t just jump around into creatures’ thoughts. Not without approaching and asking permission to connect.” Carrick laughed and crossed his arms across his chest. “I would assume no one would want to be able to do that.” “That would be a serious violation of boundaries. I would never do such a thing,” she protested. Carrick held his hands up apologetically. “Oh, no, Amika. I would never assume such a thing about you. One would have to be careful with a power like that. You seem to have a responsible grip on these kinds of things.” He smiled reassuringly. His confidence in her helped her feel more at ease. She decided to continue, “So, there are others in Fae Colony that have this same gift—mind-sharing. There are some that have more developed gifts …” Carrick nodded. “The Oracle team. I’m aware of their presence and function in Darragh. Am important group of individuals, if you ask me.” Amika’s edginess ticked down another notch, given he knew about these details of the fae. “Apparently, after Oracles sent out the alarm connected to the destruction of Breezemaple, a number of the city-fae helped contribute to the response team to communicate with the Wordless that showed up at the clinic.” Amika shuddered as she recalled the sights and sounds from the clinic grounds. Carrick leaned forward and offered a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about this. It can tell this is painful for you.” She took several breaths and closed her eyes. “It’s alright. Sharing it helps me feel not so alone in what I experienced. It’s just—I can’t shake how
overwhelming it was.” The gentle sound of her sleeve sliding against her pant leg alerted her to the fact that she had involuntarily pulled her legs up and was now rocking and holding onto her legs. She stopped herself and regained clarity and composure, afraid of how she appeared in front of Carrick. Almost as if on cue, he sat closer and offered a protective hug. “You’re going to be okay, kiddo.” Amika choked back a sob and pushed ahead with her story, “It was horrible. When we arrived in the city, I could feel everything. Every sound. Every cry. Pain seemed to reverberate in my thoughts. It was like everything came at me from all directions.” “Feel them? That’s horrifying. Did the others experience the same intensity?” “I don’t know. I ended up passing out because I couldn’t handle it all.” A heaviness weighed on Amika’s heart as she struggled to find the right words to describe her experience. Waves of shame surged inside her, making it difficult to focus on what she was saying. “Annalene had to drive us home. It just overtook me.” She was trembling and glanced over at Carrick, searching for a hint of validation or comfort. He offered a pained smile in an attempt to reassure her. “To experience all of that firsthand … that’s just—” He patted her shoulder sympathetically. “I can’t even imagine what that’s like.” He glanced up at the sky to collect his thoughts. “It hurts to hear you went through that,” he said empathically. Amika shook her head in disbelief as memories of Fae City flooded her mind. “I had no idea it was going to happen, so there was no way for me to prepare. Now I’m just trying to wrap my head around what to do next. I’m not completely sure it won’t happen again, especially being around others right now. That scares me.” A whooshing sound overhead pulled their attention away from their conversation; grass clippings and dust circulated under Mona’s flapping
wings as she touched down in the clearing near the dining area. She was carrying a handful of bright wildflowers. “I wanted to check in and add a little something to the table,” Mona said, tucking her handful of flowers in with the centerpiece bouquet. Her timing was curious. “Hey there, Amika. Everything okay? You look a little upset,” Mona said, taking a seat on a nearby tree stump. Amika attempted to control her breathing again. “I was just talking about some things I’ve been struggling with,” she said warily. She wasn’t sure how much she wanted to open up to her new acquaintance. Talking freely about her mind-sharing gifts with the Gaelens had already left her feeling a little raw and unnerved. Carrick pat Amika on the knee and got up from the table. “You okay if I leave you two to talk? I’m going to refill the woodpile and check on my daughter.” Amika gave an apprehensive nod. “Just relax for a little bit, Amika. You’ve had an overwhelming day.” He smiled up at Mona. “Take it easy on her, Mona.” He gave them a cheerful tip of his cap and headed over to a neatly stacked woodpile to chop some recently fallen limbs. Mona scanned Amika’s tense posture. “Is there anything I can help with?” Amika glanced up at her, only half-interested in talking. She wasn’t sure she wanted to open any more doors of her private struggle. Especially with someone she just met. “I dunno. I guess I also have a lot of questions about what happened at Breezemaple. About Azric and that fight.” Amika paused to consider how to proceed. She was unsure if she could trust Mona with the things she privately saw in her thoughts. “I don’t know how everything started, but it caused a lot of damage. Not just to the school. You saw how upset everyone was.”
There was a heaviness in Mona’s gaze. “I don’t think Azric realizes the extent of how bad things got. Dragons are feared now because of that one fight. There’s talk of expelling him for good.” Amika considered the gravity of Mona’s words—what that meant for her as a dragon fearing for her own kind as well as the consequences her cousin would face. She weighed her next words carefully. She wanted to be mindful that Mona was also missing a big piece of how her friends were handling everything. “It’s not just Breezemaple, Mona. Take the Gaelens. I mean, they think they understand why he’s here, but have you really talked with them? Gnomes always try to be inclusive and accepting.” Amika shook her head. “But if you hurt one of their own …” “I know. I get it. I was unsure myself if it was a good idea for him to come here.” Mona shrugged. “He insisted.” The casual tone in Mona’s last comment grated on Amika’s nerves. Amika got up from the table, her agitation finally coming to a head. “I don’t think you do, Mona. And why did he insist? For what purpose? To get a pat on the back? After everything Annalene told me he did to Dragon?” Mona’s face flushed with frustration. “He’s difficult to get through to, Amika. I don’t think you understand what his presence here means in this whole situation. The fact that he showed up to attempt a conversation with Dragon’s family? He needs some credit for trying to do the right thing, okay?” Amika felt herself starting to lose control of her anger. “Well, is he going to stay? To try and talk to Dragon at least?” Mona averted Amika’s antagonism and glanced over at Azric, who was sulking under the tall trees. Mona shook her head sadly. “I don’t know. I think even he’s second-guessing why he came at this point. Would you want to stay with all of this aimed at you?”
Anger and protectiveness of the Gaelen family swelled inside Amika. “It’s justified. Dragon deserves an apology. They all do,” Amika said flatly, disgusted with the whole conversation. A burst of lighthearted laughter erupted near the stairs that led up to Dragon’s hidden living quarters, which offered Amika a jarring snap back into the present. She quickly shoved her feelings aside and hid any signs that she was upset as Carrick and Aideen approached, arm in arm. Mona’s gaze was stone cold as she lifted off the ground. “Looks like it may be time to eat. I’ll go get Azric and let him know.”
V Amika’s stomach knotted with apprehension. She was not looking forward to being around everyone in such tense circumstances. She understood the Gaelens were trying to do the right thing by inviting Azric to join them at the meal as a peace offering, but she was fairly certain things could turn catastrophic. And fast. Amika’s stomach turned at the thought of her own reaction to Mona. She didn’t want to think about how Annalene would act with Azric, especially since she was typically not one to hold back her feelings. Despite how delicious everything in front of her smelled, she couldn’t bring herself to even try a single bite of the food. Knowing full well that whatever would take place over the meal would result in her getting an overwhelming emotional hit, she resolved to do whatever it took to keep her guard up as much as possible. She would have to protect herself from any residual emotional energy, and that was something she was not looking forward to. As expected, everyone picked uncomfortably at their food as they listened to Mona’s perspective of the fight at Breezemaple. The entire Gaelen family struggled noticeably during the part of the story where Dragon got blasted out of the classroom window. A flutter of rage rose in Amika’s tight chest the moment Azric stirred from his silent daze and clenched the fork in his hand. “Please know that I did not intentionally mean to hurt her. I would never …” His projected emotional state intruded once more. Empathy at its worst.
Aideen turned to the irritated dragon, a fire in her eyes. “Can I be honest, Azric?” Azric froze in place. He hesitated to meet Aideen’s gaze. “I am going to say something that may not sound very nice, but what I have to say, I need you to please hear and understand, okay?” Oh, no. Here it comes … Amika clenched the polished plank of her seat to brace herself. “Dragon tried hard to fit in at school. She has the sweetest heart and would never hurt anyone. Anyone. You understand?” Amika’s stomach sank as a wave of Carrick's anger mixed with Dragon's tumult of shame and sadness flooded into her thoughts. A memory of the distress at the clinic in Fae City surged an overwhelming sense of anxiety within her. Would she be able to withstand the emotional onslaught? Amika caught herself mirroring Azric’s reactions as if his emotional hold on her was puppeteering her every move. Their jaws tightened simultaneously, as an uncontrollable urge to flee rattled behind their composed exteriors. To break free from his emotional grip, Amika forced herself to look at the ground, frightened by the grasp his emotions had over her. “For some reason, you and that same ‘friend’ whom you claim to have defended Dragon against have terrorized her at school almost every day. Terrorized her. Do you understand that?” Aideen pressed. Panic and anger flared up in Amika’s gut as she flashed into Azric’s perspective of the memories that raced through her mind at the mere mention of the word terrorized—she caught distinct images of Dragon hunched over her desk, crying in the hidden shelter of her arms. These flashes are from his memories. They are not my thoughts, she repeated to herself, trying to coach herself through her anxiety. “But I never terrorized …” Azric argued defensively.
Echoes of Azric’s laughter pulsed inside Amika’s thoughts, paired with the cruel words Kora used to batter down an already defeated Dragon. His guilt overrode his words, offering Amika a silent view of the truth. Amika recoiled from the disturbing images and fought to mentally separate herself from his enmeshed thoughts. Carrick stood and pounded his fist on the table. “This is the moment when you listen, you hear me?” The intensity of his impatience with Azric’s audacity to interrupt his wife was apparent by the growl in his voice. Despite Amika’s urge to flee the scene, she was pinned to her place at the table—frozen and fixed on the conversation in front of her. Aideen’s cheeks flared red and the cool blue of her eyes stormed over with a wild anger. Amika had to look away the moment a wave of unsettling shivers moved through her body. She had never witnessed this much upset in the Gaelen household, and it was making her physically uncomfortable. “Dragon never deserved any of that. She has no dragon family. She has us.” Aideen gestured around the table. “And she hoped …” Angry tears pooled in the corners of Aideen’s eyes and her voice quivered. “She hoped that once she found her kind that she would finally feel like she belonged.” Amika’s gaze flicked toward Azric when a single tear ran down Aideen’s cheek. He was doing everything he could to avoid everyone’s angry stares and shifted uncomfortably in the hot seat. A flood of comforting energy offered an almost immediate relief from the argument. Amika assumed her system was getting so overwhelmed it was going into autopilot shut down for self-preservation. “Do you understand how much hope she had about that? To belong?” Aideen continued, wiping the tears from her eyes. “Can you grasp how all of that mistreatment hurt her? I mean, really grasp that?” Carrick piped in to support his wife, “Gnomes are generally understanding. We are, it’s true. Almost to a fault. In most situations, we typically embrace the concept of forgiveness with open hearts.” Carrick
closed his eyes and steadied his breathing. “Because even if you live to be six hundred, life is still too short for that kind of anger to eat you up. We do not want that at this table. Not in this house. Not on my land.” Carrick’s eyes fluttered open. Amika could tell by his intentional gaze that he was sizing Azric up, determining if he had it in him to measure up. “You say you are here to right your wrongs, that you are promising to never harm her in any way like before?” Carrick’s eyebrow rose with skepticism. “Prove your words with actual action, son. Otherwise, everything you've said here, to all of us, is a lie.” He leaned in closer to Azric, making sure the arrogant dragon understood the gravity of the situation. “And I will not be having deceit with any meal at my table.” Carrick sat back down and let the magnitude of his words set in. He locked eyes with Azric- a silent challenge for respect passed between them. “Do not take lightly that we allow you here at this table to share a meal. Do not take for granted the generosity we offer when we give you a chance to do what you say you want to attempt. Do not take any of this for granted. It seems you have already come too far in life taking too many precious things for granted.” Amika, still trapped in mirroring Azric’s responses, flinched away from the conversation. Her throat clenched tight in response to all of Azric’s unspoken words and defenses trapped in a suffocating silence. The air at the table was tense and scant of resolution. Too many uncomfortable moments passed before Carrick was able to reclaim a tone of compassion. “If you can do that, if you can back your promises with action, then we can all move forward.” Carrick pushed his plate away; his appetite was clearly wasted on the stress of the conversation. “For some reason, Dragon looks up to you. You better give her good reason to.” Azric choked back a sob. “I—I promise. From here on out.” Carrick wiped his face with his napkin and stood up to excuse himself from the table. “I’m going to take Aideen inside so we can get some
quiet time. When we return, we will all head up to the cave to check on Dragon. Understood?” Azric bowed his head once in submission and agreement. There was no backing out now. Amika lingered behind Annalene as Aideen knocked on the door of Dragon's cave. She wanted nothing more than to leave at that moment, but due to the intense conversation they had over lunch, she felt compelled to stay and honor Carrick's words. Although she hadn’t caused any harm, she feared leaving might stir up more turmoil. To distract herself from what she anticipated would be an unbearable conflict, she stared into the surrounding bushes, dazed, taking in the details of each leaf. With both dragons in such a confined space, Amika was unsure how challenging it would be to be near them. Just as Amika had feared, it didn’t take long for the dragons’ emotions to breach her sensitive barriers. Embarrassment and insecurity flooded her when Azric made his entrance. A sudden surge of guilt stabbed at Amika’s gut, mixed with Dragon's flustered feelings of confusion and excitement that he was in her home. Amika was grateful Carrick and Aideen had balanced their emotions in front of Dragon, ensuring she couldn’t sense that anything was wrong. Annalene, on the other hand, was struggling. Amika could tell she was holding back her feelings to avoid stepping on Azric’s toes in retaliation for what he had done to her sister. Annalene tugged Amika toward the door to offer a greeting and provide backup support. Immediately, Amika felt a barrage of intense jealousy directed at her, and she recognized it was coming from Dragon.
Only moments after offering her forced, feeble wave hello, a sickening stirring in Amika’s stomach developed into an immediate need to wretch outside. Helpless and vulnerable, she raced outside and attempted to force these feelings from her body with each dry heave; waves of unwelcome guilt and shame churned with a strange blend of anxious, amorous affection. Annalene broke away from the crowd and rushed over. “Hey. Are you okay?” Amika held back another dry heave and wiped her mouth with the back of her sleeve. “I think I need to head down to the house for a bit. I’m sorry. I wasn’t sure how this would turn out. The emotions are intense in there and I can’t seem to shield myself from it.” Azric joined them on the gnome-fashioned front steps of the cave. Amika’s knees buckled as if she had been pushed over by an unseen force; the closer Azric got to Amika, the more his projected emotions intensified. Her whole body ached and tremored in response to the infiltration. “Can you get him away from me, please?” Amika urged. Azric stepped back, stung by her words. “What’s her problem?” he growled defensively. Carrick called out from inside Dragon’s bedroom, pulling Annalene's attention away from the confrontation. “What did you say, Da?” Annalene shouted angrily past Azric. “He wants us to set up for dinner,” Azric replied, shaking his body and stretching his wings in an attempt to relieve his visible discomfort. His sharp talons clacked against the exposed roots and rocks as he paced in front of them. Carrick rushed out of Dragon's room in response to his daughter's call. “Hey! Is she okay? What’s going on out here?” Amika weakly wiped beads of sweat from her pale face.
Annalene took charge and grabbed her friend's hand to help guide her down the hill. “She needs to lie down. We need to get her back to the house immediately.” Carrick directed Azric toward the woods, away from the girls. “How about you help gather some firewood?” He sized Azric up with a glance. “Also, grab some stumps for the three of you to sit on. I’m afraid our seats at the table may not accommodate your size and Dragon will need something to prop her injured leg on.” Azric trudged away sullenly, snapping branches in his hands as he worked his way deeper into the wooded area of the Gaelens’ property. Amika felt her nausea lessen with each step Azric took away from them. “I think I’ll be okay if I keep my distance from those two,” she said, gripping her aching stomach and carefully following Annalene down the hill toward the house. Amika had to force several bites of food down to mask the nasty taste of bile that repeatedly rose to her throat. Even keeping her distance from the pair of emotional dragons, Amika was unable to bridle her sensitivity. The whole evening offended Amika’s senses, from passive-aggressive gnomes struggling to play nice with Azric who, up to this point, had been a threat to their adopted daughter to Annalene’s overly eager-to-please smothering her. Amika just could not relax in such a distressing environment. Amika felt terrible that she couldn’t just enjoy a nice meal with her favorite family. She attempted another bite. More bile. She set her fork down and stared at her food, defeated. Discouraged, she attempted to shift her focus away from eating and listen in on the
conversation around her. Amika kept an eye on all three of the dragons, anticipating that something overwhelming could happen during the conversation. She was doing fairly well up until Mona chimed in with horrific details of what had happened at Breezemaple regarding the fight that had broken out. Caustic smoke. Blazing flames. Screaming students. “Agghhhh!” Amika cried out. Distressing images surged through her mind like a turbulent storm. Her breathing quickened, each gasp laden with a mixture of fear and pain. Annalene, startled by the desperate plea, abruptly abandoned her half-eaten plate and rushed to Amika’s side. Azric, taken aback yet unable to mask his curiosity, gawked rudely. “What’s wrong with her?” he blurted. Annalene shot him a venomous look, her brows furrowing in irritation. “She’s just sensitive to …” The words caught in her throat as she realized the weight of the revelation. “Can I tell him?” Amika, overwhelmed and trembling, buried her head in Annalene’s shoulder, seeking refuge from the onslaught that harassed her mind. “I don’t care,” she murmured, her voice muffled yet filled with urgency, “just make it stop.” Carrick piped in, “Let’s just say that when you tell these stories, Mona,”—he shot a warning look up at the dragon—"she has this way of seeing it if she were there herself. It’s kind of her gift.” Amika pulled her knees to her chest and groaned. “No way this is a gift. More like a curse.” “Are you okay now?” Mona offered her genuine concern. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know it would affect you like that. I’ll stop talking about all of that stuff.”
Amika hunched over, feeling nearly defeated by the entire day. “I think it’s over. Just be ...” Amika clutched her head in her hands. “Be sensitive about what you’re wanting to share about your experiences. I know it’s important to talk about. I’m just having a hard time with some of it, okay?” “Okay, hon. Just let us know if you need anything,” Aideen said, her brow furrowed with concern. Everyone gradually returned to their plates and tensely picked away at the rest of their meal. Amika finally got the nerve to try another bite of food when Annalene broke the awkward silence by addressing Azric directly. Apparently, she could not let her bitterness go long enough to finish the meal. “So, I guess you’ve heard what everyone’s been saying about dragons? You kind of ruined everything,” Annalene snapped. That last bit of unexpected, unleashed energy sent Amika into convulsions. Her eyes rolled back in her head and a vision flashed in her mind’s eye. A shadowy, inky-like substance was attached to Azric. It became aware of Amika’s presence and rushed at her. A burst of electric static filled Amika’s ears as a fierce wave of intrusive thoughts swarmed through her exposed mind. Azric’s bottled-up self-hatred shrouded Amika’s emotional state as she fought to separate herself from his unmanageable panic and anger. She struggled with the aggressive mental visuals that accompanied the attack—onyx-flamed tentacles reached through her defenses to force her into submission. A burst of electric static filled Amika’s ears as a fierce wave of intrusive thoughts swarmed through her exposed mind each time a tentacle attached itself to her. Gasping for breath, Amika was reduced to tears as she attempted to fight off the violent internal attack.
Amika came to momentarily and stared blankly at the table as Annalene waved her hand frantically in front of her face. “Amika. Amika! What’s going on? Da! Her eyes are completely glazed over.” Lost to Annalene’s concerned calls, Amika heard only garbled shouts as she steadied her focus on not succumbing to the attack. Feeling too close to the edge of defeat, Amika suddenly and miraculously found herself surrounded by a mentally forged protective bubble. The coloring of this newly acquired shield seemed oddly familiar. A section of the bubble was illuminated with scrolling text in a language familiar, but unknown to her. Vibrant blue light beamed through the words and the orb of protective light pulsed, immediately creating a barrier between her body and the energetic tentacles that sprawled in her direction. The same comforting warmth radiated through her body as her senses became less aggravated. She took several deep, appreciative breaths as she locked eyes with Mona, realizing the astral support was coming from her. “Envision yourself circled with white light,” Mona mind-shared. Amika’s eyes bugged out in shock with the mental transmission. Mona offered a single nod, confirming that she was assisting Amika with her defense. Amika seized Mona’s mental prompt and reinforced the protective bubble around her with spiraling swells of light, extinguishing the invasive inner darkness on impact. Amika noticed that as Azric adjusted his position on the tree stump to sit more comfortably, his mood changed in response. Whatever Mona was doing was having a significant impact, alleviating the mental turmoil that Azric had been struggling with.
Carrick rinsed and washed the dinner plates while Aideen went inside to retrieve the dessert pies she had prepared. Annalene wrapped her arm around Amika's shoulders and helped her carry a stack of dirty dishes over to Carrick. “You’re starting to worry me, Amika. I’ve never seen you like this before.” Amika bent down and patted Solas on the head. He circled protectively around her ankles. He’d stayed close to her ever since the onset of her mental battle. “I’ve never experienced anything like this before, that’s for sure.” As soon as Annalene opened the back door, Aideen greeted them with a stack of pie plates and clean cutlery. Aideen’s dimples deepened as she leaned over and kissed her daughter on the cheek. “Here you go, sweetheart. I’ll be right out with the pies.” Conversation around the campfire cautiously navigated the topic of Breezemaple and the dragon fight. Several moments were difficult for Amika, due to the emotionally charged discussion. The evening gave her plenty of opportunities to practice building her mental shield during the unsettling conversation. Whenever the slightest hint of strong emotions arose, a crackling and hissing noise would echo in her thoughts, like an exposed live wire jolting around inside her head. Amika tried to follow most of the conversation while shielding herself from another potential mental intrusion. She wanted to participate in the discussion, especially when it came time to volunteer her support for Dragon at an official meeting with the school staff at Breezemaple. There was talk about rebuilding the damage that had been done and restoring the reputation of dragons throughout Darragh, and Amika wanted to be involved. As the meeting began to wind down, Amika approached Mona, hoping to discuss everything that had transpired. “That was you helping me, wasn’t it?" she asked.
Mona flashed a wink. “I may have picked up a few tricks from my studies.” “How did you do that? I mean, you mind-shared. I thought dragons weren’t capable of doing that?” Mona looked down at her and smiled. “It takes some practice once you figure out how to mind-share. I elected to learn things outside of dragon culture so I could help teach better content at Breezemaple.” Amika’s brow raised in concern. “Teaching? Are you planning on showing your classes how to mind-share?” “No. No. Nothing like that. Not everyone needs to know how to do that. Especially if they are moody and underdeveloped primary-year students. I will focus more on offering a glimpse into the different kinds of creatures that live in Darragh.” Amika sighed in relief. “That’s good. It’s intense for me, and I’m the one with the gift.” “So, how are classes so far this year?” Mona jumped in, steering the conversation toward something lighter. Amika smiled sheepishly. “I’ve missed several days. It’s been a long week. Hopefully, I’ll be able to catch up next week after recovering from all of this. I hope my instructor will understand.” “Who are you studying under this term?” Mona asked. “Professor Woodsong.” “Oh, yes, she’s a sweetheart. She will be lenient on you about all of this. I know her personally. I can even put in a good word for you if you’d like?” Amika flashed a weak, grateful smile, her eyes shimmering with a hint of relief. She glanced at Mona, unsure if she realized that she had a close connection with the professor. Nevertheless, the offer of extra help felt like a lifeline. “I’d really appreciate that,” she replied. “I’d hate to get in trouble so early in the term.”
Carrick walked over and offered an apologetic bow. “I don’t mean to interrupt you ladies, but I wanted to ask if any of you would care to stay the night. It’s a little late for you to be running around the woods.” Amika’s exhaustion felt as heavy as a blanket of boulders. She nodded gingerly, ready for some shut-eye. “We'll pass,” Mona replied. “Azric and I have a long conversation we need to have, so the trip back will be the perfect time to discuss some things.” “You two fly safe,” he said, nodding goodbye before returning to the cozy gnome house. “I'll go fix up your bed then, Amika.” Amika yawned, retreating a few steps toward the back door. “Thank you again, Mona. I don’t like feeling all these emotions; it's too intense. I needed that help back there.” “It was my pleasure, Amika. Anytime you need my help, just let me know.”
VI Amika stretched and stepped onto the Gaelens’ back porch in her bare feet. She cradled a warm cup of tea in her hands and carefully adjusted the bottom of her pajama pants so they could better cover her exposed toes in the dewy blades of overgrown grass. Breathing in the cool morning air, she admired the pristine pockets of lush garden that encircled the dining and fire pit areas of the Gaelens’ backyard. Amika felt calm and centered—a welcomed relief to the unsettled tension that had built up in her body from all of the stress of recent events. As she took another sip of the warm, floral brew in her cup, she felt a sudden sense of hope bloom inside her quiet heart. A twinge of unexpected joy and promise she couldn’t quite pinpoint. It reminded her of the same feeling she got watching the sunrise from her rooftop garden—a feeling that evoked a sense that anything was possible. It took her aback as she pondered what could possibly stir such a feeling after a night of overwhelming inner turmoil. Whatever the source of this magical sense of hope was, she welcomed it with a smile. Amika knew she would be traveling with Carrick, Annalene, and Dragon to Breezemaple to speak with the Elders about Dragon’s idea, which she had yet to share with anyone. It was likely Amika was simply sensing Dragon’s excitement about the upcoming trip. Amika scanned the backyard and immediately spotted Dragon sitting in the outdoor dining area next to an unfamiliar drake. A smile spread across Amika’s face as she watched Dragon steal glances at the tall dragon over her half-eaten breakfast. Amika sensed the warmth she was feeling might be connected to the soft blush on Dragon's
cheeks—a hint of budding affection developing between the dragons. She decided to attribute her feelings to an effect of her heightened empathic abilities. Dragon seemed engaged in a calm conversation, and from the look in her eyes, something had shifted in Dragon's heart, as if she were beginning to open up more to her new friend. Amika was starting to feel overwhelmed by her ability to sense the emotions of those around her. The memory of Azric's dark anger still haunted her, nearly sending her spiraling out of control the night before. She was incredibly grateful that Mona had stepped in with extra shielding and the genius idea of an energetic bubble for protection. This newfound tool would be a game changer for her. This latest encounter was far less intense, and the new dragon’s temperament was a breath of fresh air, but mastering this ability was still a challenge she had to confront head-on. Amika smiled to herself, her gaze drifting dreamily into the distance as fantasies of love danced in her mind. In Fae Colony, she had yet to find anyone who caught her eye, but her heart clung to the possibility of sparks flying one day. What would love feel like? She could only imagine, but the idea sent a jolt of excitement through her. Earthy flavors burst in her mouth as Amika quickly washed down a plateful of veggie hash with a swig of berry juice. “Aideen will surely spoil you with greens, Solas. Don’t get into too much trouble.” With a playful grin, she tucked her dirty dishes into the quaint windowsill kitchen nook, waved goodbye to Solas, and hopped eagerly into the passenger seat next to Carrick. Carrick blew a kiss to Aideen and gave the reins a quick tug and they were off.
The day was bright and cheerful, a good omen for things to come. Amika lost herself in the woods as she took in the beauty around her, focusing on the hypnotic line of thin- and thick-trunked trees that followed the curve of the winding path. Goldenrod, crimson, and flame orange leaves blazed above their heads, captivating her attention. Carrick hummed a cheerful tune and directed the squirrels as they huffed in unison along the winding, dirt path and headed straight for Amika's beloved trail near Crescent Call River. Cool water lapped at the tumbled river stone shoreline and almond-shaped leaves cascaded from bowed branches like sunrise colored snowfall. The caravan headed north, away from the river trail that snaked through the heart of the Rosemist Mountains. Birdsong complimented the syncopated beat of the squirrels’ feet as their tiny claws clicked against the worn wooden planks of the covered bridge. The poor squirrels had to double their efforts as they tugged the covered flatbed trailer up two switchbacks before the trail flattened out on the outskirts of the expansive, well-manicured grounds of Breezemaple campus. Annalene popped her head out from inside the covered wagon and tugged at Amika's sleeve as they came to a stop in front of the South End entrance. “Whoa, this place is amazing.” Carrick took the reins and began the challenging task of tying up an entire team of twelve worker squirrels to a nearby tree. “You all go ahead. I'll catch up shortly.” A small flock of birds zipped around in the brown smoky haze and collected beakfuls of twigs and long grasses, busy with the task of rebuilding their damaged nests. “I’ve only been here a couple of times. Once during my school orientation tour and the other was when we had to move our Will-o’-the-wisps History class here temporarily while they were doing grounds work at the conservatory. I’m supposed to help Mona in her class
next quarter. Well, if things go back to normal by then,” Amika said, staring up at the massive white stone façade of the building. “This place is so different from my school,” Annalene marveled as she gazed up at the ornate architecture in complete awe. “I mean, nothing compares to an entire campus built into actual trees, but this is pretty cool.” The structures soared majestically, their facades adorned with delicate carvings and vibrant stained glass. “And this staircase by itself is larger than any classroom in my entire school.” Amika waved Annalene toward the steps of the entrance. “Just wait until you see inside.” The girls chatted, their spirits bright and hopeful, as they walked up the small built-in staircase toward the tiny entrance for smaller students. Annalene could hardly contain her excitement. “This is so cool!” Amika pulled the carved oak door open and they stepped into the dark building. They let their eyes adjust before searching for the interior map of the campus on a nearby wall. They hopped onto an aerial lift, the preferred way for smaller enchanted folk to navigate the massive, worn tapestry of the map. Amika jostled the controls like a true novice; the device jerked up and down as the gears made an unnatural grinding sound. They each scanned through the fancy font of the large textile to find the designated meeting place. “I think Mona said the meeting was being held in the auditorium over there.” Annalene pointed to an area located in the South End of the aerial view map. Annalene clung nervously to the railing of the moving contraption as Amika attempted to lower them to the ground. “Do we need to check in at the office or something?” Annalene sighed a little too loudly in relief when they touched down. “My school has pretty strict rules about visitors needing to sign in.”
They hopped off the lift and headed down the dim hallway toward the administrative office. “I’m pretty sure the campus is closed. I don’t think anyone would be there to check us in even if we went,” Amika said, coughing into her sleeve. The further they walked, the stronger the overpowering damp, smoky smell got. A low murmuring of indistinct talking caught their attention from the centrally located hive of administrative offices. Amika shot a glance at Annalene. “Maybe we should check?” Hesitant to reveal their presence, Amika and Annalene peeked inconspicuously through one of the office doors that had been left ajar. Only a handful of staff were inside the cramped office, some idly filing papers and tending to other mundane administrative tasks. The designated Breezemaple Oracle, a shapely, blue-skinned female with mist-colored hair, was stationed at a large desk, tasked with taking incoming telepathic inquiries of the status of the campus. Her glowing, ice-blue eyes, focused on her incoming mental transmissions, looked quite tired as she telepathically offered outgoing scripted responses to unknown addresses. Amika shrugged in a moment of hesitance. “They look busy. I’m sure the elders will alert them once we get to the meeting?” Unsure if alerting anyone of their presence would be more harm than good, they decided to bypass the sign-in. Amika glanced at the blocked-off hallway to the West End, debating whether or not to take a quick detour to check out the damage. Annalene cackled up at a series of intricately woven tapestries on the wall. “Speaking of elders, get a load of those.” Amika paused her exploratory planning and wandered over to examine the portraits of historical Darragh figureheads, each at least ten times their size, hanging on the stone walls leading to the North End. Amika had to stifle a laugh when she saw the image of the professor of ogre history. He held an awkward pose, probably due to being
uncomfortably stuffed into his high-collared jacket and eccentric vest; the accented bulge of his bulbous eyes also hinted his thick neck was being choked by the ruffles of his tacky shirt. The only somewhat distinguished-looking thing about the ogre was how his graying hair was precisely slicked back behind his pointed, warty ears, and his beard was pleasantly groomed into a triple braid. “Wow. She’s beautiful.” Annalene gawked at the portrait in the middle. An image of a female sylph, who was titled professor of Enchanted Arts, was elegantly dressed in an evening gown the color of night, which draped around her body like thick sheets of rain as if swathed in a broody thunderstorm. Next to the professor was the pretentious-looking cyclopes who posed as interim professor of Social Theory of the Colonies. “I wonder how old these are.” Amika frowned at the cyclops’s image and shook her head in disgust at the snide look on his face. “Or if any of these professors still teach here. I’d hate to land in this guy’s class.” She pointed out his silly twirled mustache, a feature that made him look more ridiculous than professional. “Whoa. Nice hat.” Annalene admired the sleek top hat that crowned his shiny, bald head, accented at the band with a fine, golden plume. Amika grinned as she turned her attention to the cherub-cheeked representative from Gnome Colony. “Look at Elder Greenwood. He looks so young.” In his portrait, he was positioned as professor of wood and stone crafts. Squat in his demeanor and dressed in a sophisticated earth-toned pinstripe waistcoat, he wore a simple tweed cap that tipped over his bushy white eyebrows, with a bowtie to match. Annalene leaned in to examine the engraved plate at the base of the framed portrait. “Wow. Temkus? I had no idea that was his first name. He
must be only in his early two-eighties in this picture. Not even an elder yet. Amazing.” She stepped back to take the whole image in. “I wonder if that’s how old all of these portraits are?” Amika shifted positions, her eyes still locked on the cyclops’s face. Something about that particular professor bothered her, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on what exactly. Annalene nudged Amika to pull her out of her trance. “We should probably get going. I’m sure they’ve started already.” “Right,” Amika agreed, finally peeling her eyes from the wall. As the girls listened to the conversation drifting from the open auditorium doors, they realized the group was still waiting for several representatives to arrive. They peeked into the doorway, straining to see over the tiered rows of empty seats. Grimacing, they covered their noses to block out the musty, damp smell lingering in the fire-damaged meeting hall. The charred school banner clung to the stage’s border for dear life, threatening to tumble down at any moment. The representative of the dragon colony was busy recruiting the help of the elder from the cyclopes colony to help him readjust it to near former shape. The speaker’s podium had been pushed stage left near the refreshments table, where several of the guests busied themselves with filling their plates. The representative from the ogre colony was especially delighted in the provision of snacks—she crunched loudly, grunting and wheezing between mouthfuls. Uniform chairs had been set around the perimeter of a lightweight rectangular table, which served as appropriate seating for some of the council members more than others. The smaller folk were forced to either perch on
the arms of a chair or sit cross-legged on the tabletop itself. Most of the larger guests were better off standing, otherwise, they had to somehow restrain their gluttonous body parts to restrictive frames of the unforgiving seats. Annalene chuckled when she saw only a pair of wily eyebrows poking over the top edge of the table, the only visible evidence that a female troll was in attendance. Several of the guests were flipping through their textbooks, focused on preparing class lectures while they waited, others passively sipped on their drinks in a bored daze. The entire setup demonstrated that no major accommodations could be made for the impromptu meeting and anyone in attendance would just have to make due. Finding no evidence of their friends in the auditorium, Amika made a recommendation, “How about we go explore some more?” “What if we miss something important?” Annalene asserted. “Well, we don’t have to take too long. I wanted to check out something while we are here.” Annalene raised an eyebrow. “Okay?” “I want to see if …” A hearty laugh onstage caught Amika’s attention. Her breath caught in her throat and a flutter of excitement somersaulted in her stomach the moment she saw him: A ruggedly handsome centaur with amber eyes stood center stage and immediately drew her in. The low candlelight of the candelabras positioned in each corner of the table gave his eyes a golden, honey glow. His pristine goatee framed his dimpled smile, and every time he erupted into a burst of laughter, Amika felt something light up inside of her. It was the same sensation she got any time she gazed up at a full moon on a clear night from her rooftop garden like her heart suddenly bloomed open without hesitation. He wore a linen, cap-sleeved collared tunic that clung nicely to the muscular build of his human torso. The brushed coat of his lower half was a deep chestnut brown, freckled with white spotting, and his
tail had the same cinnamon coloring as the triple French-braided plaits that were pulled into a half-bun at the back of his head. A rush moved through her body when she gazed into his eyes like a constellation of stars had taken flight across the center of her heart. Something about his presence felt like home, but not a home she had ever been to—he was familiar and offered a deep sense of belonging to a place within her she never knew existed. He stood confident amongst his peers, completely unaware of the effect he had on her, and all she could do was shine. She felt electric like the moment right before a clap of lightning touched ground in a wild thunderstorm. It didn't matter that she didn't have wings because she surely was soaring at the sight of him. Amika ducked down behind the nearest seat the second he looked out toward the double doors behind her. She knew he couldn’t see her in the shadows of the auditorium, but something in the way he looked in her direction seemed like he was looking for something. She felt urged to go to him. What she would say, she had no clue. Annalene waved a hand in front of Amika’s face. “What’s with you?” Annalene's voice sounded muffled and far away. She followed Amika’s gaze and chuckled a little too loud. “Oh. Ohhhhhh. I see.” “Shush! He’ll hear you.” “Who? That centaur right there?” Annalene teased and pointed at the stage. Amika clapped a hand over Annalene's mouth, muffling her fit of giggles. “I swear to the stars, Annalene.” “Oh, come on. What can he do? Rush down here and—” “Who is that?” Amika whispered, unable to take her starry eyes off of him. She felt all sorts of giggly as if she had just finished a cup of fizzy, fermented berry juice. “I dunno. Some man-horse. I mean, I can see the appeal. Look at those biceps.”
A hint of jealousy bit at Amika. “Annalene!” “What? Only you can gawk at that cute guy? That's hardly fair. He doesn't belong to you.” Amika’s mouth pulled into an impish grin. “Not yet, at least.” “Wow. Really? That’s bold. You don’t even know the guy,” Annalene said, gesturing to the doors. “I thought you said you wanted to explore, but I guess he’s what you really want to check out while you’re here, eh?” Annalene joked. Amika crinkled up her nose at Annalene’s cheesy joke. “Oh, stop it. No. There was something else I wanted to see. But that …” Amika turned her attention back to the centaur. “That right there gives me plenty of reason to hurry back.” “Amika!” Annalene blushed, embarrassed by her friend’s blatant attraction to the stranger. “What?’ Amika grinned mischievously. “I’ve just never heard you talk about a guy like that.” Amika shrugged. “I’ve never met anyone worth talking about.” “Really? Not a single fae in Fae Colony?” Annalene asked, surprised. “Not really. At least no one at the Conservatory so far.” “Is your uncle on his way, Larak?” The impatient dragon elder addressed the young lad, pulling the girls’ attention to their conversation. “Larak …” Amika echoed, a little louder than she intended. Larak peered out over the auditorium seats to see who had called his name. “Sugarsnaps!” Amika cursed and quickly ducked. She pulled Annalene to the ground with her, keeping them both out of his sight. “He heard you,” Annalene whisper-giggled. “Shh! He’s still looking this way,” Amika whispered, cupping a hand over Annalene’s mouth and signaling for them to crawl backward out of the
auditorium entrance. Once they were safely outside, they stood up and hurried down the hallway, away from the gathering, giggling excitedly. Amika left Annalane to her giggles and wandered near a large staircase that led to the North End Tower. Similar to the south entrance staircase, there was a designated set of tiny stairs built into the stringer on the far-right edge of the stairwell. A mere hop away from bounding up the stairs, Amika froze in her tracks when a sudden buzzing sensation sounded off inside her head, causing her to stumble backward. She panicked momentarily before remembering to wield her mental cloak. “Oh, no. Here they come.” “White bubble of protective light surrounds me,” she thought to herself and visualized a protective mental fortress just in time as the two dragons passed by, unaware of her presence. The chaotic vibrations emitted from the dragons’ conflict that once jangled her nerves gave way to an immediate, profound stillness, allowing her to breathe deeply and find solace within herself. “Whew. I am so glad Mona showed me how to do that,” she said to herself, swiveling around to look for Annalene. Amika flashed a mischievous grin, her determination rekindled as she approached the tower staircase with renewed vigor. “Annalene,” Amika called over to her friend. “Do you want to go see what happened to the West End of campus?” She waited and hoped Annalene would consider the idea. “Oh. Um.” Annalene tapped her dimpled chin, taking a brief moment to think it through. “Well, wouldn’t that be dangerous? I mean, there could be all sorts of hazardous waste around that area, right?” “You’re right.” Amika clapped a hand on her friend’s shoulder and gently steered her around to the base of the winding staircase. “That’s why I say we take a look from above it, not in it.”
“Oh.” Annalene gasped and followed the stairs upward with her gaze, the realization of what Amika was hinting at seemed to finally be sinking in. “You mean …” “The tower will give us a perfect view.” She took Annalene’s hand and tugged at her to join her on the stairs and offered an assuring glance backward. “Come on. Just for a little bit? Aren’t you even curious to see what happened?” “I wouldn’t say curious …” Annalene faded off and took a step backward. She gazed upward at the spiraling staircase once more and chewed on her lip. “I dunno. Won’t we get caught?” Amika could tell Annalene was extremely interested, but it seemed her cautious side was overruling. “If we hurry, we won’t be there long enough to get caught,” Amika pressed, taking her first step up the smaller staircase. “Before anyone else heads down this way to the meeting?” Annalene stood cross-armed at the base of the stairs, unwilling to give in. “Okay, well, fine. I’ll see you back in the auditorium in a bit,” Amika said, determined to go by herself if need be. She ascended the staircase, three stairs at a time, eager to see what the damage looked like from the top of the tower. Amika halted in her tracks when she heard the labored huffing up the stairs behind her. “Hold on! Wait! I’m coming, okay?” Annalene called. Amika uttered an audible sigh of relief when the stairwell finally leveled out at the tower’s peak. They collapsed on the floor in a heap of exhaustion. Staring up at the vaulted tower ceiling from her spot on the floor, Amika slowly caught her breath as she admired the design and handiwork of the octagonal roof and oriel windows that offered a glorious view of the campus grounds. “This is when I wish I was normal-sized.”
Annalene sat up after steadying her own breathing, a devilish grin flashed across her face. “I’m sure being centaur-sized wouldn’t hurt.” Amika swatted at her friend and burst into laughter. “I’m not wrong,” Annalene teased, laughing. Amika shook her head and tried to stifle a laugh. “Ooh, I almost forgot.” Annalene quickly dug around in her broom skirt pockets for a moment before pulling out a handmade drawstring cloth sack. Amika grunted and pulled herself back up to a comfortable sitting posture. “What’s that?” Annalene playfully swung the cloth pouch back and forth. “Snacks, of course.” She tugged on the bunched fabric at the top to loosen the opening and reached her chubby in, grabbing a handful of dried fruits, edible seeds, and crunchy crumbles of sweetened millet biscuits. Amika chuckled and shook her head. “What?” Annalene said between mouthfuls. “I have to refuel after that climb.” A large boulder, which had been intricately carved on both sides to look like two benches propped back-to-back, caught Amika’s eye. She walked toward the mirror-seated bench and ran her hand across the smooth carvings at the base of one of the legs. Her breath caught in her chest as she took in the elaborate designs. “This is so beautiful.” “Oh my gosh! Amika! Come look.” Amika pivoted around and found Annalene halfway up a small viewing ladder at the western-faced overlook, peering over the edge. Amika climbed up to join and scanned the demolished grounds. They both had to cover their faces with their sleeve. The same electric toxic fumes were overpowering. Amika clapped a hand over her mouth, completely horrified. “Oh, no …”
No wonder that area had been deemed restricted and roped off, over half of the west campus was in ruins. They gaped at the burnt, half-crumbled western wall; the surrounding buildings that attempted to support the remnants of their caved-in roofs were scarred with explosive blast marks. Wind whipped through broken window frames, and the stone paths were riddled with shiny specks of glass and impossibly sharp shards of wood. Mounds of the demolished building and charred debris, including an occasional smashed desk or waterlogged bookshelf, were scattered haphazardly across the campus lawn like some unfortunate brand of confetti. A toxic band of litter floated among a school of lifeless freshwater fish in the polluted waves of Sapphire Sands Lake. Annalene shook her fist, which was stuffed full of snack mix, directing Amika’s attention toward the devastation across the lake. A trail had been scorched through woodlands, forking up the mountain base like poisoned veins of destruction. Luckily, the rainstorm had kept the fire from devouring the entire southern face of the mountain range. Annalene lost her grip on the snack pouch, and it tumbled to the ruined grounds below. A satyr, who was busy clearing up the area, pulled the protective mask from his face and shouted up at them while dusting off the snack mix that had fallen on top of his head. “Hey! Who’s up there!” Amika and Annalene shot backward out of sight and slowly crept away from the overlook, careful not to make any additional commotion. “We’ve got to get out of here,” Amika whisper-shouted at Annalene and tugged her arm toward the direction of the stairs. They scampered past the carved bench and down the stairs as fast as their tiny legs could carry them. Both girls screeched to a halt at the base of the stairs when they caught sight of the sour look on Carrick’s face. “Where have you two been?
I’ve been looking for you everywhere. The meeting started without us,” he said impatiently, thumbing in the direction of the auditorium. Amika and Annalene exchanged a guilty look. “I’m sorry, Carrick. It was my fault,” Amika said, absorbing the blame. “I brought Annalene with me to check out the damage over in the West End.” His eyebrows shot up. “The West End? That’s completely unacceptable. You could have been hurt! What were you thinking?” Annalene sulked. “I know. I know. I’m sorry, Da. But if it helps, we were in the tower, so we wouldn’t get hurt wandering around …” He pulled her in for a protective hug, cutting her off. “Don’t do that again, Annalene!” “I’m sorry,” Annalene said, averting his gaze. “I promise to not run off like that again.” He sucked in a deep breath and pulled Annalene closer to inspect her for any sign of harm. “You scared me! I had no idea where you had gone.” Carrick grabbed both of the girls by the hands and headed toward the auditorium doorway. “Come on. Let’s go see how we can support Dragon with her idea to change all of this. It’s the best we can do to help.”
VII Amika quickly surrounded herself with her protective mental defense before entering the auditorium. She waved at Dragon to indicate she had arrived when Carrick abruptly stopped her, raising his hand to signal her to wait in the back. The meeting had escalated into an argument among several faculty members, and he gestured for her to hold off until things calmed down before trying to join Dragon and Azric. A grizzly-looking centaur, whose fierce eyes twinkled with power-hungry desire, sat across from Larak. The centaurian elder combed his fingers through the moonlight-colored streaks in his bushy facial hair as he chided Larak for speaking out of turn. Temper flaring, the angry elder’s saggy jowls shook with rage as he defended himself. Amika sensed something very foul in him, similar to the way the portrait of the cyclopes tugged at her conscience. She watched and expected Larak to cower with such vicious words being slung at him, but to Amika’s delight, Larak stood his ground beautifully. An unfamiliar, yet pleasant, sensation coursed through Amika’s body as she watched Larak like an electric jolt rushing through her core tracked outward toward her tingling fingertips. She found herself lost in the depths of his gaze, where secrets seemed to swirl in the honey glow of his eyes. Each moment felt suspended in time as if the air itself thickened with unspoken words. She could hardly believe how drawn she was to him, how every smile and every subtle movement ignited a spark in her heart. Amika’s body buzzed with giddy delight when he glanced in her direction. His effect on her made her want to laugh and sing out at the same time. She watched him, fascinated;
his unwavering confidence, which didn’t come across as boastful or cocky, easily ensnared her. “As I was saying. What I believe Uncle is trying to say is …” Amika’s stomach lurched. They were related. Her eyes flicked from Larak to his uncle, trying to calculate how in the world they could have anything in common with each other, especially a blood tie. The centaurian elder presented himself as someone who was calculated around his callousness, hard-pressed to bring anyone around him to their knees. She returned her focus to Larak, searching his face for answers. The closer she examined them, certain features started to stand out. Their cheekbones. There was something about their eyes—the same honey color. Something intuitive clicked the longer she compared the two as if she was picking up an unseen story around the mystery in their connection. The discussion on stage droned on as Amika stepped forward to get a closer look. CRACKLE. HISS. WHOMP! Amika hit the floor on all fours. She whimpered in pain, clutching her head in her hands. Annalene rushed over to help her friend up. “Are you okay?” The intensity of the blast weakened as soon as Amika retreated behind a doubled-up mental cloak. Her head throbbed with a muted, buzzing sound. “Jeez. That was worse than Azric. What was that?” At the mention of his name, Azric flashed a disapproving scowl down at Amika. “Cut it out, you two! This is an important meeting.” “This is an important meeting,” Annalene mocked under her breath. “If you would get a hold of your emotions, maybe my friend wouldn’t be having so much trouble,” she whisper-shouted at Azric in an accusing tone.
“Just ignore him.” Annalene turned her back to him and helped pull Amika up to her feet. “Ugh. There has to be a way to make him stop that.” Annalene scowled at Azric, who was busy defending himself to the group of elders. “It wasn’t Azric this time. That was way too powerful. Even with Dragon right next to him,” Amika said, rubbing her temples. “Well, what was that then?” Amika grimaced and the brunt of the attack slowly dissipated. “I’m not sure.” She smiled at Annalene sheepishly. “I was too busy looking at Larak and got distracted.” Annalene shook her head and stifled a laugh. The girls watched from a distance as the conversation on stage got heated again. Amika retraced her steps, trying to recall what had happened before the zap. “Annalene. I’m going to try something. To see if I can figure out where that sensation came from.” Annalene shot her an aggravated look. “You want to try to recreate what you just went through? Amika, are you serious? Aren’t you paying attention to what’s happening to you already? You could get seriously hurt.” “Well, just keep an eye on me while I try this. It will only take a second.” Annalene scowled. “I’m supposed to do what exactly if something terrible happens?” “Just trust me. I’ll pull back with a defense Mona taught me, okay?” Annalene crossed her arms over her chest. “Fine,” she grumbled. “Not like I could stop you, anyway.” Amika focused intently on Larak for several seconds. Nothing. “Hmmm. That didn’t seem to work.” She stared again, but his uncle was distracting her with his blabbering. Her eyes darted at the elder. CRACKLE.
Amika quickly glanced down, avoiding looking in the elder’s direction at all. “Whoa.” Annalene stepped in front of Amika, as if doing that would somehow block whatever unseen force was tormenting her friend. “Did you figure it out?” “I think I know who the source is.” Amika slowly lifted her gaze and glanced over at the elder once more. CRACKLE. Amika’s eyes darted back down to the ground. “Yup. I know who it is. It’s not Azric.” Amika stepped behind the closest auditorium chair leg, panting with panic. Annalene scanned the stage. “Well, who is it?” Before Amika could reveal the source of her mental barrage, a low buzzing sound interrupted her thoughts. “What’s that noise?” she said, clutching her head again. She scanned the crowd of elders, searching desperately for the source of the intrusion. The buzzing sound was immediately replaced by a calm, feminine voice. She glanced toward the end of the table and received a single nod from a unicorn sitting at attention. “Permission to connect?” “Granted,” Amika mind-shared her response. Hypnotized by the enchanting voice, Amika’s defenses allowed the mental connection through. “I am Elder Fairmind. I will not hurt you. I am connecting to tell you that you must help Dragon.” A violet light enveloped the elder, casting an ethereal glow that pulsed in harmony with the soothing cadence of her voice. Her melodious words resonated through the air, creating a warm and inviting atmosphere. The vibrant purples and delicate lavenders danced around her, swirling gracefully like sentient beings weaving a tapestry of calming energy. As Amika tuned into the energetic bubble surrounding the elder, she was instantly transported to the sitting nook in her own home. The change in scenery
should have alarmed her, as should the unexpected guest by her side: a beautiful unicorn that had masterfully shrunk itself to fae size, sitting on its haunches and sipping from a cup of tea that was levitating in front of her. “So, this is what a unicorn can do?” Amika remarked. The unicorn whinnied. “You have no idea.” “Why are we here instead of at the school?” “It’s safer this way. Technically, our bodies are still in the auditorium; we just traveled through the In-Between to chat.” As she spoke, the light shimmered and shifted, reflecting the depth of her wisdom. The elder’s presence was reminiscent of all the enchanting moments spent on a perfect Fairweather day—when the sun shone brightly, the sky was crystal-clear blue, and the breeze carried the sweet scent of blooming flowers. The tomes on Amika’s shelf glowed with magical light, revealing that their pages were brimming with adventure, mystery, and magic. Amika wanted to reach for one, but the elder stopped her. “There is something important you must do. Only you can be the one to offer a voice to it.” At that moment, the imaginative world began to fade, and Amika’s eyes fluttered open. She was back in the auditorium, amidst the heated argument on stage. As if in a trance, Amika walked over and tapped on Annalene’s shoulder to get her attention. “I have to say something,” Amika whispered. “What do you mean you have to say something? They won’t listen to you. Look at how they’re treating Azric and Dragon.” “Can you just get your sister’s attention and see if she can lift me up to say something? Please?” Annalene shook her head in confusion. “I have no idea what you’re up to.” She wandered over to Dragon’s ankle and tapped on it. After a series of exchanged words, Dragon crouched down and extended her hand to lift
Amika high enough for the crowd of skeptical elders to see. “What are you going to say?” Before Amika could offer a reply, the loud buzzing sound rang through her head once more, and the same voice gave her recognizable orders: “You must start a planning committee.” She repeated the words to her bickering audience, “We need to start the planning committee now.” Larak turned his full attention to her and smiled as if he hadn’t noticed her presence until that very moment. “A committee to help organize rebuilding the campus,” she explained. The voice came through again, “Offer a plan. They require order. It will help reassure them.” It was as if the words were being forced through her. “What if we met and came up with a rough plan? Would that help you make your decision?” A wave of dizziness hit Amika, causing her to stumble out of her stupor. Coming back to her senses, Amika gestured to Dragon to let her down. “I have to go outside. This is too intense for me. Something’s happening that I can’t quite explain.” Dragon gave her a worried look. “Okay? Will you be alright?” “I don’t feel so well. I’ll see you outside when the meeting’s over, okay? Can you just set me down so I can go get some air?” Dragon gently set Amika next to Annalene before the crowd of decision-makers quickly turned her attention back to the conflict.
“What happened back there?” Annalene demanded. A sudden shift rippled through the atmosphere as if an unseen force had obscured the sun’s brilliance on an otherwise cloudless day. It was a strange and unsettling moment, an eerie dimming of all vibrant colors and sounds, hinting at something unnatural lingering in the air. Amika walked toward the stairs and sat down, avoiding Annalene’s gaze. “I don’t even know how to explain it. Please don’t ask, okay?” Annalene threw her arms up. “Please don’t ask. You’re kidding me, right?” Amika couldn’t hold back the bite in her tone, “What’s the big deal? It’s not like this is happening to you or anything.” Annalene huffed. “You know, that’s real nice. After all, I’ve been trying to do to help you through whatever the stars this is in the first place. To make sure you don’t get hurt. And then you throw yourself right into the very thing that’s harming you. What is that, Amika?” “You’re probably aiming for selfish,” Amika said flatly. “I never asked you to help me, okay? If you’re expecting something like a pat on the back for all of your help then, here, come here. I’ll give you one.” Annalene recoiled. She sized Amika up for several moments, fighting back tears. The air around them grew increasingly thick with tension, each breath feeling heavier than the last. Ominous shadows stretched across the ground, casting a foreboding gloom that swallowed the light. The landscape appeared distorted, resembling a surreal painting viewed through a grimy lens, with shapes bending and blending into one another. A sense of unease hung in the atmosphere, amplifying the feeling that something sinister was lurking in a veil of darkness. Amika glared at her, irritated by everything about the situation. “What?”
“You’re really something else right now,” Annalene bit back, her voice trembling. “I’m like your only friend and you turn on me?” “My only friend, huh? Have you been waiting to tell me something nasty like that for a while, now?” Amika stood up and glowered at her friend. “You’re acting like I’m enjoying this. Can’t you tell all of this is getting to me? The fact that you want me to stop it. And they want me to stop it. Can’t you tell I’m frustrated and hurting and struggling with how to do this? I can’t stop this just to make all of you more comfortable, okay? I want to go back to the way things were but I can’t. I just can’t. So just get over yourself and realize that I’m confused and in pain.” Amika patted her chest a little too hard. “Me, Annalene. I am in pain.” Annalene scoffed. “For someone in that much pain, trying weird experiments with your mind doesn’t make sense.” “What would you do then? If you had this …” she tapped at her temples “This gift?” Tears spilled over and trickled down Annalene’s cheeks. She shrugged, unable to offer a feasible answer. “I’m not playing mind games for the fun of it, Annalene. I’m trying to understand it so I can stop it.” Annalene choked back a sob. “Well, so am I.” Amika shook her head. “It’s not about you getting credit for being able to fix me right now, okay?” “Me getting credit …” Annalene’s voice shook with disgust. “Who are you? You’ve never talked to me like this.” The heaviness lifted as Amika slumped forward, burying her face in her hands. Her body shook with silent sobs. The ominous shadows that had once held her in an icy grip began to recede, their menacing presence fading into the background. As the darkness lifted, a quiet warmth enveloped her, and with each tear that fell, a sense of relief washed over her. In that moment, the vibrancy of life slowly returned, breathing color back into her world. “I’m
me, Annalene. I’m confused about all of this and in pain,” she said, her voice muffled through her tears. “That’s all I can be right now.” “Then stop trying to aggravate it by finding a solution. Just leave it alone,” Annalene pleaded. Amika glared up at her, wiping tears from her face. “What kind of friend would want a person to accept complete defeat like that? Clearly, you’re not listening.” She sniffed in disgust, realizing she could no longer prioritize Annalene's feelings over her own. “Maybe it’s good you’re questioning our friendship because honestly, I’m right there as well.” Annlene stood over her in silence. “I—I don’t even know what to say to you.” “Right. No sympathy,” she said, defeated. Amika peered up and gestured over to the cart. “Maybe it’s best if you don’t say anything, then. Just leave me alone.” Annalene choked back a sob and rushed past Amika down the stairs toward the family vehicle and locked herself in. Amika’s quiet sobbing echoed the heartbreaking cries that were coming from inside the cart. After falling into an exhausted sleep, Amika woke up suddenly, feeling something sniffing at her feet. To her relief, she saw one of the older squirrels from Carrick’s team looking back at her. It chittered and approached the steps. “Can you hear me? I’m not sure how this works?” Amika perked up, slightly cautious about mind-sharing with an outsider. “I can hear you. You want to talk to me?” He chittered and nodded once. Amika’s gloomy mood brightened instantly and she offered the squirrel a warm smile. “Permission granted. Hi there. How are you? I’m Amika. I’m from Fae Colony. Can you tell me what you call yourself?” Clearly guarded, the graying squirrel did not reveal his name.
Amika scooted in a little closer. She had been wanting to have a private moment to check on the Gaelens’ squirrels regarding the destruction of the forest. “How are your families doing? Hopefully, no one was impacted by the fires?” The squirrel cocked his head to the side and scuttled back. “We are only treated as beasts of burden, never considered our thoughts or feelings or lives.” In a flood of visual images, the squirrel shared a memory reel filled with highlights from his life in Darragh. He recalled his favorite tree, where he first met his partner and started a family. He remembered taking his small family on their first foraging trip together, the changing seasons, and the moments when his children grew up and left the family nest. He also thought about the first encounter with Carrick, who approached with bait and a snare. Finally, he reflected on watching the tree from the garden where he had to work, knowing his mate was still waiting for him to return. “I know nothing of the fires in these parts. I have other concerns about what impacts my family.” Amika’s body shook after the influx of his haunting story. She was both mesmerized and extremely uncomfortable after receiving the depth of his personal share. A tear trickled down her cheek. Amika’s heart swelled with empathetic grief. “I’m so sorry. I don’t think the gnomes realize …” “You could offer us a voice, correct? To those that claim to own us?” Amika clutched her arms across her chest; his assuming request took her off guard. “A voice?” His communication style was abrupt, allowing no room for small talk. “I ... I can try? What do you want me to tell them?” “Tell them we are done working for them. We have our own lives, our own families. It’s not supposed to be our job to do their work. I’m meant to enjoy the rest of my life with my mate.”
Amika sat back in shock. She wasn't sure what had knocked the wind out of her more—the task of communicating such a drastic blow to her favorite family or the callousness of the truth in his words. The squirrel nodded his graying head. “So you won’t tell them what I ask.” She stood up defensively. “I assure you, they don’t mean you any harm.” “Do they not? They never seem to be concerned if we tire or if we are of old age.” His breathing wheezed, almost as if to emphasize his point. Amika’s gaze softened with pity. Under normal circumstances, this sort of thing should have required calculated consideration before making a final decision. Gazing into this squirrel’s eyes, she realized the importance of both the guard he had up and the vulnerability to ask her to help set his family free. To set him free. There was only room for empathy and action. Amika didn’t need to consider the number of years these animals have gone silent in their suffering. She knew exactly what she had to do. “Will you be there to help me translate what you need to say?” “No. We leave in the morning.” His desertion set off a cold shiver in her bones, forcing an exasperated sigh out of her thin-pressed lips. “In the morning? Without any warning? How am I supposed to …” “The choice is yours, but our decision is made. You can offer them our message as a simple explanation. That’s more grace than they deserve after all of these years.” His beady eyes glimmered with anger. “We have never had the means to tell them.” He glanced her up and down, his nose twitching. “Until now. Now we have you. So, thank you.” His words tugged at her gut. “And you’re implying if I don’t tell the Gaelens your plans, I’m letting your entire family down, correct?” Her impatience flared by the manipulative delivery of his request. “I didn’t even
ask to be your interpreter. You just imposed this upon me because I could understand you. How is that even fair?” He turned his back on her and joined the group of squirrels in their native tongue of indecipherable chattering, communicating clearly he was done with the question. Amika frowned and stood up. “Where will you go?” The elderly squirrel offered a defensive bark. “That’s none of your concern.” “Would you hear me out about something? They are in there wanting to do something about what happened. They are in a meeting and want to make some sort of plan to help.” The squirrel turned his nose up at her. “Aren’t they helping only themselves?” Amika crossed her arms defensively. “What do you mean?” “Who exactly do they have in mind? Just the school and its property? The students?” Amika’s face blanched, caught in the tangle of his truth. He sized her up. “They are not concerned with anything outside of that. They are not seeing beyond their own noses. Have you seen what has become of our homes?” She dropped her gaze, sickened by his question. “Yes, I have. I was horrified by what had happened.” “It is terrible. And who has helped us? The fae have offered some assistance. There are thousands of families who have been displaced, our extended family is only one of them.” “They are trying to help,” her thoughts growled, sending an unexpected energetic push at the squirrel. He staggered back, flustered at the attack. His beady eyes gleamed with hatred. “We’re done here. Do as you will. The choice is yours.”
Amika’s body flooded with shame at what she had done. His bitterness cut to her heart, and she inhaled sharply. “I will tell the Gaelens what you ask. I do promise we are trying to help.” “Is it the same help you just offered with your psychic attack?” He huffed indignantly and turned away from her, unwilling to engage any further. She pulled her knees to her chest, horrified by the truth of his assaulting words. Amika sat down on the smaller set of steps, her mind and stomach swirling with anger and frustration, unsure of where to aim them. The elderly squirrel made complete sense of his feelings and how they had been mistreated and seen as insignificant. His anger was justified, but she was also upset that he was taking it out on her when she was obviously trying to help. Her thoughts got lost in the agony of the argument with Annalene, not to mention being cornered into having to tell Carrick about the unpleasant news regarding his team of animal workers. Her anger was getting the best of her, and it was clearly impacting others. She hadn’t intended to hurt the squirrel. She lost control for just a moment, but it was a pivotal moment. “Everything okay?” She startled at Carrick’s hand on her shoulder. Amika shook her head. “No. Not really.” He took a seat next to her. “Annalene’s in the wagon?” Amika nodded, hesitant to share what had happened between them. “She’s worried about you,” Carrick said. Amika shook her head. “I think she’s more upset at me.” Carrick leaned forward, propping his elbows on his knees. “How do you figure?” “First off, I got her in trouble today.” Amika’s brow furrowed in disappointment. “She’s never gotten in trouble, and I got her in trouble. I
didn’t mean to. Plus, all of my headaches and these weird, invasive thought attacks and whatnot. She’s not sure what to do to help me. I don’t even know how to fully control all of it, so I can’t even tell her how to help me. We got into a nasty fight. I said things that were hurtful to her.” Amika teared up. “Carrick, she’s really mad.” Carrick sat back, thinking quietly on the gravity of the situation. “Where’s Dragon? How did it go?” Amika changed the subject. The deep lines on his face and the distant look in his eyes suggested he was exhausted from the day's events. “She’s still inside talking things over with Azric. They voted in favor of the rebuild plan.” “That’s good news, right?” Carrick inhaled and closed his eyes, then got up to walk to the cart. “It’s going to be a lot of work.” “What about the others?” She kept her gaze on the team of squirrels. The one she had chatted with was nowhere to be found. “The others?” “You know? Outside of campus? The creatures who have lost their homes, and some have lost their lives. What about them?” Carrick removed his red cap and scratched at the balding spot on his head. “Well, I don’t think there are any plans to offer …” She cut him off before he could finish. “That’s what I was afraid of.” He cocked his head to the side, scanning her face for an explanation for the sharp tone. “Well, maybe Fae Colony can offer help, then?” Amika flashed him a cold gaze, offering nothing else but icy silence. Carrick pulled back. “Amika. Is everything okay?” Amika’s brow furrowed, and she scowled, her anger churned again in the pit of her stomach. “No. I’m not sure why you assume the Fae have to do all of the work for damage they didn’t even cause.”
Amika felt deep sympathy for the squirrels and even debated whether or not she should tell them about their decision to leave at all. She was furious about Carrick’s oblivious ignorance and inconsiderate treatment. “I’m a little confused. I thought you spoke up in support of Dragon?” Amika crossed her arms over her chest. “I did. It’s just … That has nothing to do with what I just said. Others outside of this school need help also.” Carrick waited and placed a hand gently on top of Amika’s. “There’s no concern about anything outside of Breezemaple. All of the effort will be focused on getting the school up and running again.” “And that’s not important?” he said gently. “Well, it is. But there are so many … They have to fend for themselves, right? Who will help them?” “What about Fae Colony? I thought the fae were stepping up to help?” “They are Carrick, but it’s not enough. There are only so many of the fae that can mind-speak with the Wordless. But they can’t do it all. Do you know how straining that is? It takes more of us to help restore everything. Not just Breezemaple.” Carrick offered his hand to help her up. “What do you propose we do?” “We have to bring it up somehow. We have to ask for help. They need help, too.” “I understand. We will figure out something. How about you bring it up at the first planning meeting?” Amika fumed as she realized that he kept deflecting responsibility to take action himself. “Don’t you think everyone will be more concerned about campus plans?” She threw her hands up, exasperated. “I don’t think they will even hear what I have to say.”
“I highly doubt that. You were not a small voice in there today, Amika. You spoke up and they listened. You may have had quite an impact on their final votes. You realize that, don’t you?” Amika stood up without his help. She stared past him at the cart and considered his words. “I guess. I didn’t think anyone would listen.” “I guarantee no one will listen if you don’t try to speak up. You have to give your voice a chance.” “There’s too much conflict. It can’t possibly make a difference. You saw those elders. They bickered so much between themselves. So many of them held a lot of hatred toward dragons.” “Dragon risked a lot showing up today. You risked a lot by standing up to support her. You tell me, did you think, at the moment you decided to share your thoughts, that what you had to say was important?” “It wasn’t just important, it was necessary, Carrick.” “Well then, in this situation with helping the Wordless. You feel it is necessary and important?” Amika nodded her head. “Of course. Absolutely.” “Then you know there is no other choice, right? It must be done. They deserve the help, and your voice counts. You need to share it. Even if others tell you ‘no’, do you think that will stop you from trying to help?” Amika picked up some small pebbles and rolled them around in her hands as she thought everything over. “I guess you’re right. I would still try to help.” “Keep speaking up for what’s important.” Carrick caught her attention and held her gaze. “You have a heart like Dragon’s, and that is something you should always fight to preserve. Never let those around you, even if they are in a place of power, decide how you share your gifts and love in the world.” A lump formed in the back of her throat, and tears pooled in the corners of her eyes.
Carrick waved her over to join him at the cart. “Come on. Let’s go wait for Dragon.” Amika stepped down. “What about Annalene? I hate that she’s mad at me.” “Give her some time. Space is what she needs right now to settle the things inside of her, so just allow her that, and she will come around, eventually.” The depth and meaning of their friendship tugged at her heart. “I hope so,” Amika said to herself, and climbed into the seat next to Carrick, leaving the back of the wagon to Annalene while they waited for Dragon.
VIII Leafless trees creaked and moaned in the soft breeze as Amika pedaled her way across the conservatory grounds. Her concentration at school had been difficult to rein in lately; daydreams of the handsome centaur and her fight with Annalene demanded her full attention, leaving little room for studies. It had been almost two moons since she had visited with the Gaelens, and Amika was struggling with her guilt about not even attempting to stop by. Before she knew it, Kismet had shifted to Albonix, and Darragh was now covered in blankets of frostbitten, wintery delight. Amika was sure the Gaelens were worried about her, since she had skipped the last two heritage days at their home—a time dedicated to honoring the many traditions passed down through their family lines, where all were invited to relish bellies full of laughter and secret recipes. She hated that there wasn’t a way to reach out and let them know she needed some time alone without paying them an actual visit, which was something she just couldn’t bring herself to do. She allowed her silence and distance to offer them as much as she was at odds with spending time with them over the holidays. Even though the Gaelens were the closest thing to being Amika’s family, she just could not break out of the secrecy of her personal struggles. She fought with how to explain to them the complexity of her situation. She was afraid of somehow offending them, especially Dragon, about how difficult it was to attempt to keep her defenses up at all times, which seemed to be a necessity lately. It was as if something had been activated inside of her since the experience at the clinic in Fae City, and she didn’t know how to
completely control it yet. Besides, how could she even begin to explain a gift most of the Gaelens seemed to be uncomfortable with anyway? Amika appreciated that Solas understood and respected their connection. He never attempted to intrude on her thoughts. Only the occasional urgent request to go outside to use the bathroom made its way through at times, but was more of an intuitive nudge. She was enjoying the peace and quiet of solitary living, even though she felt twinges of guilt for not visiting with her best friend. She also felt guilty that she couldn’t tell Carrick about what the squirrel had shared with her at Breezemaple, and was sure their entire group had abandoned their posts at the Gaelen farm at this point. She struggled with feeling responsible for any confusion the Gaelens may experience connected to the sudden loss of their entire crew of worker squirrels, which was guilt she wasn’t meant to carry. With the upcoming Breezemaple rebuild planning meeting, she wasn’t sure what to expect regarding interacting with Annalene or Carrick, but she was sure there would be some definite tension to face. There were too many things to process, most of them overwhelming, but with the occasional daydreams of Larak to distract her, Amika somehow found a way to cope with the strain of her difficulties. Finding no immediate solution to her concerns, Amika turned her attention back to the road. She exited the roundabout that opened up into the crowded parking lot in front of the expansive, glass building and found an available spot to pull in. Grabbing her heavy pack, she tracked through the snowy lot toward the west entrance. A group of Messengers-in-Training zipped clumsily above her in their Will-o’-the-wisp Transport lesson, paying careful attention not to drop any of the precious luminous creatures in their hands. Sighing heavily, Amika tugged open the entrance door, wishing more than anything that she was headed off to Messenger training instead of her newly assigned post at the Quarterly.
Moving closer to her place as a Sprig at Cosantrai Conservatory, her role in Fae Colony had yet to be revealed, which was unusual since internship assignments were typically divvied out to all new students by now. Due to her unusual wingless build, the Seelie Home Guardians were stumped when it came time to place Amika in her role at the conservatory. The staff debated on whether or not to direct Amika toward hobgoblin worker roles since her lack of wings immediately qualified her, but she repeatedly tested way above the average hobgoblin status, especially when it came to her Gifts and Affinities classes. Amika was a fast learner and dove quickly into her studies to develop her mind-share gifts with her peers. Some of her favorite classes consisted of practicing telepathic games to learn how to develop the agile practice of developing confidence and trust in exchanging mental information with others. Simply put, finding her place in Fae Colony was never going to be cut and dry. Amika’s heavy boots clomped against the pristinely polished floors of the glassy breezeway as she made her way to the Mystery Grove gardens. She took a sharp right at Archives Hall toward the gardens, where a hive of Archivists were buzzing around, documenting, calculating, and shelving precious artifacts and collected information linked to the sacred mysteries between their realm and the Creative’s realm. Classes were mid-session in the building, so the hallways weren’t too crowded. She wanted to stop by and visit with her favorite professor and Head Cosantrai of Mystery Grove, Deirdre Woodsong, before heading off to her new assignment at the Quarterly workroom. Amika would be transitioning away from Shadowworking in the open wild spaces of Mystery
Grove with her professor to studying in a confined workspace with an assigned Scribe. She was not looking forward to the mandatory change of position. Amika pushed open the door and stepped into a wonderland of dormant, landscaped slopes that flanked the sides of each orderly row of underground greenhouses. She crunched her way along the pebbled paths that wound through the glistening hillsides and passed several outdoor classrooms, which were icy pergolas staged in front of polished wooden benches fit for the spirited classes of younger First Buds. On a warmer day, one of her favorite Archivists, named Quinton, would be riding snail-back and weaving around the garden ponds, collecting valuable growth patterns of the wildlife to document any and all necessary changes for his records. The low murmur of a Will-o’-the-wisp Nurturing class discussion caught Amika’s attention as she passed by one of the underground greenhouses. This particular class was observing a section of recently transplanted Will-o’-the-wisps in their new location. A stern professor passed out compasses, star charts, and small sample jars to each of the small groups. Ranked as a First Bud—the division at Cosantrai Conservatory dedicated to the study of the development of First Bud Will-o’-the-wisps—Amika was thrilled by the chance to witness a Sprig class in session. The group was whistling and clapping syncopated beats with a group of Cosantrai who were drumming on hand-stretched, rabbit-skin drums and dancing their tributes to the newly budded beings that swayed and bobbed in response. It wasn’t labyrinths of irrigation systems or piles of shoveled compost that infused the Will-o’-the-wisps with life. In the gardens, beyond elements of air, water, and sun, the beings thrived only on Mystery Grove Cosantrai’s offerings of enchanting music, dance, and spoken word. “That’s beautiful. Did they write that?” a spikey-haired male asked as he disrespectfully poked a stick in the frozen water of a nearby fountain. Several peers in his assigned group gasped and gawked.
The poor First Bud student seemed completely unaware of the severity of his bold question. Amika knew the answer. She also knew not to ever ask that question. She waited to see how the professor would handle the situation. “What you speak of is forbidden! These are the songs of All Time,” the professor’s words, laced with authority, echoed through the greenhouse, and she glared at him down the bridge of her upturned nose. “I don’t understand, professor, why is talking about where the songs come from forbidden?” the defiant student pressed. His classmates exchanged puzzled looks. “It has always been,” the professor's unwavering tone and unblinking gaze added weight to her words. “But they have to come from somewhere. They didn’t just exist, right?” the student's confusion was evident in his voice. Irritated by the student’s disrespect and inappropriate questions, the First Bud teacher ushered the young fae away from the group by his elbow. “Creatives are the only ones allowed to write such things. It is forbidden. That is the last we will speak of that subject,” the professor hissed and swiveled him around to face the rest of his class. “Well, how was I supposed to know not to ask that question?” the young fae whispered to his group of friends, who nodded in agreement. Amika chuckled at the student’s naivete. She had learned quickly not to ask those kinds of questions, even though she had the same sense of curiosity stirring within her. Witnessing the student being reprimanded made Amika feel especially grateful to have an instructor like Professor Woodsong, who allowed more flexibility in her teaching style. Amika halted on the path when she caught sight of another group of Sprigs gathered in an above-ground greenhouse, not much further away from the first class, engaged in applying enchantments to the pitcher plants that surrounded the Will-o’-the-wisps.
She stared in awe at the students applying brightly colored charms to the leaves and pale petals of the humanoid plants. “Whoa!” The engaged Will-o’-the-wisps transformed in unison each time a new color charm was added. Swirling hues flowed from the top down on each plant, and with each brushstroke, a new set of vibrant patterns emerged on their impressionable bodies. A different professor approached, holding a potted plant in her hands, and shooed Amika away from the group of Sprigs. “Move along, now. You’re not supposed to be here, First Bud,” the teacher scolded, making Amika’s ranking sound like an insult. The instructor turned her back to Amika and addressed her class, “Mind the leaves. Those things can give you a nasty rash if you touch them.” A group of hobgoblin workers forced Amika off the sidewalk as they carried heavy loads of thick glass, tools, and wood planks past her. They were headed toward a building that had been damaged by a recent ice storm; a large gust of wind had uprooted a dead tree onto the roof of the building, causing the glass to shatter and leave its debris all around the perimeter of the building in a glistening ring. If the fae were at all capable of producing or harvesting any sort of pixie dust like humans falsely believed, Amika imagined it surely would have looked like that. The hobgoblins’ hammers whomped in a rhythm that, strangely enough, complemented the sound of the nearby drumming. Amika’s heart sank when she realized that was probably the closest a hobgoblin would get to participating in a Cosantrai’s ritualistic tributes to the Will-o’-the-wisps of Mystery Grove. Aware of the short amount of time left before her assignment started, Amika walked briskly to the seventeenth row and knocked quietly on the underground greenhouse door. The sound of soft humming stopped, followed by a shuffle of footsteps before the door opened. Professor
Woodsong, who was dressed in an eccentric flowy outfit, adjusted her thin-brimmed glasses and smiled broadly at Amika. “Why, hello there, my favorite First Bud. I didn’t think I’d be seeing you today. Aren’t you supposed to be headed to the Quarterly for your new assignment?” She pulled her long, auburn hair into a low bun and welcomed Amika with a hug. Amika dragged her feet solemnly as she followed the professor inside the greenhouse. “I know. I hate that I have to leave. I love it here. Why can’t Elder Windrunner just decide I’m a Cosantrai and be done with it?” Amika glanced around the room at the rounded mounds of newly planted Will-o’-the-wisp eggs, which, at this stage of growth, were not much to look at. The only way she could tell their presence was there was because at the heart of each of the mounds was a glowing cobalt seed at the center. “Singing to them again?” Amika asked as she plopped down, cross-legged, near the curved legs of Professor Woodsong’s rocking chair. “Yes. Let me show you what I’ve discovered.” Professor Woodsong excitedly lifted her instrument and plucked the strings to tune them, one by one. Amika reached over and warmed her hands next to the small, crackling fire in the hearth that separated the rows of Will-o’-the-wisps from their sitting area. “I don’t see anything. What am I supposed to be looking for?” The professor finger-picked the strings and hummed a delightful tune. One by one, the planted eggs shuffled underneath the piled-up dirt. Amika watched as the eggs rose from their nests of earth and started spinning in synchronized, concentric circles. “What!” The professor beamed proudly and pointed back to the luminous dancing eggs. “Just watch.” She held the instrument closer to the outermost ring of eggs and played two of the strings together, creating a beautiful harmony.
Three of the closest Will-o’-the-wisp eggs hatched and broke through their delicate blue shells, revealing small close-eyed creatures whose tiny bodies resembled soft blue etheric flames. “What am I seeing? Is this normal?” Amika shrieked with delight. “For some reason, when I play more than one note at a time, it accelerates their growth pattern,” Professor Woodsong explained, grinning. “I just learned that today.” Amika laughed as her teacher hopped up and down while continuing her new song. Professor Woodsong walked over to another row of planted eggs and performed the same strummed harmony on her instrument. Five more Will-o’-the-wisp eggs broke through their shells. Professor Woodsong giggled joyfully. “Do you know what this means, Amika?” “It means I need to transfer back here and study more with you, that’s what it means. You’re going to need help with this discovery, surely.” Professor Woodsong flashed Amika a serious look. “You may very well be a Cosantrai, Amika, but cross-training is protocol, you know that.” Amika forced a smile through gritted teeth. “I hate this. Why can’t I just be excited about my new assignment at the Quarterly? It sounds like something I may enjoy”. Professor Woodsong grimaced. “Being a scribe-in-training? Not for me. I need to have free roam in the elements. Not cooped up in some crowded office space.” Amika slumped over; a wave of sadness hit her like a ton of bricks. “I know. I thought that if I kept repeating it to myself, somehow, I’d believe the words.” Professor Woodsong laughed and set her instrument on the seat of her chair. She patted Amika affectionately on the cheek. “I’m sorry. I’m not helping at all, am I?”
“How do you think I will do?” Amika asked, gazing up at her teacher for some sense of hope. The professor scratched her chin in reflection. “How will you do at the Quarterly?” Amika nodded and waited for her trusted and valued opinion. Professor Woodsong winced. “Honestly? I think you may feel too confined as well.” Amika lowered her gaze, troubled by what she was being told, even though she half expected that sort of answer. Professor Woodsong cupped a hand under Amika’s chin. “But … I think you will have to find ways to find the joy and beauty in that temporary role.” Amika’s face lit up, as if hope had been rekindled inside of her. “You don’t think they’ll place me as a scribe?” Professor Woodsong shook her head. “Oh, no. They would be doing a disservice to you if they decided such a thing. It’s just that they have to go through the steps to make sure you’re properly cross-trained. But no matter where you end up, you will be able to take all you have learned and apply it somehow, I do know that for sure. Plus, you’re too chatty for that workroom.” Amika laughed, her heart overflowing with gratitude for her teacher. “I will miss you terribly, Professor Woodsong. You are such an amazing teacher. I hope you know that.” Professor Woodsong blushed and shied away from the compliment. “Well, I am glad to hear you’re getting a well-rounded education and that I have played a positive part in that process.” Amika pushed herself up off the ground and slung her bag over her shoulder. “Thank you for everything, Professor Woodsong. I should get going. I want to spend some quiet time in the gardens before heading off to that noisy office.”
“Understood.” Professor Woodsong chuckled and picked her instrument back up to strum a different haunting tune. “Have a beautiful day, my favorite First Bud.” Amika waved goodbye and headed out the door; the soft humming echoed throughout the quiet greenhouse behind her.
IX Amika stood near the reception desk and waited for her assigned partner to arrive. She fiddled with her jacket as she watched the receptionist’s stand-in fumble through piles of paperwork. “I do apologize. I wasn’t expecting to be working up front today. That silly sign-in sheet is around here somewhere.” The friendly male fae yanked off his knit hat and tossed it on his desk, nervous sweat beading at his temples. The flimsy hat flung onto a canister of sharpened pencils, which tipped over and emptied onto the floor, making a rhythmic clacking as they hit the ground. “Fiddlesticks!” Amika smiled sympathetically and set her things near the door. She crouched next to him, snatching up some of the pencils that had rolled under his desk. An older male fae joined them from the workroom and gaped at the two of them as they clumsily replaced the office supplies. “Oh, my stars. Frederick, is everything okay?” Frederick’s hands shook as he shuffled through more paperwork. At the bottom of the pile was the required sign-in sheet. “Sorry. Sorry.” He flashed a weak smile at Amika and the worker Scribe and pushed the clipboard over for her to sign in. “Found it.” “Thank you for your help. Hope your day gets better.” Amika grabbed her belongings and waved goodbye, following her partner into the workroom.
Amika stifled a snicker when she heard the familiar clatter of pencils hitting the floor echoing throughout the receptionist’s area as she and her escort stepped through the open door. “Poor fella. Fran hardly misses a day from work, but when she does ...” The older Scribe shrugged. “Stars above help us.” He laughed nervously. “So, this is the workroom.” He gestured his hand around to show off their workspace. Her guide was squat for the average fae, plump around the belly, and his sparse, sandy combover showed he was nearing his mid-500s. “So, you must be Amika.” The friendly fae’s weak handshake matched his hunched-over, passive demeanor. “I’m Lozrik.” Amika staggered backward. “I’m sorry, did you say Larak?” The elderly fae shot Amika a confused look. “No. I said my name is Lozrik.” He frowned, appearing displeased with her lack of attention to detail. Amika blushed and fiddled with the straps on her bag. “I’m sorry. I must be tired. I apologize. Lozrik, it’s very nice to meet you.” Amika jammed her hands in her pockets, quite embarrassed by her misunderstanding. “Stupid, stupid, stupid,” Amika shamed herself under her breath as they walked through the workroom. Of course she’d been paired with a fae whose name would remind her of her crush. Hopefully, no one at the Quarterly knew who Larak was, otherwise, she had just completely outed her secret feelings. “This place is huge.” Amika scanned her surroundings. Not a decoration in sight. The workroom was a large, open space that housed five rows of workers, each running the entire length of the
building, and due to its close location to the paper press, the place smelled like a large cardboard box. Each row contained hundreds of independent desks that accommodated assigned Scribes. A small cubby, where all of the necessary supplies for each Scribe were stored, sat on the right corner of each desk. Next to each cubby were identical stacks of papers, canisters of quill pens, ink pots of various colors, small piles of thick, bound tomes, and a covered beverage of choice. Skylights brought in just the right amount of natural light, and the room buzzed with a monotonous sound of quill pens scratching on parchment. If Amika closed her eyes for a brief moment, it almost sounded like dry leaves rustling on a breezy Kismet day. She smiled at the thought. Scribes were busy writing their daily assignments on hand-pressed paper while worker hobgoblins brought in fresh viles of ink for each desk, a specific color assigned to each row. With as many fae in the room, Amika expected it to be much louder, but no one seemed to be engaged in much more than the assignment in front of them. The place lacked diversity or any sense of a unique sense of character, which immediately set Amika on edge. Even the jackets and gloves draped on the backs of each chair lacked any sort of personality, as if each of the Scribes had been assigned the outerwear like a uniform. She now understood why Professor Woodsong felt she would feel confined in this workspace. This would take some getting used to. The rows were evenly divided into Scribes that were either transcribing things into their open, blank books or notetaking on their loose sheets of pressed paper. The surprising thing was, none of them looked unhappy about their lot in life, nor did anyone look particularly happy. They all appeared emotionless and uniform at their desks, which gave Amika a sinking feeling in her stomach.
Lozrik waved Amika over to the refreshment station, a humble collection of earthenware cups, loose leaf teas, and a carafe of hot water. “Feel free to help yourself.” Amika picked up and examined several of the tea containers and read over the ingredients. “Just make sure you get a lid,” Lozrik’s stern tone caught Amika off guard, causing her to almost drop the tea on the floor. She side-eyed him for startling her. “Can’t have any of our documents ruined by a little hot tea.” He pointed at the pile of lids, which were designed to fit snugly into place when pressed on the brim of each cup. Amika quickly picked a floral tea, sensing Lozrik’s impatience. “Right.” She inhaled the sweet scent of the steam, a familiar scent. “Hmmm. Where do I know that from?” She wafted the steam toward her face. “I swear I know that smell from somewhere.” “That’s one of my favorites. Imported from Gnome Colony. A gift from the house of Gaelen.” Lozrik stirred his own beverage before taking a few cautious sips. “Yes. That’s it.” Amika sniffed her hot beverage and could just about picture Aideen’s infectious smile. She took a scalding sip and recoiled. “Ohhh! That’s a lot hotter than I expected. Ouch.” She blew a cool breath on the hot drink, hoping to reduce the temperature so she could enjoy the wonderful flavors from Aideen’s garden. The scent and flavor would at least create some kind of connection for Amika to something vibrant in such a dull place. Lozrick tapped a finger on the stack of lids. “Don’t forget your lid.” Amika forced a smile. “Such a stickler,” she said under her breath. “I’m sorry? What did you say?” “Oh, um.” Amika blushed. “I said, this must be good for when you feel sickly.”
“Oh, yes. I’m sure.” He turned on his heel and cupped his beverage protectively as he passed through the second and third rows toward his workspace. His stumpy legs worked swiftly as he made his way back to his desk. “Well, let’s get to it.” Amika carefully sipped on her tea and joined him. The legs of her chair groaned against the floor as Amika pulled it out to sit down. The whole room stopped at exactly the same time, hundreds of heads glanced up in her direction, an eerie collective reaction that creeped Amika out. “Sorry,” her voice echoed too loudly, prompting another wave of annoyed looks from her coworkers. Amika cleared her throat and took a seat quietly, careful not to make any more noise. “So, what do you do for fun?” She blew on her tea and took another sip. Lozrik’s quill stopped mid-sentence, his hand shook nervously as he spoke, “I—I don’t know what you mean.” Amika’s brow shot up. “You know? Things that you enjoy doing in your free time?” “I’m a Scribe. That is my job,” Lozrik replied flatly, like it was a trained response. Amika stared at him, confused by his answer. She searched his desk for some hint of personality. His workspace, along with all of the others in the room, lacked any link to a personal life, outside of the rolled-up paper sack next to his emptied wastebasket, which Amika could only guess was his lunch. She smiled and batted her eyelashes, trying to hide her irritation. “Well, I know you’re a Scribe. But what do you do when you leave the Quarterly?” He dipped the quill back into his ink container, tapped it twice to get rid of any excess ink, and went back to his scribbling. “I don’t know what you mean. I will never leave the Quarterly. I’m a Scribe. That is my job.”
Again, with the scripted response. Amika pressed her fingertips together and leaned closer to him. “Okay. Let me clarify. When you leave the Quarterly after a day’s work—you know, you come here,”—Amika pointed at his desk—“clock in, write your assignments, and clock out.” She waited to see if he was catching on. Nothing. Amika inhaled sharply, determined to get a straight answer from Lozrik. If she was going to be stuck shadowing with this guy, she’d better be able to interact with him to some capacity. “After you clock out …” He raised his gaze from his work and stared at her blankly. She cocked her head. “You leave your workspace for the day. Do you go home and read? Do you have any hobbies?” Amika held her breath. “I eat.” Amika sighed and hung her head in defeat. She was getting nowhere. Squirming in her uncomfortable seat—the chair was even more stiff than her back would be by the end of the day—a smile spread across her face. An idea flashed suddenly. “Before you worked at the Quarterly. At Seelie Home? Did you have any hobbies there?” His expression changed, as if his focus was softened by memories that now drifted through his thoughts. “I loved Seelie Home.” A timid smile broke through. Amika beamed. Finally, she was getting somewhere. She scooted to the edge of her seat, excited to hear more about his stay at Seelie Home. “I did too. Desily was one of my favorite staff members there. What was your favorite class?” His face saddened and his eyes glazed over, as if taken over by the unseen force of work obligations. “Things are different now.” He swiftly returned to his document.
It was like Amika was talking to a robot again. She sat back in her chair and huffed in frustration, crossing her arms across her chest. They would have to work on this communication thing. Amika decided to make a trip back to Professor Woodsong’s greenhouse to visit with her about her first day. She crossed the snowy field toward the Mystery Grove grounds, reflecting on the many frustrations she had to endure while working with Lozrik. The greenhouse door was ajar, and Amika peeked in and knocked softly before stepping inside. “Professor Woodsong?” Amika waited. Professor Woodsong turned in her seat and greeted Amika with a smile, noticing her guest’s obviously discouraged spirit. “Bad day, huh?” Amika flung her bag on the floor. “You have got to be kidding me! They can’t expect me to do that for—for—how long do they even expect me to Shadowwork with that Scribe?” “Take a breath and come sit down with me. Let’s just settle down by the fire, okay?” Amika frowned and sulked at the hearth. Professor Woodsong lifted Amika’s chin to meet her gaze. “Tell me about your first day.” Amika pulled away and leaned backward on her elbows. “That place is miserable. And my coworker—it was like pulling teeth trying to even talk to him.” Professor Woodsong raised an eyebrow. “You got one of the seasoned Scribes, it sounds like,” she said and flashed a sympathetic smile. The professor folded a worn blanket into fourths and plopped it onto her seat, using it as a makeshift cushion for her chair. “I tried to warn you.”
“I know. I know. But this is impossible. I can’t even imagine doing that every day. And no one there seemed to complain.” Amika threw her arms up in the air, exasperated. “Why can’t I just come back here and finish the year out with you?” Amika pleaded and gave her teacher sad puppy eyes. “You know more than anyone here on campus how much I would love that.” Professor Woodsong sighed heavily. “It’s just not possible, I’m afraid.” “Couldn’t you ask? Like, put in some special request to have me transferred back here?” Amika tugged on Professor Woodsong’s arm. “I don’t know …” She plucked a lovely melody on her instrument strings. “It would be nice, though.” Amika sat upright, sensing her teacher may cave in. “Oh, please, please, please. I’ll be your favorite student.” Professor Woodsong chuckled heartily. “You already are, Amika, so putting in a special request won’t change that.” Amika was practically hopping on her knees. “Oh, but could you at least try? I mean, what’s the harm? You never know unless you ask, right?” Professor Woodsong eyed Amika playfully. “You sure are persistent.” “You promise you will at least try? Say you will? Please,” Amika begged. “Oh, alright. You better hope I don’t get into any hot water for asking.” Professor Woodsong wagged a finger at Amika as she rocked back and forth in her chair. “I just couldn’t bear working there the rest of the year without at least putting up a little bit of a fight.” “You are unorthodox, you know? It’s kind of one of my favorite things about you. The others …” the professor’s voice faded off, and her expression darkened. “Let’s just say the fae like to keep things in order, so any kind of change is always a difficult suggestion around here.” She caught Amika staring at her with a worried look on her face.
“But you will try?” Amika urged. “I promise I will try.” Professor Woodsong gave Amika a friendly pat on the arm. “Now … let me show you the progress we’ve made since you left. Look at how big the Will-o’-the-wisps have gotten. It seems that the combination of melody and harmony helped initiate some sort of growth spurt. Look at these little guys.” The professor lifted herself from her chair and proudly pointed out the newly sprouted flames atop the sleeping creatures’ heads. A grin tugged at the corner of Amika’s mouth. “Wow. They’ve almost tripled in size.” “I know. It’s amazing. I can’t wait to see what else I can try. This discovery may have just improved our ability to produce more harvests at a faster rate. I can’t wait to tell my supervisor.” Amika beamed. “See. This is exactly why I want to be with you to learn. You are going to take the colony leaps and bounds.” “Hopefully in a way that they approve of.” Professor Woodsong held the delicate leaves in her fingertips. “Most of Fae Colony has lost sight of the Old Ways.” Amika sat upright. “The Old Ways?” “Well, you interact with the Gnome Colony, don’t you? So, you must be familiar. Gnomes are the closest to the Old Ways. They honor a simple life with Connection.” “What do you mean? Connection?” She laughed at herself, sounding so similar to Solas asking questions about the fae. “Progress, probably due to our consistent interaction with the Creative realm, is slowly tearing us apart from the simple beauty that is life. Connection is honoring each other. Honoring the natural elements in harmony. Making time to allow peace within ourselves so we may be at peace with others.”
Amika reflected on her experience at the Quarterly. “I mean, the workroom was kind of peaceful. Nobody talked. So maybe they were connected to their roles?” “Well, you saw perfectly well the structure and order set at the Quarterly workroom. They may be connected to their role, but not each other, that’s for sure. You noticed how the place seemed devoid of anything that resembled the spark of wonder or joy?” “Or fun,” Amika chimed in. “Exactly. They are so caught up in doing versus being that they cannot connect to the things that once brought their hearts great joy.” “That’s terrible.” “Indeed.” Professor Woodsong leaned over a row of the emerging beings and inspected their growth. “But compared to Gnome Colony …” Amika’s eyes lit up. “Oh, it’s everywhere. That’s why I love it so much. But Seelie Home. There were some that seemed to have Connection there. Did you know Desily?” “Ah, yes, Desily.” The professor chuckled to herself. “She does have a light-hearted spirit, doesn’t she?” “Especially for a Proctor.” They both laughed. “Well, it just goes to show that we sometimes don’t quite fit what others expect us to be,” the professor reassured. “Is it inevitable? I mean, do our affinities determine our fate?” Amika asked. “You know, it has been so long since anyone has challenged the system, so I wouldn’t rightly know, to be honest.” “What happens if someone challenges the system?” The unanswered question hung tensely in the air. “Professor Woodsong, what happens?”
Professor Woodsong rested her instrument against her chair. “I think it’s getting late, and I need to start closing up for the day. We can talk more later.” Professor Woodsong shooed Amika toward her things near the hearth. Amika frowned and slowly slung her bag over her shoulder. “But …” “No buts. It’s time we both head home. I’m sure you’re exhausted from a hard day’s work.” Amika’s brow furrowed. “We both know I didn’t do any work today. I was only shadowing for my first day.” The professor averted her gaze. The professor’s aloof tone bothered Amika, but she decided not to challenge her. She would still need Professor Woodsong to put in a request with her supervisors, so she needed to stay on her good side. Amika turned to leave. “Okay. Well, have a good night, then.” “Oh, wait. I mustn’t forget to tell you.” Professor Woodsong’s gentle smile returned. “I will be taking a short reprieve from the gardens, but once I return, we can talk more about your new role at the Quarterly.” The professor’s words felt like a punch to the gut. Amika clenched her fists. “We just talked about you asking about me transferring. What just changed?” She simply couldn’t understand why Professor Woodsong’s temperament shifted so drastically. “We’ll see, Amika.” “You were the one who told me how dreary it would be there, right?” Amika pressed. “Yes, I did.” “You must know something about me. About my affinities. I can’t stay there.” “Why are you so concerned about staying there?” “Because I don’t want to turn into one of them. It’s like the light has been turned off inside of them. They are … robotic.” Amika shivered. “And creepy. Please don’t let that happen to me. Please.”
“Amika, honey, I don’t have a doubt in my mind, even if you somehow got stuck there, that you would become like them. Something inside of you, something still connected to real magic, won’t let you. You’ll find a way, I know it.” “But what if I don’t?” Amika sniffled and wiped her cheek. “You’re really upset about this, aren’t you?” Amika teared up and nodded. “They became like that. And I don’t want to find out if that could happen to me.” “Okay. Let me see what I can do.” She gave Amika a tight squeeze. “Take a breath. All will be okay, you hear?” Amika could offer nothing more than a nod as she nuzzled into her teacher’s embrace. Professor Woodsong hummed a comforting lullaby, helping to ease Amika’s mind away from the possibility of a tragic disconnection from the magic in her heart.
X Amika peddled her way up the slick mountainside road, making sure to keep her knit scarf draped around her head and neck each time a blast of freezing wind hit the exposed parts of her face. Careful to avoid the larger spots of black ice on the road, she huffed and puffed her way toward Professor Culpepper’s home in Dragon Colony. After several twists and turns, the trail flattened out near the jagged mouth of a cave. Almost oblivious to the details of the entryway as she peddled through, Amika gasped when she realized she was headed straight into a gaping dragon’s mouth, complete with spikey stalactites and stalagmites for teeth. Expecting complete darkness on the other side, Amika was pleasantly surprised by the lit torches lining the walls, each the shape of a fire-breathing dragon casting its hot breath toward the rocky ceiling. Surprisingly enough, she wasn’t scared of entering a dragon lair, although she probably should have had some sort of reservation about being there alone. Amika was more excited than frightened about the opportunity to visit Dragon Colony. That, and the fact she would be seeing Larak again at this planning meeting. Amika grinned and pedaled faster at the thought of him. She was eager to add some variety and adventure to her day-to-day, given that her work at the Quarterly offered very little excitement, outside of a papercut or two now and then from handling so much pressed parchment each day. Amika’s pedal cart jostled along the rocky road of the passage as it opened up to a large internal chamber—the belly of the mountain had been carved out to accommodate the housing of thousands of scaly creatures.
“Whoa!” Amika pulled to a stop in the middle of the road and gawked. Carved, ornate structures and the darkened doorways of each dragon lair scaled up the surrounding walls, looking as if the inside of the mountain harbored a thousand soulless-eyed creatures. She scanned her surroundings for an appropriate place to park. Pulling up near the base of the stone stairwell, she glanced around her pedal cart, making sure that she wouldn’t leave anything important out to be possibly taken. Never having to lock up her belongings in Fae Colony, Amika was unsure if her pedal cart would be safe if she just left it there. “Should I leave a note? What if a dragon finds it? What if they take it?” She panicked for a moment before shaking the thought from her head, sure the residents were hardly concerned with transportation devices outside of relying on their own wings or bipedal ways. It struck her in that moment for the first time outside of Fae Colony, she considered harm coming to her in that way. Amika gulped, intimidated by being in a dragon hive. It was surprisingly quiet; she wondered if the residents were nocturnal or if they were just out and about doing their dragonly duties, even though she wasn’t quite sure what those entailed. She pulled out the written instructions from her bag and searched to her left for Professor Culpepper’s home. A drop of cool, cave water dripped onto her paper from the ceiling, causing her to glance upward. Streaks of moss and lichen tracked downward from the high, arched ceiling, accenting the walls like green veins transporting water from unseen springs. “This place is so cool,” she said to herself. At a glance, the carved walls had a familiar style to the design, similar to the bench that she and Annalene had found at the top of Breezemaple’s West Tower. Amika quickly inspected the carved stairwell to see if there was even a reasonable way up. To no surprise, the steps were too large for her to scale, so she surveyed the wall to see if she could attempt to climb by utilizing
several jutted-out wall carvings as hand and footholds. Amika wished she had more time to admire the work she was grabbing a hold of—hundreds of carved dragon features: snarling mouths, an assortment of wings extended in mid-flight, and intricate mouth-breathed flames. At one point, she hoisted herself up into an extended, open palm of a dragon hand, careful not to catch her bag on the sharpened talons. It was spectacular to look at, but Amika wanted to avoid spending too much time staring at all of the details. Hanging for too long in one spot siphoned her energy, so she had to press on and slowly scale her way up toward the second level. “One more to go,” Amika huffed, encouraging herself. She pushed up onto the next level, using the back of one of the carved dragons for support, and took a few moments to catch her breath before searching for the exact location of Professor Culpepper’s residence. Amika’s heart hammered in her chest, and she rubbed the tender pads of her hands that had gotten rubbed raw from the stone. Amika giggled to herself breathlessly, imagining what would have happened if one of Professor Culpepper’s neighbors had caught the small fae grunting and kicking her way up their neighborhood walls. She was positive that dragons typically didn’t see a lot of her kind in these parts. Who knows, maybe they would have given her a lift. Approaching the fifth carved entrance on her left, she took in a deep breath and shook her arms to release some of her nervous tension. Adrenaline coursed through her body due to her bouldering adventure, paired with the anticipation of seeing Larak again. Her stomach flipped when she walked toward the door, which had been left slightly ajar. Hesitating for a moment, Amika nibbled on one of her nails as she debated knocking. After spitting out the tiny moon-shaped sliver of her fingernail, she sucked in a breath and voted to head inside, deciding that knocking on a solid stone door would only lead to bruised knuckles.
Amika shimmied past the bumpy, stone door into the cave home. Walking through the antechamber, Amika paused in front of what appeared to be a sitting room, full of exotic wares. The room was exquisitely decorated compared to Dragon’s cave, the only other draconic residence she had ever seen. Forgetting momentarily she was a guest in this home, Amika wandered into the room, entranced by his treasured collection. Luminous algae lamps, of merfolk influence, offered a soft and inviting glow. Fine artwork hung on carved wall hooks. One of the walls showcased a large map of Darragh, with delicate fabrics draped around the sides to frame it. Next to the large map, a woven tapestry hung, displaying the different lineages of Dragon Colony clans. The room was untouched, as if Professor Culpepper didn’t even utilize it but only went in there to maintain its perfect order. Amika could only guess it was a room reserved for special occasions, for everything was in such pristine condition. A particular bookshelf, which held much more than just books, caught her eye. Several collections of items were displayed on each shelf: wooden figures, clusters of crystalline pieces, blown glass creations, and intricately painted clay pots. Not a speck of dust on any of them. Amika wasn’t sure if any of the items were local to Dragon Colony or not, since she was unfamiliar with the types of talents that dragons possessed. Amika reached for one of the smaller wooden figures at eye level and was about to take it off the shelf to inspect it when she heard a laugh. Larak. Her heart skipped a beat. Amika sucked in a quick breath and quickly pushed her hair behind her pointed ears, smoothing down any stray strands with her fingers. She did a quick self-conscious sniff check to see if she reeked of sweat after that climb. Satisfied she wouldn’t knock someone out with her stench, she tiptoed on the flagstone flooring toward the sound of his voice.
Amika poked her head through the smooth, arched doorway into the kitchen. Larak and an unfamiliar female centaur were busy preparing snacks for the meeting. “Who’s that?” Amika whispered under her breath Amika knew it was rude to eavesdrop, but she wasn’t sure how to announce herself without interrupting their conversation; it sounded like they were talking about something serious. Or someone. “And he will continue to hurt you, Zinnia, if you don’t let go of the illusion that he was only a mirage.” If Amika had any remaining doubt as to who Larak was interacting with, that doubt was immediately smashed the second he spoke Elder Fairmind’s first name. The female centaur nodded in agreement, her long, straight hair swayed back and forth, similar to a horse’s mane. “I didn’t realize you felt that way about him.” He shook his head in disgust. “You know I can’t stand my uncle.” A knot tightened in Amika’s stomach as she watched them closely. There was an undefined connection between them that made her feel both intimidated and uncomfortable. She couldn’t pinpoint the nature of their closeness, but she could sense something between them. She paused, feeling a familiar, unsettling sense of dread wash over her. The only thing missing was the jarring crackle and hiss, yet the sensation was unmistakable. It reminded her of the feelings she had while trying to figure out Larak’s connection to Elder Broadfield. Elder Fairmind eyed Larak and lifted her cutting knife, twirling it in her hand by the handle. “Whoa, Zinnia. Where’d you learn how to handle a knife like that?”
Elder Fairmind chuckled and returned to slicing up pieces of fruit, flicking seeds out of the core, one by one, with her blade. She grinned at him. “Picked up some things over the years, I guess.” “Well, I’m glad you shapeshifted to help prep the snacks,” Larak said, laughing. “I can almost imagine you trying that with your hooves.” Amika backed away from their conversation, feeling jittery being in such close proximity to her after the experience at the Breezemaple meeting. “He was intentional. Never forget that.” A surge of shared memories activated as Larak continued to talk about this unknown aggravator. Tears welled up in Amika’s eyes, and she tried to swallow back the lump of sorrow at the back of her throat as projected memories flooded her thoughts. Through the lens of Elder Fairmind’s eyes, Amika saw herself curled up in a corner of her filth, staring out through the bars of a cage. Two humans were walking away from her, carrying a set of bundled baby unicorn foals. Amika gasped. “She has kids.” She hadn’t meant to attune to Zinnia’s thoughts, but something about this conversation caused their thoughts to merge. Reaching her limit of discomfort from being unnoticed, Amika faked a cough to get their attention. Larak stepped through the doorway and peered down the hallway. “Someone’s here.” CRACKLE! WHOOSH! Elder Fairmind stepped out from behind Larak through the doorway, her body now back to its original unicorn form. “Hello?” Larak called out. Amika decided it was time to speak up to keep the situation from escalating any further. She cleared her throat in an exaggerated way so they
could hear her and stepped out where he could see her clearly. This was hardly the way that she wanted to bump into him again. Amika smiled sheepishly. “Hey, there. It’s me, Amika. From the elder’s meeting. Don’t mean to intrude, but are we the only ones here? Where are Azric and Professor Culpepper?” she spouted in a nervous frenzy. Larak and Elder Fairmind shot each other a concerned glance. “Azric, Mona, and Professor Culpepper should be back any moment now. They went to meet Dragon to help her carry snacks over for the meeting. Annalene and Carrick should be with them as well.” Elder Fairmind eyed Amika for several moments before turning to leave. “I’ll be in the sitting room, Larak.” Amika shifted her weight and fidgeted with her scarf. Should she bring up that they shared imaginary tea in her reading nook? Feeling out of place in a strange home without the owner present was already odd; it made Amika and the others feel like intruders. But the added tension of not knowing how to interact with a psychic unicorn was nearly pushing Amika over the edge. Larak picked up on her nervous body language. “Here. Let me take some of your things. I’ll show you where we’re meeting.” He bowed his front legs to meet her at her level and held out his palm. Amika gazed up into the golden shimmer of his honey-colored eyes and felt a flush come over her. She quickly averted his gaze and dropped her scarf in his hand, creating a dainty spiral in the center of his palm.
XI Amika sat rigidly, her legs dangling over the edge of the armrest, while she watched Elder Fairmind sit back on her haunches. They waited in silence for the others to arrive. “So, did you have trouble finding the place?” Elder Fairmind’s muzzle contorted unexpectedly. “Wait. How did you even get up to the third floor?” Amika mimed a climbing gesture with her hands. Elder Fairmind whinnied a hearty laugh. “Climbed? Up the stairs? That must’ve taken forever.” “Well, actually, I used all of the dragon engravings to help me climb up the walls. It didn’t take nearly as long as I’d expected.” Amika nervously glanced around the room, examining her surroundings. Larak grinned at Amika as he joined the room. “You climbed the whole way up? Wow.” He set down the tray of prepared snacks on the coffee table in the center of the room. “You must be exhausted, then. Here.” He balanced a small cup for Amika in his hand. “Have some juice.” Amika smiled, pleased with his compliment, and lifted the drink to her mouth. She inspected the cup, recognizing the familiar earthenware in her hands. “So you’re friends with the Gaelens?” Her stomach flipped when she met eyes with Larak. “Actually, Aideen and Carrick brought these to me,” Elder Fairmind replied, clarifying. Amika averted Elder Fairmind’s penetrating gaze. “Oh, I see.” She fidgeted with the cup as Larak sat next to her chair and crunched on a
handful of snacks. There was no doubt about it: having tea and snacks with the elder was much more comfortable in her imagination than in real life. “Are they getting here soon?” Larak covered his mouth as he chewed and talked. “Anytime now.” Amika noticed that Elder Fairmind was keeping a stern eye on her interactions with Larak, causing the comfort level in the room to decrease significantly. “Did you hear anything we were talking about?” Elder Fairmind mind-shared. Amika's eyes bugged out in surprise, and she nearly choked on her sip at the unexpected mental intrusion. She turned her head to look at the unicorn, unsure if she should feel relieved, she hadn't imagined the entire tea conversation in her home. Amika hesitated, considering whether to respond that she hadn't given Elder Fairmind permission to mind-share their discussion. Just then, a loud grinding sound echoed down the hallway as Professor Culpepper opened and closed the front door. Carrick was perched on Professor Culpepper’s shoulder and laughed at an unknown joke as they stepped through the doorway into the meeting area. Dragon, Azric, Mona, and Annalene all walked in after them, following close behind. Amika visualized her mental cloak the moment Dragon and Azric stepped through the doorway. Elder Fairmind rose to greet them. “They’re here.” “Thank the stars,” Amika whispered under her breath, agitated at the elder’s lack of boundaries. Mona raised an eyebrow when she studied Elder Fairmind’s tense composure. “Everything okay, Zinnia? You look a bit unnerved.” “Oh, yes. Yes.” Elder Fairmind gave Amika a quick once-over before turning back to Mona. “I’m fine. Just waiting for everyone to arrive.” Carrick helped himself to a small plate of refreshments, then hopped over to the armchair next to Amika. “It’s good to see you again.”
She shot an apologetic look at both Carrick and Annalene, who were avoiding eye contact. “I’m sorry I missed the Albonix gathering.” “We know you’ve been through a bit of a rough patch lately. It’s okay.” He patted Amika’s arm. “What did you think about cave carvings out there?” he said, changing the subject. Amika hopped giddily on her backside, teetering a little too close to the edge of her seat. “Oh my gosh. They’re amazing.” “That’s the work of Elder Greenwood and his students.” “I thought so. Hey, Annalene,” Amika said, trying to gauge her friend’s patience, “the dragons out there on the walls—Elder Greenwood helped with that.” Annalene rolled her eyes. “I heard.” Carrick frowned. “Annalene, don’t be rude. You know better than that,” he chided. Annalene huffed and stuffed another snack into her mouth, turning her back to their conversation. “Is this it? I thought there would be more attendees?” “Ten’s better than none,” Carrick said. Dragon’s brow furrowed with concern. “I sure hope more show up for the actual day of the rebuild. We can’t do all of that work by ourselves.” Almost as if on cue, a knock came at the cave door. “Hello? Are we late?” Amika felt a surge radiating in her chest. What the—? She scanned the crowd and noticed Dragon staring doe-eyed at the doorway. Two drakes stepped into the living room, one of them glanced over at Dragon, and his face lit up. The surge in Amika’s heart-space doubled its resonance, rocking her backward. “Whoa,” she said, steadying herself. “That’s curious.”
Professor Culpepper groaned as he lifted himself from his couch to greet them. “Thank you again, everyone, for showing up to support. As you know, we are gathered here today to discuss some planning options concerning rebuilding the damaged West Wing of Breezemaple. Thank you, Dragon, for such a wonderful idea.” Professor Culpepper beamed at his bashful student. “Malakai, Gordaoff, please come in. Come in. Take a seat over there by Mona.” Gordaoff’s brow rose, and he bowed his head in a timid greeting at Mona. Malakai, on the other hand, couldn’t take his eyes off Dragon. This was going to be an interesting meeting. “Elder Greenwood sends his best, but was feeling under the weather and is unable to attend after all,” Carrick said, interrupting the sudden attention directed at Dragon. “Okay then.” Professor Culpepper clapped his large, scaly hands together, startling the smaller guests. The professor nodded at each of his guests. “Everyone have plenty to eat?” The crowd nodded in unison, causing a broad smile to spread across Professor Culpepper’s scaly face. “Let’s go ahead and get started. Larak? The plans? Can we see them, please?” Professor Culpepper adjusted his reading glasses on the ridge of his large, speckled snout. Larak trotted off into the other room for a moment before retuning with an armful of sketched blueprints. Amika could not pull the grin off her face anytime he made eye contact with her. Professor Culpepper cleared a space on the table so that Larak could set them down. He stacked them carefully in a pile, catching several of them with his hand before they rolled completely off the edge of the table. “I just want you all to know I am here for moral support.” He grunted in pain as he reached down to touch his mending leg with his hand.
“I wish I could do more, but Mona is forcing me to take it easy these days.” The professor chuckled and dodged the chopped vegetable that Mona teasingly tossed at his face. “My home is your home, and I am more than happy to offer this space for you all to gather. Truly, thank you for taking the time to come here today.” “Okay, pops, enough with the long speech,” Azric joked. Professor Culpepper shook his fist playfully at Azric and sat down slowly, groaning more on his way back down to his seat than when he got up. Azric surveyed the blueprints as the others crowded around to take a look. “Nice. Looks like you’ve taken care of all of the work here. Meeting’s adjourned,” Azric quipped sarcastically. Mona shook her head at her cousin. “Azric, stop. There’s still a lot to discuss.” “Like how will the nine of us do all of this work?” Annalene frowned. Larak cleared his throat to take the lead. “Sorry. Sorry. Do go on, Larak.” Professor Culpepper leaned forward and pressed his hands together. “Centaurs are rather bossy,” one of the two ogres said in a hoarse whisper. “Just like his uncle,” the other ogre grunted. Amika glared at them, causing them to erupt in guttural snickers. “Many creatures in Darragh are unwilling to help us at the rebuild. Trust me, we’ve asked.” He tilted his head in Elder Fairmind’s direction. “The good news is that Ogre Colony has agreed to help us,” Elder Fairmind chimed in and nodded her muzzle in the direction of the two ogre guests. One ogre grunted while the other leaned over and passed gas in response. The whole room groaned and covered their noses.
“Gnome Colony. Ogre Colony.” Professor Culpepper ticked his list off on his talons and waved the gassy stench away from his face. Carrick’s face brightened. “That’s fantastic. What about the others?” Larak groaned and rolled his eyes. “Centaur Colony is on the fence. Due to my uncle’s hatred of dragons, unfortunately.” “Ah, yes. Shadrek. Of course. Well, then. Fae Colony? What do you think, Amika? Would they be of any help?” The shift in room pressure due to the sudden mood change, on top of the heavy smell of flatulence hanging in the air, gave Amika a small headache. She pressed at her temples and grimaced. “I’m afraid the fae may not be much help. Due to the nature of the destruction, they are in the process of organizing relief for those who have been displaced or harmed.” “Displaced? I mean, the school is closed down for a while, but displaced is a bit of an exaggeration,” Azric interjected. Amika ignored the ignorant comment and turned to Carrick. “Have your squirrels left your property yet?” Carrick shot her a puzzled look. “Why, yes. How did you know? It was such a surprise. We have no idea what happened.” His shoulders slouched. “I hope they come back. I don’t know what happened. They’ve been with the family for generations.” Amika rubbed the back of her neck and sighed. “I should have told you earlier, I’m sorry. I just didn’t know how to give you the news.” Carrick sat upright. “News? What news?” Amika scooted back away from him and averted his gaze. “After the meeting with the elders at Breezemaple, when everyone was still inside, one of the squirrels shared something with me. I think he was the leader of their group or something. He was an older squirrel, maybe the oldest in your team.”
Carrick frowned. “An older squirrel? I gathered probably some of the youngest on my team. There is no way an old squirrel would have made it up to Breezewillow.” Amika cocked her head to the side. “I’m confused. Then who did I talk to?” She scoured her memory of the conversation, paying careful attention to one thing—the squirrel had initiated the mind-share. Amika’s jaw dropped open. That clearly wasn’t a normal squirrel, nor one Carrick had even acquired for his team. She looked up and searched Carrick’s face, unsure of how he would handle her explanation. “Well, whoever that was, he explained that they were leaving because none of you cared about what happened to the Wordless. It was a disturbing conversation. He shared an image of him working on your field, staring at the tree his mate was in. And you baited him and snared him.” Carrick’s face turned red with anger. “That’s absurd. I’ve never baited or snared anyone on my team. I’ve had help from the fae to communicate openly about asking if they are willing to help.” Amika’s face blanched. “Sounds like whoever it was told your team to run off with some fabricated excuse.” “Who are the Wordless?” Azric butted in. Amika and Carrick shot him an irritated glance. “How about you let her finish?” Malakai jumped in, halfway finished with creating an ice crystal heart in Dragon’s hand. Amika flashed him an appreciative smile. Carrick sat upright and crossed his arms at his chest, clearly uncomfortable with the conversation. “None of that makes sense. We offered those squirrels the best care.” He nodded his head at Dragon for her to move away from Malakai. She protested with a scowl but eventually scooted a reasonable amount of distance away.
Carrick huffed. “Why would some strange squirrel say all of that? Not to mention, there isn't even a large oak tree across from my field. Only a thick line of Berrywine maples.” Amika sat back. “Did I say oak?” Carrick shook his head, as if to rid his mind of all of the nonsense. “Oak or not, like I said, all maples.” Amika stared off, reflecting on the whole interaction. “That’s so weird. He was so convincing. Asking things like if any of you ever considered what it would be like to belong to someone else? To not have the freedom to see and be with your family every day?” Carrick picked at a string on his shirt. “Not one of our squirrels.” Amika’s face flashed hot, and she gestured to her head. “And he was so happy that they finally had a way of telling you.” “So what happened to the squirrels, then?” Azric asked. Carrick glared at him. “Azric, please. This isn’t your concern.” “We’ll sort this out later. Too many questions and not enough answers. We have other things to attend to right now.” Amika doubled up her mental cloak, sensing the tension rising. Carrick huffed and crossed his arms, turning his focus back to the larger group discussion. “Oh, yes. We also need reps from Satyr Colony,” Larak added, emphasizing his idea by raising his pointer finger. “Satyrs? Why especially satyrs?” Professor Culpepper asked, gathering a plateful of food for himself. Professor Culpepper chuckled. “Of course! For cleanup.” One ogre leaned over to the other. “I don’t get it? What am I missing? Cleanup?” Annalene gave them a stern look. “Shush. I’m trying to listen.” “Carrick. Why satyrs?” Amika asked, attempting to pull the focus to the meeting topic.
“Satyrs will eat anything you put in front of them. I think the human realm has creatures like that as well. Goats, I believe?” Carrick whispered. Annalene crinkled up her nose. “Oh. Ew. They eat garbage?” “Most of us use everything without any kind of waste,” Carrick informed. “Food comes from the ground and returns to it in the garden.” He made a circle with his hands to emphasize his explanation. “Since an entire building was destroyed, we have no other means of transporting the massive amounts of debris away.” He made an exaggerated gesture of chomping on an invisible piece of trash. Professor Culpepper nodded in approval and took a bite of his snack. “Good thinking. Imagine what would happen if all of that toxic material were to leech into the soil.” He shook his head in disgust. “The grounds of the school and the lake …” Larak and Elder Fairmind were busy assigning work stations and talking over plans for collecting building supplies when a small knock came from the arched, stone doorway. “Sorry I’m late. I was held up in a meeting.” Professor Woodsong waved and smiled when she saw Amika. “My favorite First Bud, what are you doing here? This is quite unexpected.” Amika jolted up from her seat and rushed to give Professor Woodsong a hug. “It’s so good to see you.” Professor Woodsong pulled away and held Amika at arm’s length. “I guess you heard the news?” Amika’s face brightened. “You were able to get me to transfer back?” she said, excitedly. “I hadn’t seen you at the conservatory since you’ve been on leave. I’ve been looking forward to hearing about …” Professor Woodsong turned away and slumped down on the nearest available sitting cushion, a flash of exhaustion washed over her expression. “Oh. You haven’t heard the news. I’m afraid not, Amika.” She took a
moment to catch her breath and placed a hand on her heart. Her voice quavered, “They’ve fired me.” “The conservatory fired you?” Amika exclaimed and plopped down abruptly next to her. “I—I don’t understand. Was it because of my request? I am so sorry.” Professor Woodsong held her hand up to stop Amika’s protest. “I’m afraid it’s not that simple. I can’t talk about it, though. I have been sworn into secrecy.” Professor Culpepper jumped in, “There is talk of offering her a position at Breezemaple.” “Direth, please. We can’t talk about these things as if they’re set in stone. You know what we’re up against. I still have to be voted in by the council.” “Deirdre, you know as well as I do the staff at Breezemaple will do everything we can to influence the vote.” His words brought a much-needed sense of optimism. He offered the small professor a hand to help him up from the comfortable couch in the sitting room. “Speaking of votes, let’s return to the reason Dragon brought us all together: to help restore our beloved campus. Larak, son, let’s take a look at those blueprints …”
XII Annalene rubbed her arms vigorously as the brisk breeze whipped past them. “I wish I would’ve layered up. Holy smokes, it’s cold.” Amika unwrapped her long scarf and offered it to Annalene, who scowled at her and turned away, her teeth chattering and body shivering in her obstinance. Amika shoved the scarf in Annalene’s face. “Honestly, Annalene. Now you’re just being petty. You’re freezing. Take it.” Annalene stuck out her tongue and grabbed it without offering so much as a thank you. Amika shook her head and laughed. Annalene’s chattering teeth were still audible from several feet away. “I’ll go grab an extra blanket from my peddle cart. Be right back.” The frost-tipped grass crunched under Amika’s heavy boots as she made her way back to her vehicle. Amika hunched over and braced herself against the cold wind, turning her collar up to protect her exposed neck. “Argh!” She fastened the top button on her sweater before pulling her bag from the passenger seat. “Why did we plan this so early before Fairweather?” She quickly yanked on a thicker sweater for herself and rummaged through her back seat for the folded blanket. A group of ogres, inadequately dressed for the weather, waddled past Amika. They grunted at each other in their native language as they searched Breezemaple’s grounds for their assigned workstations. Amika spotted Carrick setting up some of the food and serving utensils at their table. She quickened her pace to a jog and beamed a warm hello.
“Amika. Perfect timing. I’ve brought over the first batch of millet porridge and fresh fruit. Annalene already set up the hot water and mugs for tea.” Carrick pointed out the new additions to their station table. “You sure we will have enough for everyone?” Carrick grinned. “You’ve got a whole team of ladies in Gnome Colony cooking up a storm. Trust me, there’s plenty where this came from.” Carrick straightened the last of the supplies and slapped his knee. “Alright, you two. I’m off to find Professor Culpepper. If you need me, I’ll be right over there.” He pointed at a group of workers of all shapes and sizes working together to reconstruct the damaged frame of the building. The midday sun beamed down on the girls as they prepped items for the second wave of volunteers. Amika glanced over at Annalene and attempted a neutral subject. “So, do you think Professor Woodsong will get the job?” Annalene took the bait. “You know, I’ve been thinking about that myself. I don’t know her well, but it seems unfair about what happened at your school.” Amika grinned. She hit the jackpot. “I know. It didn’t seem appropriate to ask any more questions. But I can’t help but wonder if she’s in trouble or something?” Annalene’s mood dipped again. “Maybe it’s best we didn’t stick our noses into other people’s business.” “What do you mean? I’m not trying to—” “Listen.” Annalene set down the supplies on the table and looked Amika straight in the eyes. “I love you dearly, you know that, right? But lately,
I don’t know. With all of the things you have been going through … you’re changing. I can’t quite pinpoint how exactly, but I’m not sure I like it.” “I—I can’t help what’s happening to me. You know that, right?” Amika slammed a mug on the table, the contents spilled over onto the linen tablecloth. “Oh, shoot.” Amika scrambled to move the food items out of the way. “I do.” Annalene quickly helped Amika mop up the spill with a rag. “But you’ve got to figure something out about it, and not drag everyone in with you while you're trying to figure yourself out.” Amika stepped back from the sting of Annalene’s comment. “Annalene …” it was barely louder than a whisper. “You’ve never talked to me like this. What’s with you? You’re changing, too.” “What’s wrong is that everyone is … everyone is ...” Annalene struggled to articulate her frustration. Amika wiped away her tears and attempted empathy. “Talk to me. You’re really upset.” “I don’t know. I just—you got me in trouble with Da. I’ve never gotten in trouble with Da.” Annalene shot an accusing glance at Amika. “And now you want to talk about things that will get us in more trouble. Why can’t you just leave things alone?” Annalene turned away. “Something’s happening and everyone’s changing. Too much is changing. I just want things to go back to the way they were. Peaceful.” “I know. I know. It’s all overwhelming, I understand.” Annalene pushed Amika away. “You don’t understand. You don’t have a family you are accountable to.” Annalene’s eyes had a darkness to them Amika had never seen before. Amika stepped back, like she had just been punched in the gut. “Annalene!” Annalene’s cold gaze softened with remorse when she saw several tears drop from Amika’s cheeks.
“That was completely unnecessary,” Amika said through gritted teeth. “Of anyone, you should know that’s a sensitive subject for me. You’re not even trying to hold back, are you?” Amika sniffed and wiped her streaming tears. Annalene’s face blanched. “I—I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. Something’s weird about this place. We fought like that last time we were here.” Amika huffed. “And we are trying to settle that argument just to stir another one up?” She organized another set of plates of food. “Look, we have a long day ahead of us. We have hungry volunteers we’re responsible for. How about before anyone else says anything else, let’s just focus on why we came here today? We’re here to help. Not fight, okay?” “Okay,” Annalene said in a quiet voice. Amika iced Annalene out for most of the rest of their shift. Outside of engaging in polite small talk with any guest looking for refreshments, Amika pretty much kept to herself. Annalene finally attempted to break the silence as the lunch crowd approached, “Listen.” Amika shot Annalene an angry look. “I was wrong to say that. Completely wrong. I know that and I’m sorry.” Amika broodily stacked sandwiches on lunch plates and filled cups with pressed berry juice without a second glance in Annalene’s direction. “You’re right about not being able to control what has been happening to you,” Annalene continued. “Here’s the thing. We’re all concerned about what’s affecting us personally, right? But I’m not trying to rub your insecurities or imperfections in your face, am I?” Amika slammed a plate down in front of the next guest, who stared back at her with a puzzled look on his face.
“You crossed a line, Annalene.” Amika pushed a cup of berry juice at the same guest and shooed him away. “Next in line, please!” Annalene stared at the ground. “Don’t take it out on him. He just wants his food.” “Ugh.” Amika stomped her foot. “Fine.” She had no clue what to do with the anger in her heart. She wanted to pick up the entire table and toss it toward the lake. Amika stepped out from behind the table to take a break and let Annalene take over. She needed some alone time, otherwise, she would do or say something she knew she would regret. Annalene glanced at Amika several times. Sensing her friend’s concern, Amika got up from her quiet sitting spot and joined Annalene behind the table. She busied herself with cleanup to avoid any other arguments. Annalene poked her playfully to get her attention. “I think I saw Larak watching you earlier,” she teased and side eyed Amika to see if she would budge from her cranky mood. A smile played at the corner of Amika’s mouth. “Really?” Annalene let out a loud sigh of relief. “Really.” She set her work items down on the table and waved Amika over, inviting her to reestablish their best friend status with a massive hug. Amika hesitated, her pained expression returned. “Please don’t ever talk to me that way again. I know you’re dealing with a lot right now, but I don’t want all of this change to tear us apart, okay?” “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I promise not to react that way with you again. I need to figure out a way to not take my frustration out on you.” Amika accepted Annalene’s hug and squeezed her extra tight. “Please. Let’s never fight like that again.” She pulled away and scanned the yard. “So, where did you see Larak?” “He’s right behind you.”
The girls spun around and craned their necks upward. Annalene clapped a hand over her mouth and gasped. “Hello, ladies. Was someone looking for me?” His smug grin revealed he heard everything. “How long have you been standing there?” Amika asked, her cheeks flushed. “Long enough to hear you guys talking about me staring at you.” Annalene snorted a laugh and placed two freshly poured, larger cups on the table in front of him. He grinned and winked at Amika, grabbing the cup closest to her to take a sip. Amika felt an unexpected nerve rise in her. She bit the inside of her cheek in hesitation and decided to go for it. If he was going to be that brazen, why shouldn’t she? She gazed up at him and offered her best doe-eyed look. “Well?” “Well, what?” He wiped the berry juice from his goatee and watched her intently. Amika’s heart pounded as a feisty courage welled up inside of her. “Well, were you watching me?” Larak’s jaw ticked as he considered his response. “And what if I was?” Amika didn’t get a chance to answer him. A team of ogres shuffled up to retrieve their lunches, rudely interrupting their playful banter. Amika chewed on her bottom lip, frustrated at the disruption, still blushing from their brief interaction. Larak nodded at them, smiling, and strutted off toward his workstation. “Ladies, have a good day. I best get back to work.” The girls watched Larak make his way through the crowd and out of earshot before they both toppled over in a fit of giggles.
“Can you believe Larak,” Annalene whispered as she stocked two plates full of food. One of the male ogres pointed a stubby finger at his plate. “Two more,” he commanded. Annalene stared at the volunteer in shock. “We don’t have enough …” Amika reached in front of Annalene, mid-chide, and plopped two more tiny sandwiches on his plate from the stack of food designated for the smaller guests. “That’s it?” He grunted; his warty eyebrows furrowed together in an annoyed frown. “Greedy little …” Annalene huffed. Amika cut Annalene off abruptly, “We do appreciate you coming and helping us out today. You’re more than welcome to pick through any leftovers if we have any.” Amika shooed him away and began fixing another plate for the next guest in line. The thickset ogre grunted a thank you and waddled over to his group of friends, tearing hungrily away at his meal. “What did you do that for? I was trying to set boundaries with the fella. If every one of them were to come up asking for more, we would surely run out before the dragons even got their share.” “Eh. He can have mine. I’m not real hungry,” Amika said and smiled to herself. “My stomach’s in all sorts of knots.” Annalene bit into the corner of her own sandwich. “Larak?” she said through her mouthful. Amika nudged Annalene to be quiet. “Stop that. He’s probably around here somewhere.” They both laughed and glanced around, making sure the coast was clear. “I think you’re right about this place, though. We never fight like this.”
Annalene nodded vigorously. “Right? I wonder if it has something to do with that fight? Like some of the anger got left behind or something.” Annalene chuckled. “That sounds ridiculous when I say it out loud.” Amika scanned the campus to see if there were any other outbursts in other groups. A handful of smaller groups were in heated disagreements about supplies and where to put trash and debris. The girls exchanged a concerned look. “I think you actually might be on to something, Annalene.” “Oop. And there’s Larak staring over here again,” Annalene said, bursting into a fit of giggles. Amika leaned in closer and whispered. “I can’t stop thinking about him.” “He seems to like you,” Annalene said, a little too loud. “Shush.” She pulled Annalene closer and scanned their surroundings for any sight of the handsome centaur. “You think so?” Amika asked, hopeful. Annalene took another bite of her sandwich and eyed Amika. “Oh, come on. Seriously?” She shook her head in disbelief. “You couldn’t tell? He was totally flirting with you.” Amika smiled, a giddy feeling flipped in her stomach as the idea of Larak being interested in her invoked a familiar rush of electric anticipation. She could have easily been swept away in a barrage of daydreams, but a familiar drake making his way to their table, quickly pulling her out of her headspace. She leaned over and straightened the items on the tablecloth in front of her, tidying up their space a bit. “Hi, Malakai,” Amika said, smiling up at him. Malakai beamed and leaned down to speak to them at eye level. “You ladies having fun today?” His snout was almost a foot away from her face, and nearly four times her size, but she felt nothing but trust in his presence—a true testament
of his character. A surge of radiant awe pulled the corner of her mouth into a reverent grin as she took in the beautiful ridges and tiny ice crystal growths along his jawline. She was mesmerized by the iridescent blue shimmer of his scales and simply could not look away. “We’re trying to,” she said warmly. Malakai nodded over in the direction of the Southend steps. “How is Dragon doing?” Amika and Annalene exchanged a glance while plating Malakai’s food. Dragon was clearly struggling with an intense conversation with Azric. He grabbed his plate and a cup of juice. “Is that her boyfriend?” “Who? Azric? No way,” Annalene fumed cupping a hand over her eyes to keep the sun from blocking her view of him. “He doesn’t deserve her.” Malakai smiled in relief. “Oh, okay. Good.” He watched Dragon and Azric closely before turning his gaze back to the girls. “He doesn’t look like that great of a guy.” He took a large slurp of his juice and sniffed in disgust. “And that’s just from looking at him from a distance.” Annalene stifled her grin.” You’re not far off there, pal.” “Looks like they’re having a bit of a disagreement, though,” he said, concerned. “Annalene. Are you okay?” Amika patted her on the back. She had choked on some of her lunch while supervising the conversation between Dragon and Azric. “Don’t tell me Dragon’s crying,” Annalene growled and threw her last bits of sandwich on the table. The sharp gleam in her eye was aimed in their direction and ready for a fight. “What! He’s giving her a present?” Annalene said hoarsely between coughs. “Is that the book we made her?” “So, they are good tears?” Malakai said, his brow furrowed with confusion.
Amika’s gaze darted between her group and the conversation in the distance. “Huh? Who gave who what?” she said, trying to follow along. “I’m so confused. What’s happening?” “Her gift. They book we made her with the leaves and the paper. Remember?” A flash of realization struck Amika. “Oh, okay. Right. For her birthday. Wait. Why is he trying to give her that? He’s ruining the surprise.” “Exactly,” Annalene fumed. “I can’t believe we helped him with that. Da and his great ideas to try and make nice with that nasty old bugger.” Malakai’s face brightened, and his pointy, blue ears perked up. “Birthday? Dragon’s birthday is coming up?” Annalene smiled, distracted by the smitten, ice-breathing dragon. “Yes, sir. Less than a moon away.” Annalene glared at Dragon and Azric sitting on the South Wing steps. “Oh, he better not show up for her party. Da will be furious.” “I hope not. That would devastate Dragon, for sure,” Amika agreed. Amika’s face saddened. “You know, that was the last time we hung out before things got all topsy turvy.” “When we made the pages for that journal?” Annalene smiled; her anger cooled. Amika clutched her elbows tight. “Yeah. I miss those days.” “Me too.” “They look like they’re getting pretty close,” Malakai said with a hint of jealousy in his voice, drawing the girls’ attention back to the conflict. “Dragon and Azric?” Annalene scowled. “No way. If you knew what he did to her in class …” His eyes widened in horror. “I’m sorry, what? What happened in class?” Annalene turned away abruptly when Dragon looked over. “Never mind. That’s not my place to talk about. I shouldn’t have brought it up.” She
started picking up some of the mess on the table. “I’m just mad he’s getting the credit for all of our hard work.” Annalene circled to the front of their table. Malakai fidgeted with the food on his plate. “You mentioned your Da being upset if he goes to the party.” He gazed down at Annalene shyly. “Would it be okay if I joined you all?” “Oh my gosh, Carrick was right.” Amika ran up next to Annalene and spun the unsuspecting gnome around to look at a group gathered by a heap of discarded rubbish. “Whoa. Look at those satyrs go.” Both girls had missed the important and vulnerable question Malakai had asked. “That one just ate the same cup Azric was drinking out of. Yuck. How can they eat those things?” One of the food-drunk satyrs happened to stagger by as Annalene rudely pointed her finger at them. Malakai set his dishes on the table; a wounded look on his face. “I have to get back to work. I will see you guys later. Tell Dragon hi for me, okay?” “Oh, hey, Malakai. You should join us for her birthday. Park Center in Gnome Colony. Don’t be late,” Annalene called. Malakai excitedly exhaled little clouds of icy breath. “Really? Okay. I’ll see you all. Then.” He wiggled his backside as he made his way back to his workstation. The satyr clomped up and turned his nose up at the girls. “What have we got here? Food station?” He snorted. “That’s disgusting. How can you eat those things?” he mocked and crunched into a piece of singed metal before trotting clumsily away, leaving the girls rolling with laughter. “Oh, goodness.” Annalene wiped happy tears from her eyes with the heels of her hands.
“It seems like it’s been forever since we’ve laughed that hard.” “I know.” Amika continued laughing. “We need to do that more often.” Dragon approached the table and grabbed a plate of food. “You need to do what more often?” Dragon asked as she took a bite. “Oh, nothing.” Amika and Annalene looked at each other and busted out laughing again. “Satyrs!” they both shouted through their giggles. “Huh. I don’t get it.” Dragon finished half of her sandwich and held up her clipboard, changing the subject. “Three more signatures!” Amika and Annalene composed themselves after several more giggles and looked over the writing on the pressed paper: Sign Up for Project Breakthrough Amika smiled at the list of volunteer names scrawled on the paper. “I guess that means we’ll be meeting some new friends next year.” The three of them talked briefly before Dragon headed off to look for Mona. “Should we have brought up the gift?” Amika asked. The girls watched Dragon head in the direction of her favorite tree on campus. “Eh. Azric already made her cry. Better leave it alone.” Annalene and Amika abandoned their messy post and hunkered down under an evergreen to finish their lunches. “Ugh. We still have to clean up.” Annalene brushed crumbs off of her shirt into the grass. “Maybe we could just leave it all for the satyrs to take care of. I’m sure they could just eat everything.”
Amika chuckled. “As long as we don’t leave any actual food.” “Why is that so funny?” Annalene buckled over with more laughter. “I don’t know. It’s not, really.” The girls erupted in another bout of cackles. Annalene was nearly rolling on the grass. “I think we’re just exhausted and loopy at this point.” “Whew.” Amika grinned up at the setting sun in the pink stretch of sky. “What a day.” “So …” Annalene jabbed Amika in the side with her elbow and winked. “Larak, eh?” “Oh, stop it. He’s like ten times my size. I’m sure that matters to him. That would be like appreciating a pretty bug or something.” “But what if you could somehow be his size? What about then?” Amika shook her head. “Come on, let’s go clean up.” She pushed herself up off the ground and offered Annalene a hand up. “I can’t do that, so it’s off the table.” Annalene hopped up and linked her elbow through Amika’s, the two of them snort-laughed, and mimicked the satyr’s staggered sauntering all the way back to their workstation.
XIII Amika fought with her handful of paper streamers as they flapped in wild protest against the gazebo posts in Gnome City Square. The chilly breeze animated the flimsy decorations in such a way that they appeared to be cheering on and welcoming the crowd gathering for the party. For a dragon coming-of-age ceremony, there weren’t many dragons present, but a good majority of Gnome Colony families made a special effort to fill the gap. Some of the guests were assisting the Gaelens with filling the feast tables with prepared dishes, most of which were samplings of Dragon’s favorites, while other attendees took to their seats in front of the gazebo’s podium. The Gaelens had hoped to have Dragon’s party closer to her actual Hatch Day, which fell closer to the beginning of the new year, but due to recent heavy snowstorms, they had to postpone until things thawed out a bit in Gnome Colony, nearly three moons later. Despite the delayed celebration, it was a beautiful day to honor Dragon reaching her adolescence, a pivot point in her life where she would hopefully become more aware of her strengths as a young drakaina. Professor Culpepper and Mona had prepared speeches for Dragon. It was destined to be a day worth remembering. Everyone except Amika was in bright spirits. She struggled all morning to turn her sour mood around, but for some reason, nothing worked. It wasn’t until she saw Professor Culpepper, Mona, and Dragon bonding and talking about Dragon’s special day that she realized what was bothering her so much. Watching them from afar triggered Amika’s feelings of isolation and separation that she experienced at her own coming-of-age ceremony. Instead of being able to share the specialness and joy of the first
flitters and flutters of newly emerged wings with her peers, she ended up just being an awkward outsider at her party. “Snap out of it. This is Dragon’s big day. It’s not about you, Amika,” she scolded herself. “You’re going to go over there and talk and laugh and have a good time today, that’s it. Tomorrow you can be as gloomy as you want to, okay?” Amika’s stomach twisted with bitter envy as she watched Mona show off her too-small, polka-dotted gnome party hat for the others, causing all three dragons to erupt in laughter. Dragon was toying frequently with the small pouch around her neck, a telltale sign she was either nervous or excited. Amika pressed her fingertips against the twinge of pain in her chest as she watched the gnome families offer Dragon, one by one, their well wishes and gifts of all sizes. More than anything, Amika wished she could contain her sorrow like one of Dragon’s brightly wrapped presents, complete with a perky bow. She felt selfish for allowing her own past to upset her enjoyment of the celebration, but no matter how hard she tried, she simply couldn’t push her feelings aside. She exhaled sharply. “Come on. You can do this.” Amika quickly tied off the remaining streamers on their posts, collected the rest of her decoration supplies, and headed over to socialize. She was determined not to let her bad mood ruin Dragon’s day. Amika forced a smile and walked up just as Aideen set Dragon’s special birthday cake in the middle of the table, right next to Carrick’s surprise bookshelf. “Wow! That’s beautiful!” Amika leaned over and studied the design of the icing: It had been piped on in such a way that it looked like all three tiers were covered in colorful dragon scales. “And delicious.” Carrick pretended to stick his pinky finger in the icing for a taste. Aideen swatted at his hand. “Don’t you dare. I worked all day on that cake.” She quickly went back to arranging the other platters and bowls of sweet breads and snacks.
Professor Culpepper picked up a handful of confetti off the table and sprinkled it all over Dragon’s head, causing her to giggle and shake her body vigorously like a wet animal. “Don’t get that in Ma’s cake or you’ll never hear the end of it,” Carrick teased, tickling Aideen’s side. “Carrick! You beast!” Aideen squealed. “Oh, go on and play with the kids, why don’t you?” She flicked her dishcloth at Carrick to shoo him away from the snack table. Carrick cocked his polka-dotted party hat to the side, jumped, and clicked his heels together before running over to join the gnome children who were clapping and dancing around in a circle in the courtyard. A passing breeze tickled Amika’s cheek with a strand of her hair, sending a shiver down her back. Surrounded by such joy and love, Amika recognized her emotional heaviness felt way out of place. She understood why she loved being around the Gaelens so much. They were the closest thing to family that she had. Outside of Professor Woodsong and some of the staff at Seelie Home, Amika lacked that kind of connection in Fae Colony, and she all too often wished she were more gnome than fae. The oddest thing was, she would have never known what she was missing out on if she somehow happened to never become friends with Annalene in the first place. That awareness brought a tinge of bittersweet ache to her heart. Amika’s memories of Merry Fair resurfaced as she watched Carrick and the young gnomes play in the grass. She remembered painfully how she had reached back to touch her shoulder blades on that day in a vain attempt to somehow find some sort of a wing nub. This time-of-year was always especially difficult for Amika—Fae Colony’s annual Merry Fair would again be celebrated by the next moon, and Amika was both nervous and excited for the new First Buds who would be leaving Seelie Home to join the ranks at Cosantrai Conservatory.
Amika quickly wiped the tears from her face with the back of her hand and put on her best smile as Annalene waved and jogged over from the gazebo. “Want to come sit with me?” Annalene took a moment to catch her breath and tugged Amika toward the rows of chairs. Amika was relieved that she and Annalene had resolved their fight; it had been difficult for her when she felt like she had lost her best friend. On their way to sit down, the girls stopped at a table that displayed sketched portraits of Dragon at all of the stages of her life. There was also a slice of Berrywine willow tree trunk available with quills and ink, so that guests could sign their names, as a wonderful and sentimental keepsake for Dragon to keep in her cave. The same picture from Annalene’s room, the image of her and Dragon playing dress up, was one of many wonderful sketches on display. Annalene picked up the sketched image and grinned ear to ear. “This will always be my favorite.” A playful squeal burst out of the crowd of children behind Amika, catching her attention. Several pairs of twins ran around and played tag with each other—identical sisters or brothers claimed their siblings as their official teammates in the fun game of chase. Something struck Amika while she watched the children dodge and duck the many attempts of becoming it. “Annalene. I never noticed before. How come there are so many twins?” Annalene’s smile faded. “Twins are common for gnomes.” “They are? But how come you …” Annalene looked Amika in the eyes and chewed on her lip, attempting to hide her quivering chin. “We don’t talk about it much. It’s painful for Ma.” Amika cocked her head. “What are you …” “I never told you, but I had a sister.”
“What?” Amika felt as if the ground had dropped out from underneath her in that moment. Dizzy with grief, she reached out to her friend. “Annalene, I’m so sorry.” Annalene sniffed back her tears.“It’s okay. It was a long time ago.” She wiped her cheeks and beamed to cover up her true feelings. “Today is Dragon’s day.” Amika placed a hand on her shoulder in comfort. “Annalene, it’s okay to grieve.” Annalene got quiet for several moments before speaking. “We lost Róisín a year before we found Dragon. She got sick,” Annalene’s voice wavered and trailed off. Taking several deep breaths, she attempted to continue her story, “Ma didn’t think she would love again the same way that she loved us both.” She wiped her tears with the edge of her sleeve. “Something changed when she passed on. Neither Da nor Ma was the same. I guess I understand. I mean, how do you move on when you’ve lost a child? You just do the best you can, right?” She stared off into the distance and sighed. “Anyway. I don’t bring it up because we know how much it pains Ma’s heart. Ours too.” Annalene took Amika’s hand in hers. “But you and Dragon are the best Sisters I could—” She wiped her tears and attempted a smile. “This is a day of celebration. Let’s talk of other things.” “Welcome, everyone! We are delighted to have you here with us on this wonderful day to celebrate Dragon Gaelen,” Elder Greenwood called out over the crowd and rapped his cane on the wooden podium to gain everyone’s attention. “Ooop. We better take our seats. Looks like they’re starting.” Annalene placed the picture back on the table, and the girls hurried over to take two empty seats toward the back, since most of the seats had already been taken.
They were there only a few moments when a friendly male gnome approached. “We have a special section for family. Please, come with me, Annalene.” Annalene looked at Amika apologetically without saying a word. “It’s okay. I’ll be fine back here. I’ll see you at the reception.” Amika attempted her best smile to persuade Annalene to leave. “You sure? I can stay here with you.” “I’m sure. You go be with your family. This is Dragon’s day, and you need to be there for her.” Annalene gave Amika a big squeeze and kiss on the cheek. “Love you. See you after, okay?” Amika wiped a tear from her cheek as she watched Dragon’s face brighten up when Annalene sat next to her. Once again, Amika found herself watching on the outside from the sidelines. Just as Carrick had promised, the dragon-scaled cake was absolutely delicious. Amika had to fight the urge to get herself a second piece. She licked the icing off of her fork and debated going back for more when something shifted in the air. Amika’s gaze flicked to Dragon’s upturned head. She was peering up at the sky. “Malakai,” Amika said, smiling to herself. Shield up. Amika kept her eyes locked on Dragon, who was biting on her talons and pacing at this point. Da and Aideen turned to look. “Well, that’s a nice surprise, right Dragon?” Carrick said.
Malakai circled and shot through the luminous clouds above, the streaming sunlight reflected off the swirl of color on his scales. From where she stood, Amika could see why Dragon was spellbound by him. His presence in the sky was majestic and incredibly beautiful to witness. Amika’s immediate reaction to Malakai made her wonder if she was seeing him from Dragon’s lens empathetically or if she was seeing things from her own perspective. Either way, his poised dance above them was stunning to watch. Amika chuckled to herself as she wondered if he was doing it to try and impress his audience and intentionally catch Dragon’s eye. Malakai offered his audience of gnomes, who were clapping and cheering on the spectacle in the sky, one more set of loops before descending into the open greenspace in front of the speaker’s podium. Dragon’s face flushed scarlet as she scanned the crowd of onlookers. Many of the closest gnomes within earshot shifted in their seats, exchanging a hushed murmur of gossip with each other. A surge of butterflies rushed through Amika’s stomach. It was unmistakable, no matter how thick Amika’s barriers were, there was no stopping the intensity between Dragon and Malakai. She reflected on their interactions while contemplating her feelings for Larak. A strong desire to be alone pulled at her. Perhaps she should let her feelings for Larak be. Maybe all her emotions would ultimately lead to was pain. The tightness in Amika’s chest became unbearable. “I want to go home.” “Go home? But we haven’t even started …”Annalene protested, grabbing Amika’s hand. “Being around this crowd is starting to make me uncomfortable,” Amika lied, fighting the urge to run was becoming impossible. “I need to check on Solas, too. He probably needs to be let out by now.”
Annalene nodded. “Okay, I’m sorry things turned out the way they did.” She gave Amika a hug goodbye. “Come visit when you feel up to it, okay?” “Tomorrow’s opening day at the market. I know you signed up to offer some setup help in the morning. Do you want to meet me there? I could offer a hand?” Amika said. Annalene flashed a hopeful smile. “Sure. That would be nice.” Amika gave Annalene a squeeze goodbye. “I’ll see you later, okay?” She waved to everyone and glanced over at Dragon and Aideen. “Happy Hatch Day, Dragon!” Dragon beamed and waved. Amika hung her head and slowly returned to her pedal cart, seeking refuge in her thoughts. She realized she needed to let go of her feelings for Larak, as pursuing anything with him was impossible. She understood that leaving Dragon’s birthday celebration might lead to conflict, but she could no longer pretend to be okay. She was a fae. He was a centaur. What was she thinking, anyway? Amika’s legs pumped her frustration out as she pedaled her way toward the Crescent Call riverbank. When she rounded the hilly path and reached the stony banks, she stopped. The rushing water seemed to call to her. Without caring about ruining one of her best pairs of dressy pants, she walked to the river and slowly waded in. In need of something tangible to help release her feelings, she bent down and picked up a stone from the clear, green water. Holding the damp stone to her chest, she visualized Larak and channeled all the emotions he had evoked in her since their meeting at Breezemaple. She hoped to redirect that energy into the stone. Somehow, she felt that by doing this, she could set herself free. As she bent down to place the stone back in the water, a cold distance settled over her heart. This had to be goodbye. A familiar energy washed over
her, as if his presence had joined her for this ritual. Instantly, her heart clenched at the thought of letting him go. Why did he have such a hold on her? They barely knew each other, yet their connection was undeniable. It felt as if she were giving up on something before even seeing where it could lead. Conflicting thoughts about the possibilities with Larak clashed in her mind, bringing her to her knees. She felt torn between the urge to let him go and the desire to hold on. Trying to visualize him standing in front of her released a fresh torrent of sobs. The thought of ending something new before giving it a fighting chance tore her apart like nothing she had ever experienced. Amika closed her eyes and focused on the flutter in her stomach as she recalled the last time she saw him. His image flashed for a brief moment, ushering in a comforting warmth, reminiscent of a familiarity she wanted desperately to embrace. She felt a stirring in her heart—an aching desire to talk with him, to have him by her side in that moment. She allowed her imagination to transport her to a place where she could approach him. The flutter in her heart intensified when she saw him within arm’s reach. As he approached, she gazed into his eyes, and a sudden realization hit her like a jolt of lightning. She was standing at his height, face to face with him, something she had dreamed of but never thought possible. It was a bittersweet daydream that she longed to see become reality. Understanding that a future together was impossible, she clutched her aching heart and tried to convey the image of him in her mind. To say goodbye. His gaze saddened, and he seemed to grasp what she was trying to communicate without her even saying a word. Amika tried to pull away, but he grasped her hand, intertwining his fingers with hers. This gentle action prompted her eyes to flutter open. Without exchanging any words, she understood he wanted her to hold on.
The sunlight glittered on the crests of the rippling water as Amika wound her way around the widest bend of Crescent Call River toward her house. The wind whipped through her long hair, lending her a sense of much-needed freedom and release. As she peddled fiercely along the misty path in Fairyway Woods, a crimson flash on the side of the path caught her eye. Amika slowed her pace and came to a stop. Leaning over the passenger seat, she took a closer look. “That’s odd. All the Kismet leaves are gone by this time of year.” She pulled her cart off the road and stepped out to inspect the vibrant leaf. As she approached, she noticed the red flash was not what she expected at all. “A feather? Where did that come from?” Amika craned her neck, searching the tall treetops for its owner. The breeze swayed the outstretched limbs back and forth, but nothing red stood out among the thick, green foliage. Running her fingers along the edge of the vane, she wondered if Lozrik could show her how to make a quill out of it. Suddenly, a mild jolt of electricity surged through her body, causing her fingers to tingle and making her drop the feather onto the ground. She knelt to pick it up. “Purple?” Amika instinctively threw it away. “What? This thing changes colors?” The barbs of the vane shifted hues, changing from a deep plum to a bright flame orange, confirming that this was no ordinary feather. Everything around her froze, the world holding its breath. The feather lifted off the ground, swirling in an invisible whirlwind. Its vibrant colors pulsed wildly, matching Amika’s racing heartbeat. Suddenly, an explosive force erupted from the feather’s core, unleashing a blinding flash of light that sent Amika stumbling backward to the ground. “Argh! Oww!” She clutched her injured arm. Blood trickled down and dripped from her elbow as she pried out the gravel shards that dug in like tiny daggers. Dusting off her pants, she sprang back to her feet.
The feather lay nearby and flickered a bright flash before it returned to its deep crimson shade. “Uh.” She stared at the oddly mesmerizing object, her heart racing. “I have to show this to someone.”
XIV Amika thrashed the covers off of her and screamed. Heart pounding, she bolted upright and searched her room for something familiar to ground her back into reality. Solas tore into the room in a sleepy, scuttling panic. “I’m up! I’m up! What happened?” “A dream!” she yelped. “It was just a dream!” she mind-shared with Solas after steadying her nerves. “Oh.” Solas yawned and burrowed under her discarded covers. “Are you okay, then?” Her hands trembled as she flicked the flint pieces together to create a spark for the wick of her side-table candle. That’s when she saw the markings. Amika set her lit candle down and sat on the edge of her bed, staring down at her writing arm. She took in several shaky breaths to try and calm herself down. The place where she had been wounded now bore a stunning transformation, as if overnight her arm had become a canvas of extraordinary, ornate, light blue patterns and markings. The intricate designs seemed to dance along her skin, forming a delicate cuff that encircled the upper part of her forearm. Each swirl and curl of the patterns appeared to glimmer faintly in the light, as if infused with an otherworldly luminescence. The script was unlike anything she had ever seen, composed of swirling letters and flowing lines that weaved together in a rhythmic harmony. It was a language that resonated deep within her, evoking a sense of both familiarity and alienation, as though it were a forgotten part of her heritage that had suddenly been brought to light. With every glance at her
forearm, she felt a wave of emotion wash over her—wonder, fear, and a tingle of recognition. The transformation was not merely cosmetic; it spoke of deeper meanings and secrets yet to be uncovered, promising both connection to something greater and a foreboding sense of what was to come. Amika sprang from her bed, seized her candle, and dashed out of her room. The sound of Solas’s claws echoed behind her as she hurried to the kitchen. A surge of relief flooded her when she saw her bag, safely concealing the enigmatic feather. It hadn’t flickered, exploded, or given off any ominous signs. If it had, she would have abandoned it by the river, aware of the potential danger it posed. Amika dug through her bag for some loose parchment and a writing quill. “I need to write it down,” she said aloud as she grabbed her writing supplies and set them down on the couch. Solas was at her heels. “What’s that?” Amika spun around and saw him peering up at the exposed feather tip. She rushed over and quickly tucked it back out of sight. “Nothing. Never mind.” She slung the strap over her shoulder and walked over to her bookshelf with a water pitcher where her dry inkwell sat. Hugging the bag protectively, she poured a small amount of thyme oil into the inkwell. She mixed in the powdered shaggy mane inky cap mushrooms and sloshed the ingredients around with the tip of her finger. “That’s gonna stain,” Solas warned. “It’s fine, Solas. It’ll go away after a couple of days.” Amika quickly dipped the tip of the quill into the ink and began to scrawl out the words of her dream: I’m in Mystery Grove. It’s sunset. Larak is with me. We are sitting and watching the rows of growing Will-o’-the-wisps. They are planted in the ground
in some sort of sundial pattern. The pattern swirls in a clockwise direction, and a portal opens. But to where? I’m not sure what we are doing there, since Larak would never be allowed in Mystery Grove. He looks over at me and says, “Look at how humans treat their own when they embrace their magical gifts. They are put to death. What do you think they would do to us? To them, all of this is nonsense. Humans need to move outside of their knowledge of what they think exists and trust more from here.” Larak then points to his heart. He continues talking, “You even say the word magic there, and you could be punished.” All of these emotions rise up in me. I have to defend the Creatives. “Larak, you can't assume that you know everything about that realm. There's no way to know everything, just like they don't know everything about us.” Larak pulls over a standup drum and puts it in front of himself. It’s from his colony. I don’t know how I know; I just do. He starts beating the drum with the heel of his hand. It sounds like my own heartbeat. The Will-o’-the-wisps in front of us start to dance to the beat. One in particular holds my attention. It starts to change colors. The same colors as the feather. The portal opens, and I see the demented face of Elder Shadrek. I look over at Larak, and now he is a faceless figure, almost completely transparent and glowing, but still beating the drum with his hand. I call out to him, but all he does is beat the drum. The Will-o’-the-wisps start to lose all of their color and wilt in front of us. The Mystery Grove grounds are suddenly covered in shadow. Everything starts to freeze over from the north, like wicked cold veins tracking through the land, snuffing the life out as soon as it wraps around and through everything. I want to stop it, but I can’t move. I start to hear music and a name being called out. By whom, I don’t know. “Moirai. Moirai. Moirai,” over and over. I recognize the name but can’t remember why. Everything goes dark.
I’m curled up in a ball on the ground at the marketplace. No one is around me. I am alone. I can hear the wind whipping through the booths. I call out the name Moirai. No one answers. All of a sudden, I start thrashing and fighting. No one is with me. I am screaming and trying to get free. That’s when I wake up. Amika set the quill down atop her writing, causing the curled edges of the paper to roll the writing utensil to the center of the page. “Moirai.” “Moirai?” Solas nuzzled against her ankle. “What’s Moirai?” “More like who.” Amika stared into the distance, lost in a blurred haze of post-dream fog. “Just a friend I haven’t talked to in quite some time.” Amika leaned over and blew out the candle with a single puff. Amika pushed her sleeves up her forearms and lifted the heavy box of pickled goods off the ground, carrying it over to the nearest booth table. Amika always enjoyed opening day at the Market, even though it was too early in the season for the full variety of fresh produce typically available mid-Aestivus. Amika looked forward to sampling some of the delicious goods- specialty dried, pickled, and preserved items- that the vendors always gifted her in exchange for her willingness to show up and offer another set of hands for their early morning setup. “What happened?” a familiar voice called from behind her. Amika set the box down and turned around. Annalene waved from the adjacent booth that was the assigned space for Gaelens’ goods. Amika quickly tugged her sleeve down to cover her bandaged arm and walked over to give Annalene a hug. Annalene set her basket of honey and dried teas on top of her booth table; her brows furrowed with concern. “Amika. Your arm?” Amika tried to hide her arm behind her back. “It’s nothing.”
Annalene tried to tug Amika’s sleeve up for a peek. “It doesn’t look like nothing.” Amika attempted to pull away in time, but Annalene’s fingers caught the edge of the wrapped bandage, pulling it off to expose Amika’s forearm. Annalene gasped. “Whoa. What is that?” Amika jerked her arm up and examined the ornate markings that extended up toward her bicep. She traced the intricate design with her fingertip before tucking her arm behind her back. The strange pattern was the exact color of the dark quill ink that had stained her finger the night before, blending seamlessly with the rest of her skin. The light blue markings that had surrounded her wound the previous night had taken on the same hue, and the ink was nowhere to be found on her fingertip, as if it had been absorbed into her flesh, like she had become a quill. “Did you draw that on your arm?” “Um. I—I don’t understand what happened. I didn’t do this,” Amika said, clutching her forearm close. “Amika Briskbane?” A tense-jawed Regent, flanked by two of his armed guards, approached Annalene’s booth. His sharp, chiseled features were accentuated by the harsh light, drawing attention to the authority of his presence. The guards’ heavy boots thudded against the ground as they approached Annalene's booth, echoing ominously in the crowded marketplace. All eyes turned toward the trio, sensing the unspoken tension that hung thick in the air. Annalene tried to shoo the unexpected guests away. “I’m sorry, we’re not open yet …” The uniformed guards raised their pointed staffs, thrusting them toward the girls’ faces. The leader of the group charged at Amika, twisting her marked arm behind her back and forcing her to her knees. “Arrghhh! What are you doing?”
“Hey! Let go of her!” Annalene cried. “In the name of Elder Windrunner, you are coming with us …” Amika thrashed in the Regent’s grip. “Amika!” Annalene cried. The armed guard closest to Annalene rushed to restrain her. Both girls yelled and fought to break free as a crowd of onlookers gathered and gossiped in shock. “On Elder Windrunner’s order, you will come quietly.” He pinned Amika’s arms down behind her back with his bony knee and quickly bound her wrists in thorny vines. Amika yelped and struggled helplessly as the Regent tightened the restraints until they cut into her flesh. The more she moved, the more they pulled taut and pierced her wrists. He pushed himself up from the ground and yanked her up by her elbow. “What are you taking me in for? What have I done?” Amika screamed and kicked at the booth awning as she fought for her freedom. She knocked over the table, sending Annalene’s entire stock of succulent honey to the floor, forming a sharp and sticky puddle. The Regent switched spots with the guard who had originally detained Annalene and constricted the shaky gnome with his muscular arms to keep her from running after Amika. “Annalene! Get help!” Amika bawled and bucked in the guards’ grips. Amika’s head spun; a strange sense of déjà vu flashed as she writhed and kicked at the gaurds’ feet and legs. Dragged away by the crooks of her arms, Amika realized her dream had come as a warning.
The armed guard stood tall, his physique both imposing and calculated. It was completely ironic that the only fae Amika found appealing in Fae Colony so far would be the one detaining her. He wore a crisp uniform that starkly contrasted with the grim surroundings of the prison. The forest green fabric was adorned with gold insignias and embroidered Celtic knotwork, which gleamed under the dim lights. A perfectly polished badge rested on his chest, reflecting his authority. His hair was neatly cropped, showcasing sharp features and striking violet eyes that seemed to analyze every aspect of the environment. As he approached the cell, the sound of his polished boots echoed softly in the stark corridor. He slid a plate of spoiled food under the heavy iron door, the metallic clank resonating in the otherwise silent space. The smell wafted through the air—a pungent mix of decay and neglect—filling the cramped cell with an oppressive reminder of Amika's dire situation. “Eat,” he growled. Amika glared at him through the bars and kicked the disgusting food away, wiping her tears with her sleeve. Not as attractive as she thought. She slumped down on the ground and pulled her knees to her chest, careful not to extend her feet into the corner where remnants of previous inmates’ waste stained the floor. Amika debated pulling the threadbare blanket off the thin floor cushion to fashion herself with a crude form of comfort. She didn’t have to lean in too close before a whiff of pungent urine sent her reeling backward in disgust. She sat there helpless, as time stretched on without any further explanation or clarity as to why she had been brought there. Without warning, the metal door clanged open. “Elder Windrunner will see you now.” A tight-lipped fae nurse stepped inside the cell with an armful of first-aid supplies. “Let’s clean you up first.”
Amika winced as the nurse dabbed a potent, stinging agent on her restraint-inflicted wounds. “Do you know why I’m here?” Amika failed to gain the unsmiling worker’s sympathy. “Let’s go.” The guard stepped in and clanked a new set of handcuffs on her wrists. Even though the cuffs rubbed against her tended wounds, she was grateful her arms were bound in front this time. The guard guided Amika by her elbow through a double-paned, green-glassed breezeway. She peered through the glass, hoping to find the sprawling tiered gardens that led to Mystery Grove, but found a run-down, grassy dining area for the inmates instead. Amika shuddered and immediately turned away when she caught a patch-eyed snake-like creature staring at her. “Where am I?” The guard clenched his jaw, further denying her request for answers. It seemed like cold indifference was a fundamental staple in this building. He knocked on a large door three times and pulled Amika closer. “I’m not gonna try and run,” Amika said in a quiet voice. The guard grumbled at Amika and waited for Elder Windrunner to grant them entrance into her office. “Bring her in,” Elder Windrunner called through the closed door. Amika’s gut twisted at the sound of her voice. The guard pushed the door open and escorted Amika into the office. Elder Windrunner leaned back in her chair and looked down the bridge of her nose at them. Amika was expecting the elder to be wearing the same uniform as the guard, but she was adorned in a flowing, lilac linen suit. Placing a stack of papers into a file marked CONFIDENTIAL, Elder Windrunner rose from behind her polished wood desk and waved them in. Accented by warm tones and dim lighting, the room offered a strange and soothing respite from the stark, cold environment of the rest of the prison. The place offered Amika immediate dissonance in her attempt to try
and connect the Elder’s frigid stature with her office. Elder Windrunner thumbed through the built-in cabinet at her desk and slipped the folder into its rightful place before scratching a note down on a piece of parchment on her desk. “Ms. Briskbane, you will be released to attend your arraignment in three hours.” Elder Windrunner’s stern tone intimidated Amika. “Elder Windrunner? Excuse me. Um. I still don’t know what I’ve done?” Elder Windrunner’s eyes flicked up at Amika; her cold gaze immediately silenced her. “You will arrive at the courthouse in three hours’ time. Failure to appear will lead to immediate detainment.” She scratched at an itch in her tight, platinum-grey bun with her sharp nail. “Are we clear?” Elder Windrunner ignored Amika’s sniffling and pulled open her desk drawer to retrieve her official seal stamp and stick of burgundy sealing wax. She popped her scribbled note into an envelope and held the wax stick briefly near the flame of her desk lamp candle. Drops of the melted wax pooled on the back of the envelope like a small lake of blood. She pressed the seal into the wax, then handed the guard the envelope. “Make sure this gets to High Order Brickback.”
XV “Ten minutes, Ms. Briskbane.” Amika sat, cross-legged, on the polished marble floor and stared at the wall, shutting out the hundreds of passersby wandering the hallways of the courthouse. Her only means of entertainment while she waited was to fixate on the excessive ornamented details of the crown molding or to try and guess what each of the shackled defendants was being tried for. She leered up at guard. “So, what’s in the envelope?” He growled his disapproval of her attempt at small talk. Amika blew wisps of her bangs out of her eyes and stared up at the ceiling, finding new decorative elements of the building’s unique architecture to focus her attention on. A gavel sounded from behind the closed doors, sending a rush of spectators from the courtroom gallery. “Amika? What are you doing here?” Amika immediately recognized the voice and slowly looked to her left. Her stomach dropped to her feet, and her face flushed hot with embarrassment. “Oh, no,” she said under her breath. “Hey Larak,” she said, awkwardly staring down at her knees. “Are—are those handcuffs? What’s going on?” Amika sighed heavily. “It’s a long story. And frankly, I don’t even really know why I’m here yet.” She thumbed back at the courtroom. “I’m next, though.” Larak eyed the guard as he tested his boundaries. “Well, do you want me to stick around?”
A rush of memory flooded Amika as she recalled the vision that she had of Larak at the river. “I mean, I guess that would be okay. I’m not sure how I would get home anyway. What are you doing here?” Larak offered a single nod at the oncoming crowd. “Hey, Kicker. Glad they let you off.” Amika cringed when she saw who Larak was addressing- the same creepy snake-creature she had seen in the inmate lunchroom had just slithered out of the courtroom and joined them. The sleazy-looking character chuckled and winked his only good eye. “Got a way with words.” He nodded them farewell and slinked away down the hallway, escaping the grips of the law with each slither through the crowd. Amika gawked in disgust. “What is that thing?” “He’s a lindworm.” “Lindworm. Okay.” Amika cocked her head to the side. “Friend of yours?” “Sort of. Let’s just say we have a lot in common. I came by to see what his verdict was,” Larak explained. Amika raised an eyebrow. “I’m failing to see the connection.” As she stared up at Larak, the faceless figure from her dream flashed in her mind. The vision from the river had haunted her, but she had completely forgotten that dream. She shook the memory from her head and decided to seize the opportunity to fact-check another aspect of her dream. “Hey, so completely random question.” Larak nodded toward the courtroom, reminding her that she was up next. “Yeah?” “Do you—do you make drums?” His brow furrowed with a look of confusion. “Me, particularly?” “Well, not necessarily. In Centaur Colony. Do you make drums there?”
Larak played with his goatee and smiled. “Actually, yes. It’s one of the things we are known for. Handmade rabbit-skin drums. Why?” Her face blanched. “Um. No reason.” The grim-faced guard waved her toward him. “Ms. Briskbane. It’s time.” Amika gulped and tried to steady her hands. “Hey, I’ll be out here, okay? Don’t worry, whatever happens, everything will be okay.” His reassurance sent warm tingles through her body. “Thanks, Larak. I appreciate that.” He nodded and flashed a charming smile. “See you in a bit, Amika.” Amika chewed on her lip as the guard guided her through the galley. The courtroom was empty except for a few Scribes and an Archivist, on site and ready to capture the details of Amika’s trial. Amika yielded to the restraints at her seat near the counsel table and glanced around the room. She met eyes with the courtroom clerk, who immediately turned away and cleared her throat, focusing her gaze on her work of preparing the court transcript. Two agents of the court, stocky in their build, secured the courtroom door, cutting off Amika’s view of Larak, who was watching from outside. “All Rise!” The larger of the two agents of the court hollered. An obese cyclops, donning a stylish pinstripe suit, took his seat behind the bench and adjusted his monocle. Amika’s heart stopped for a moment. “Not this guy.” It was the same cyclops from the portrait at Breezemaple that had made Amika uneasy. The guard glowered at her for her disrespect and unshackled her ankles so she could stand.
“Court is now in session, the High Order Brickback presiding,” the agent of the court announced. “Everyone but the jury may be seated.” High Order Brickback addressed the court and nodded at the court agent. “Please proceed in swearing in the jury.” The burly court agent turned to the jury box, where a number of unrecognizable fae sat in silence. “Do you solemnly swear to listen to this case and render a proper verdict and an appropriate sentence for the defendant?” the court agent asked. The jury raised their right hands and declared their unanimous agreement to the terms. “Thank you. Please be seated.” The court agent tugged the bottom of his suit jacket over his plump belly and returned to his post on the left side of the judge’s bench. High Order Brickback turned to the jury box. “You have been selected to determine whether the defendant is guilty or not guilty based on the facts and evidence provided here today.” The judge nodded his balding head at the weasel-faced fae attorney sitting at the adjacent counsel table. “Prosecutor Darius Exhauriat has the burden of proving the guilt of the defendant beyond a reasonable doubt.” The greasy-haired prosecutor nodded at the judge and smirked. “Indeed.” The judge continued. “However, if you are not convinced of the defendant’s guilt, then reasonable doubt exists and the defendant must be found not guilty.” Prosecutor Exhauriat frowned. High Order Brickback polished his monocle. “Prosecutor Exhauriat, what is today’s case?” The lanky attorney rose to his feet and shuffled toward the bench. “Your High Order.” He groaned when he attempted to straighten his twisted spine to button his coat in the presence of the High Order. “Your High
Order, Amika Briskbane of Fae Colony is being charged with two counts of treason.” Amika bucked in her restraints, attempting to rise in her defense. “What!” she exclaimed, causing her appointed guard to raise his large hand to her face to prevent her from speaking out of turn. Prosecutor Exhauriat glared at her. “I intend to prove that she is, indeed, guilty of this crime.” High Order Brickback picked at the grime under his nails. “What evidence have you?” Amika’s guard stood. “Permission to approach the bench?” The judge nodded. “Proceed.” The guard left Amika’s side and handed the judge the sealed envelope. High Order Brickback read over the private writings of Elder Windrunner and glanced up at Amika, twisting his waxed mustache hair between his thumb and forefinger. “I see.” He held up the small piece of paper. “Members of the jury, I’ve been informed by Elder Starling Windrunner that Amika Briskbane, of Fae Colony, has been visiting Mystery Grove for unapproved visits with a …” He glanced back at the paper. “A Professor Woodsong. Which may have compromised the growth patterns of the Will-o’-the-wisps.” He handed the paper to the court agent. “Give this to the courtroom clerk to add to the record, please.” The Scribes and Archivist murmured with each other at the notated the offense. Amika became well aware that the guard was not there to help her win her case, but was in fact, doing his best to side with the opposing counsel. “I didn’t know that I couldn’t visit,” Amika replied defensively. “Ms. Briskbane,” High Order Brickback leaned forward in his seat, “you will not speak unless I give you the order. You understand me?” She fought back tears. “But how am I supposed to defend myself?”
High Order Brickback leaned forward in his chair and pressed both palms on his desk. “I said, do you understand me?” Amika slumped over in her chair and nodded in agreement, afraid of uttering anything else out of turn. “You don’t seem to understand the gravity of the situation, Ms. Briskbane. Will-o’-the-wisps have been found dead and dying. Specifically in the exact areas that we have been informed you’ve been visiting.” The prosecutor grinned devilishly as the judge chided her. The image of the colorless Will-o’-the-wisps from Amika’s dream flashed through her thoughts. “Dying? But I didn’t do anything. I didn’t touch them, I swear.” He slammed the gavel on the podium. “Silence! You will respect me! You will respect this court of law, child!” he snarled. He took several deep breaths and regained his composure. “Amika Briskbane, you are also being charged with treason due to the nature of your relationship with others. You have been discussing things with others that you are forbidden to discuss.” Amika sat upright. “Professor Woodsong?” “Objection! Defendant refuses to speak in turn.” Prosecutor Exhauriat dramatically waved his bony arms in the air. The judge held his hand up to silence the attorney’s outburst. “Let the courtroom Clerk add to the record that this charge is regarding Amika Briskbane’s relationships outside of Fae Colony,” High Order Brickback ordered. He glared down at her. “Please notate that her extreme displays of disobedience in the courtroom can attest to her character as well.” The jury gasped at his accusation and burst out in a hushed murmur. The prosecutor paced in front of the jury box. “Members of the jury, I would like to present further evidence of this crime.” “Bring in the evidence!” Prosecutor Exhauriat exclaimed. One of the side doors to the courtroom creaked open, and a chorus of Oracles entered the room in a single-file line, and stood before the jury.
The eyes of every single oracle went milky white, and they offered a collective replay of private mind-shared conversations captured between Amika and Solas. Amika immediately recognized the conversation. It was when she was divulging details of the fae to Solas while working on her class project. The guard unshackled Amika’s ankles once more and forced her into the witness chair near the bench. “You will tell the truth and nothing but the truth, so help me,” High Order Brickback growled. “Yes, your High Order.” Amika cowered as the agents of the court wheeled in a large crate. They unlatched the crate door and pulled out a sedated moonbug. “No! No! No! Solas! No!” “So you admit, Ms. Briskbane, that you recognize the evidence in front of you?” He pressed his fingertips together, beaming a satisfied grin. “Well, yes. Solas stayed with me while he was mending his wing. But there has to be some rule against prying into our minds to collect private conversations! They did not have our consent!” she protested in vain. “And when he was in your residence, you did, in fact, happen to mind-share with him?” Sweat beaded at her temples as she fidgeted in her restraints. “Yes, of course. Otherwise, we would have never been able to communicate with each other. It was necessary.” She turned and pleaded her case to the callous jury. “And was it absolutely necessary to discuss with the evidence in front of you the nature of the conservatory?” Amika’s face blanched. “I—I …” she stammered. “I didn’t know they could hear us.” The judge fiddled with his curled mustache and pressed her for an answer. “You will respond to the question, Ms. Briskbane.”
“I …” Amika hung her head in defeat, tears streaming down her cheeks. She rose her head slowly to mind-share with Solas, who struggled in the guards’ grips, “I’m so sorry.” “I captured an apology!” the appointed court interpreter exclaimed. The seated jury cried out in shock; the room buzzed with heated questions. “Order! I will have order in this court!” the judge growled. The gavel clacked loudly three times and the murmurs in the courthouse gradually settled to silence. “Now,” High Order Brickback pressed, “Ms. Briskbane. Answer the question.” She scanned the room, seeking compassion from the onlookers. Without official representation, Amika was forced to surrender the truth. “We did have conversations in my home, High Order.” Unrest erupted in the courtroom once more, and the prosecutor chuckled to himself in delight. “Take him away,” High Order Brickback commanded. Amika thrashed around on her hard, wooden seat. “No! Please. Leave him alone. He did nothing!” she cried in Solas’s defense. Amika attempted to get out of her seat, the resistance from her restraints forced her painfully into submission. “I’ll do anything. I admit it! I did it. I mind-shared forbidden information. But he never asked me to do it. I did it willingly. Please spare him, it was me!” she yelled across the bench at the heartless judge, the shackles that held her clanged and collided as she forced her point on him. The members of the jury shook their heads in disgust at her complete lack of control. Prosecutor Exhauriat watched with great amusement. He had her right where he wanted her. He nodded once at the judge. “Prosecution, you may begin with your closing statements.” High Order Brickback pointed his gavel at the attorney.
“Thank you, High Order.” The prosecutor turned to address the jury box. “Members of the jury, today you have seen and heard the evidence against the defendant. I implore you to consider the facts against her and find the defendant, Amika Briskbane of Fae Colony, guilty of two charges of treason. The evidence, known to the defendant as a moonbug named Solas, will be released to live on his own and is mandated by the court to never see her again.” High Order Brickback leaned over the podium and addressed Amika. “Amika Briskbane, what say you in your own defense?” Amika shook her head in defeat and sniffed back tears. “I’ll wait to see what the jury says.” “Courtroom clerk, let the record show that Amika Briskbane offered no defense to the case against her. That the court will adjourn and revisit this case in one moon’s time to witness the final verdict.” High Order Brickback rose from his seat and slammed the gavel once more on the podium. “That is all for today. Thank you, members of the jury.” The agents of the court released Solas from the crate. He gave his dizzy head a quick shake and staggered over to Amika’s feet. Amika’s guard unshackled her. Amika rubbed the aching parts of her clavicle and arms, where the restraint had done the most damage, and kneeled to scoop Solas up in her arms. “I’m so sorry, Solas. I never meant for this to happen.” She sobbed and clutched him tighter. “I’ll figure out some way to make this up to.” She petted his head lovingly and stared into his teary eyes. “I promise.”
XVI Amika set Solas’s food bowl on top of his bedding, closed the lid of the packing box, and set it on the floor. “It’s time, Solas.” His eyes glistened with tears as he looked up at her. “Do I really have to go?” She knelt and scooped him up for a cuddle. “It’s the only way to keep you safe. The Gaelens have some friends who can take care of you.” He nuzzled into her embrace. “I don’t want to go to Gnome Colony.” “Solas, let’s be reasonable now. Your other wing was damaged when they arrested you. You can’t fly.” She sniffed back the oncoming torrent of tears. “You won’t last very long out in the wild, and you know it.” Solas head-butted her arm in protest. “Why them? If I have to be someone’s pet, I want to be yours.” Amika set him back on the ground. “I know, Solas, I do. I wish that things weren’t changing so drastically so that you could live here with me.” “Can’t I stay with the Gaelens?” Amika pulled him in close for more reassuring pats. “That won’t work. It’ll be the first place the Regents will look if there’s any suspicion that we are still in contact with each other.” Amika teared up. “I broke the rules, Solas, I should have never told you anything about the fae, and I was wrong to have done so.” She took his scaly head in her hands. “I don’t know what the jury will determine, but I have a bad feeling it won’t be good. If they find out we are still interacting.” She leaned over and gave him a hug. “Trust me, please. You have to go.” She felt an uncomfortable, energetic tug at their mind-shared connection, as if he were
trying to break free from the conversation. She pulled back and waited for it to subside. Amika panicked at the thought that he was refusing to talk to her anymore. Solas let out a painful chirp, which erupted with a simultaneous mind-shared sob. “I don’t want to say goodbye!” His sorrow was emitted through several bursts of chitters and chirps. Amika choked back a sob, “I don’t want you to get hurt anymore, okay?” Waves of grief hit her as she held him, not knowing if this would be the last time together in her home. All three of the Gaelens were waiting on the porch when Amika pulled into the drive. Solas slumped over in his seat and looked up at Amika. It was the saddest look she had ever seen. “I know. This is going to be difficult. But it’s going to be okay.” “Is it?” he protested. Amika leaned over and touched foreheads with Solas for several minutes. She wiped tears from Solas’s eyes and kissed him on the top of the head. Carrick stepped toward the car to help Solas hop out. He walked reluctantly over to Aideen and plopped to the ground. He rested his head on his front feet and gave Amika a pouty look. Annalene quickly jumped into the passenger’s seat and hauled her backpack onto her lap. “Ready? I’ve got snacks.” “Just a sec.”
Amika rushed over and scooped Solas up for one more hug goodbye. “Please make sure your friends take good care of him.” “Don’t worry, Amika. He’ll be fine,” Carrick assured. Aideen gestured to a large bowl in the garden that had been set aside just for Solas. She winked and cupped her hand near her mouth like she was telling them a secret. “I’ve got a nice set of greens ready for him to eat before Odelia gets here for lunch.” Her face lit up. “I also made sure to tell them not to eat any dragonfly eggs while he’s there,” she said in a hushed voice. Amika’s heart ached as she waved goodbye and headed back to her pedal cart. “Thank you, guys. Truly. Love you, Solas. Always.” Amika called from the driver’s seat, kicking the pedal cart into gear. Saying it aloud seemed to make her feel a little bit better, even if he couldn’t fully understand her words. Solas sat back on his haunches and chirped his sad goodbyes as the girls rode off toward Fairway Woods. Amika hadn’t been to this part of the woods since the last time the Guardians at Seelie Home brought her class of faelings to meet the honored Moirai. As they made their way through the overgrown path, memories of hiking in the wilderness with her peers tugged at her every time she saw a familiar trail marker. The mossy rocks to her left meant that they were almost to the part of the trail that led through the large, open field on the outskirts of the hidden garden where Moirai lived. “Where do places get their names, do you s’pose?” Annalene flailed her arms around to remove a sticky cobweb from her face and kicked a rotten branch out of the way. “Places?” Amika called over her shoulder. “You know. Like Darragh? We’ve all just gotten used to it being called that. But who named it? You know, in the beginning?” Amika glanced over her shoulder at Annalene. “You remember me telling you about Desily, right?”
Annalene pulled out strands of grass from the bottom of her plaits. “Yes. She seemed lovely. I think I would have liked her.” “Oh, you would have for sure. Well, she told me when we took our first trip out here that this garden we are walking to. It’s where everything started.” “Everything? What do you mean everything?” “I dunno. It’s just what they told us when we were young. Maybe something just to keep us interested in the field trip. Who knows.” “You think it’s true?” Amika chuckled. “You know, if you ask those kinds of questions at my school, you’ll get in serious trouble.” Annalene stopped in her tracks. “Why can’t you ask stuff like that? That seems like a silly rule.” “I don’t know. You have to learn how to ask the right questions there. Like what color of ink does this parchment need? Or how many moon cycles before a Will-o’-the-wisp …” Amika faded off. “Before a Will-o’-the-wisp, what?” Annalene jogged a few extra steps to catch up to pace with Amika. Amika flinched and covered her mouth. “Never mind. Shouldn’t have even brought it up.” “Are you not supposed to talk about that stuff outside of Fae Colony?” “Yup. They have all these rules that we just have to follow. But we never get a clear understanding of why the rules are in place. Lots of secrecy.” Amika held her palm out to Annalene. “What?” “Can I have some snacks? You said you brought some,” she said, changing the subject. Annalene laughed. “Oh, yeah. Dried fruit and nuts, okay?”
Annalene pulled out a cloth clutch and dumped a handful onto Amika’s palm. Amika crunched on the food hungrily and then took a swig from her water pouch. “How much further?” Annalene asked, wiping sweat from her brow. “Not much. Just through that field right there, and then we’ll be in the garden.” Amika popped the rest of her handful of trail mix into her mouth. “Not much of a garden, really. Just a run-down place full of dead plants,” she uttered with her mouth full. “Maybe it was beautiful at one point?” “Who knows. Anyway, you ready?” Amika dusted off the crumbs from her hands on her pants. “Yup.” Annalene straightened her parted hair under her pointed hat. “Oh, hold on a sec.” Annalene bent over and gathered the fabric of the front of her long skirt in her hand. “What are you doing?” “It keeps getting snagged on things. Not so great for long hikes.” She pulled the skirt fabric back between her legs and wound it around, on either side of her waist, to tie in a knot in front. “Ta-da.”. She had transformed her long skirt into some odd-looking, bunched-up shorts. Amika smirked as Annalene twirled in a circle to show off her design. “I mean, I guess that works.” Annalene packed up her food pouch and slung her bag straps over her shoulders. “Hurry! Let’s go. Before my legs get chilly.” Annalene started off on the trail ahead of Amika, and the two headed out through the treetop into the wispy, amber field. Amika tugged the strap of her light shoulder bag tighter against her back to further secure its contents. She hadn’t mentioned the feather to Annalene yet, or the fact that she had brought it with them on their trip. Amika wasn’t sure why, but she had a feeling that Moirai may have some
insight about the meaning and power of the feather. At least her ominous dream seemed to imply that. Amika wanted to have it with her just in case it somehow made it into her conversation with Moirai. She certainly wasn’t about to leave it alone in her home, which she was sure was under strict Regent surveillance. “There it is.” Amika pointed at the anomaly in the middle of the field. A natural privacy border of tall evergreens obscured the high stone walls of the private garden. By the look of it, the design of the concealed grounds was far outside of fae or gnome construction capabilities. “What is this place?” Annalene gawked up at the unique entrance structure as they crossed through the circular stone gateway to the abandoned garden. “This is where Moirai lives,” Amika explained. Tamed to its original design, it would have been a fine place to sit and read. Moss-covered benches sat isolated between each of the rows of decaying flowerbeds. Roots of unruly flowering bushes wove over and through the remaining stone pathway. Amika used a long stick to help clear away the plants that choked the pebbled path and led the way to an isolated glass greenhouse. A family of ladybugs scuttled off of a rotten log and past the girls. Two of the five young beetles fought for territory as line leader while the parents danced around the others to keep them moving ahead on their journey. Annalene eyed the thorny vining plants that crowded the doorway and window frames and stood on her tiptoes to peer into the cracked and mud-streaked panes. “Right, but why are we here?” White paint flecked off most of the frame, and the edges looked as if the metal were covered in a plague of rust spots. Three crows cawed ominously as they crossed the threshold, as if offering a much-heeded warning. “I have to talk to her about something.”
“Okay, Ms. Vague. So Moirai is a female. What sort of creature is Moirai, anyway?” Amika fidgeted with her hands. “Um, well ...” Annalene shot her an alarmed look. “Is she really big or something?” Amika smiled slyly. “You could say that.” “Amika! Out with it! What aren’t you telling me?” “I’m afraid if I tell you what she is, you won’t come with me to meet her.” Annalene’s eyebrows shot up. “Is she something that would eat us?” “I mean, I don’t think so?” “You don’t think so?” Annalene screeched. “Amika! No way I’m going any further. Not unless you tell me what we’re up against.” She crossed her arms and plopped to the ground defiantly. “She’s never attempted to harm me, anyway.” Amika held her hand out to help Annalene back up. “Oh, thank you, that’s much more reassuring.” Annalene huffed and swatted away Amika’s outstretched hand. “I swear, the things you get me into.” “Time’s a wastin’.” Amika waved Annalene over. “Annalene! Come on!” “Ok! Ok! I’m coming.” Annalene narrowed her eyes and glanced back and forth with each step, scanning the parameters for any hints of danger. Warm sunlight beamed down as they approached the structure, which looked quite like a deserted graveyard for lost and broken things. Gnarly roots shot through cracks in several potted plants’ encasements. Rusted gardening tools lay on the ground, the split handles nearly completely missing due to weathering and old age. A large wheelbarrow, full of topsoil and weedy grass, sat next to a line of ceramic busts and statues, most of which had fallen over and cracked to pieces. What wasn’t smashed to hunks of sharp
fragments by the local burrowing and scavenging critters was now covered in thick, green moss. Amika pointed to a particular mossy-faced bust that lay on the ground in front of them. “That’s the one.” Annalene cocked her head to the side. “Moirai’s a statue?” “No, silly. She lives inside.” “Oh. Okay. Silly me. She lives inside a statue. Excuse me.” Annalene stuck her tongue out at Amika. “Wait a second. Lives inside? Is she a …?” Fear flashed across Annalene’s face. Amika frantically waved her hands in the air. “She’s not a snake, okay? I know you hate snakes.” Annalene shuddered. “Not as bad as spiders.” “Wait.” Amika whipped around and gave her a nervous look. “You hate spiders?” “Well, yeah. Have you seen them? Beady little eyes. Snarly little fangs.” Annalene gestured with her forefingers at her mouth, pretending she had her own set. Amika looked worried. “That’s going to be a problem,” she said quietly. “It’s only a problem if—no!” Annalene gasped and backed away from the mossy bust. Annalene rushed at Amika and shook her by the shoulders. “Amika Briskbane! You better not be taking me to go meet a spider!” Amika refused to make eye contact. Annalene recoiled and turned her back to Amika. “No. Nope. Forget it.” Amika stepped in front of Annalene to face her, but Annalene kept turning away stubbornly. Amika finally held her by her arms. “Do you trust me?” “At this rate, I don’t know, Amika. Spiders?”
“Annalene. Seriously. Do you trust me?” “It’s not you I’m worried about.” “I’m sorry I didn’t know you hated spiders,” Amika apologized. “Worse than snakes!” Annalene exclaimed and squirmed in Amika’s grip. “Worse than snakes,” Amika repeated. “Yes. I get it. Even though snakes could easily eat you faster than a ...” Annalene’s face paled, and she shrank back. “Sorry. Sorry. That’s not helping.” Amika patted Annalene’s cheek to get some of her coloring back. “Here’s the thing. Moirai. If she was going to hurt me, she would have done it by now. She never hurt me as a faeling, and I know, with all of my heart, she will not hurt us down there.” “Down there? But it’s a statue head. How can she be down there?” “There’s a bit of a tunnel,” Amika explained. Annalene reared back and started to hyperventilate. “A tunnel!” Annalene yelped. “So now we’re dealing with closed-in spaces and a spider?” Amika dropped her arms to her sides in defeat. “Okay.” She sighed. “It’s up to you. I have to go talk to her. You can come if you want, but you don’t have to. I’ll be right back.” Amika pivoted to face the mossy bust and started walking toward it. Annalene watched as Amika turned and walked over toward the bust head, its mossy, lifeless eyes somehow looked like they were watching them. “Wait!” Annalene squealed and ran after Amika. “I’m coming with you.” She clutched tightly onto Amika’s arm for protection as they approached the dark, gaping mouth entrance.