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And he might understand. He just might.

28

Fantasy

At the door, Aire leaned against the frame. His pants sloped low over his hips, and the neckline of his shirt hung unlaced, revealing the span of his chest.

In short, he wouldn’t make it easy to leave.

He took my hand and kissed my knuckles. “I shall return to my treehouse and await you there. For good or ill, I wish you luck on your quest today,mylady.”

“Be naked when I get back,mylord.”

Laughing, he let me steal one more kiss. “Aspen.”

“Arggg,” I groaned, dragging myself from his arms. “Okay. I’m going.”

Down the walkway, I turned and winked at him, carrying his smile—his trust—into the forest.

The woodland crowded around me, a spectacle of colors and light, a contrast of gnarled boughs and poisonous mushrooms. I craned my neck, held my head high. I thought of Nicu and Lyrik and Punk. I thought of Mother. I thought of Aire.

Bramble and foliage crackled beneath me. The farther I went, the more my acorn heart jangled.

It didn’t hurt. Rather, it expanded. How odd.

As I traveled, I kept thinking of the people I’d met. The people who’d always mattered and the ones I hadn’t expected to matter. We’d all come here, to these fabled woodlands, to declare or claim something.

Punk, allegiance. Nicu, independence. Lyrik, companionship. Aire, release.

Me, healing. Healing for Mother.

What did I want for myself? Maybe I just wanted to be real, not a construction or a fairytale. I wanted to be real without having to prove it, without having to force it on others.

I wanted to have friends without coercing them into it.

I wanted Mother to see me again, as she always had.

I wanted to deserve the way Aire looked at me.

I wanted to share something with this world, not just take from it.

That was the fairytale. That was a happy life.

A new life. A restored life.

You’ve restored my heart.

Recalling Aire’s words, it dawned on me. Wishes were marvelous, but they weren’t the only power to be had. Those blessed acorns could give faith, but they couldn’t change my mother.

Relying on a fairytale wasn’t enough. We had to persevere on our own, to make our own fate. We had to be our own saviors.

I paused on the winding lane. The third acorn was never for Mother or me. We had everything we needed in ourselves. In each other.

The forest had only been tempting me. It had been test, a lesson. And this, right here, right now, could be the reward.

I’d never find where the lumberjack and animal met, because that wasn’t where I had to go. So I ran, veering around trunks and shrubs.

I knew what to do with the final acorn.