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The iron plated door is heavy and cold against my palm. All the windows and doors have been reinforced with the highly toxic metal, and a new box of shotgun shells containing iron pellets rests on the entryway table. Not that Cal would try coming here again.
I’m fuzzy on the details, but a few days after I returned home, I found a note on my pillow from Eclipsa. She’s staying at the academy during the break to help Professor Spreewell with some soulmancy spells.
Hey, beotch,
I miss your mortal face. Please come back soon before I murder your sprite. Oh, and that changeling won’t bother you anymore. The prince and I had a nice little chat with him. You’re welcome.
Love and light,
~E
I have no idea what they did to him, but he hasn’t shown his face since.
I push the door open, the hinges creaking. “Don’t you dare kill any birds,” I warn Chatty, “or you won’t be long for this world. Got it?”
He growls in understanding and then, tail swishing, saunters to a puddle of sun on the porch and flops down.
Leaning against the doorframe, I peer out into the woods. A flicker of movement catches my eye. On instinct, I freeze. I know what lurks on the other side of the Shimmer, and I’ll never look at our forest the same.
Through the tangerine shafts of dusk piercing the trees, delicate white specks spiral to the ground. They float slowly, almost trapped in the sunbeam, like snowdrops suspended in amber.
My breath hitches at the same time a light breeze stirs. It rustles the leaves and lightly lifts the ends of my hair. Valerian.
I smile and watch the snowflakes filter through the branches until they slowly fade away. The icy wind dies, the snow dusting the ground melts.
Anyone else would be surprised, or at the very least, impressed.
But once you’ve been to Everwilde, once you’ve seen the magic and the lethal beauty of the Fae, once you’ve met Lunar Court assassins, Fae who shift into massive fire-breathing dragons, and a prince with no name, anything seems possible.
Even snow in summer.
The End
ian.
I smile and watch the snowflakes filter through the branches until they slowly fade away. The icy wind dies, the snow dusting the ground melts.
Anyone else would be surprised, or at the very least, impressed.
But once you’ve been to Everwilde, once you’ve seen the magic and the lethal beauty of the Fae, once you’ve met Lunar Court assassins, Fae who shift into massive fire-breathing dragons, and a prince with no name, anything seems possible.
Even snow in summer.
The End
