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thirty

Banquet Hall

A table with a seating of four anchored the chamber.

Before Heather’s eyes, it stretched in length to accommodate the six of them.

She expected the king and queen to sit at either end.

Alas, it surprised her when His Majesty held out a chair for his wife and lowered himself into the one to her right.

Likewise, Skye presented a low-backed seat to Heather.

She noted it was perfect for those with wings.

Silver candelabras lined the very heart of the table, each candle radiating with the similar stark ivory light of the torches in the great hall.

Curiously, they radiated incessantly, yet the wicks remained unmarred.

The wax stood solid. Moss draped across the tabletop.

A vine of white moon flowers sprouted at the center, glowing and growing to extend to either end of the surface as their party claimed their seats.

The tall, vaulted ceiling in the room lifted to high rafters resembling tree roots.

A troupe of hobs flitted into the dining hall, a team of two delivering a dish to each guest on well-practiced wings.

Except, the queen did not receive one. Skye’s father plucked a strawberry from his own plate and held it to Camellia’s lips.

Her moth appendages glowed behind her in a soft, dusty haze. Heather’s cheeks went hot.

“I beg ye to halt these ghastly displays of affection. It’s souring my stomach,” lamented Aster from across the table.

Skye snickered, the epitome of a teasing older brother.

Heather had to wonder if there was a deeper meaning to Aster’s objections.

Did she feel lonely in this chamber of happily united couples- most of her family having met their other halves?

She tried to envision Crimson seated beside Skye’s sister. The males’ threatening demeanor made it an arduous task. Her heart went out to Aster, knowing all too well the ache of loneliness.

All the instances where Skye glowed and dusted in her presence owned a new meaning after experiencing hibernation.

She looked down at her own hands, the guilty evidence of shimmer a tell-tale sign of what exactly consumed the two of them recently.

What did Aster make of it? Was it commonplace in faerie?

Saylor sat to the left of the queen, occasionally conversing with his miniature friend. Fiora had her own small trencher placed at Saylor’s side.

Heather leaned over towards them. “Does Fiora enjoy baking? Skye and my household made macarons a few days ago.”

Saylor glanced up at her with a wide grin, whispering conspiratorially, “She tries, but she’s dreadful at it. Last time she added salt instead of sugar!”

Fiora rose from her mushroom pedestal, stomped her foot and chortled reproachfully. Heather’s soft laugh caught Skye’s notice. He gazed at them, his countenance warm and tender.

“Bless-ed be her heart.” Skye said, chuckling.

“How are ye finding faerie, dear?” asked Camellia, the question stealing Heather’s attention from Skye.

Heather took in a pleased inhale. “It’s everything I had hoped it to be.

” Skye and Heather’s gaze crossed again.

“I wish my friend Jessa were here to experience it, but Tarragon will find her. Hopefully she’ll be at my side sooner than later.

Faerie is clearly favored to be free of the incessant rain wreaking havoc on the rest of the continent.

” She refused to give up on her friendship with Jessa, believing her friend incapable of deceit.

“Oh, we’re to be joined by more humans?” The king remarked incredulously.

His Majesty lifted a strawberry to his mouth, a wry dark eyebrow raised.

Skye’s eyes sharpened as they fell upon his sire.

His remark was a sting on Heather’s skin, but she chose to ignore the injury.

Skye growled low, granting the elder male a warning.

Camellia placed a palm on top of her husband’s. “If Heather’s friend is half as lovely as she, I hope we have a pack of them at our door.”

The king appeared chastised.

Heather tried to redirect the topic at hand.

“Everything edible is rotting on the vine in the human lands. I wish there was something I could do to assist my loved ones, who I fear, are on the brink of starvation. It’s striking how the rains are diminished here in faerie.

” Visions of the faeries working their enchantments on the flower meadow came to mind.

“If I possessed pixie magick, I’d be laboring to renew the commoner’s gardens. ”

“Mayhap we could send out troupes to heal their crops?” suggested Aster, as she looked hopefully to her sire.

“Do the humans deserve our help?” asked the king, striking Heather, dumbfounded by the remark. How could this male be the father of her kindhearted beloved?

“There are plenty of people who are innocent and certainly not meriting hunger.” Heather fought to keep a surge of anger from her voice.

Skye cleared his throat. “Heather is proof enough that there are those deserving of assistance. Need I remind ye, Heather is the reason we’re aware the bastard’s road is headed straight for us?

” His wings twitched in agitation, “We can no longer passively sit back and ignore the pain and suffering taking place in the mortal realm. Our fate is the same as the Standing Stones if we fail to act.”

The king’s placid gaze evaluated his son. An arrogant hand graced his chin in consideration.

“Before I departed King Willem’s kingdom, a bard- a stranger to us, entertained the court with a fantastical tale of Spirit Gods.” remarked Heather. “Skye mentioned that you may have more information?” she asked, although she began to doubt if any of his advisement was wise.

“If ye think me cruel, you’ll be shocked to learn the greater beings drowned a nation at the dawn of our history. A country known as Atlantis now sits in the darkest depths of the ocean.”

Aster’s fork clanged as it dropped to her plate. The Queen mother’s gasp was audible throughout the hall. Saylor gathered Fiora in his palms, the youngling’s face full of distress at his father’s words.

Subconsciously, Heather’s hand went to the ribbon in her hair, old habits loathe to die. Fear struck her anew, but his affirmation history could be repeating itself instilled a new resolve within her.

“The rains… Father, why are ye only sharing this with us now?” Aster’s glare was cutting. Camilla embraced young Saylor, murmuring sweet consolations to her youngest offspring.

“I’ve compelled the worst of the showers from faerie to the best of my ability.

The humans are no doubt to blame, as they were a millennium ago.

Their hubris at fault for Atlantis’ erasure from history and maps alike.

It’s not our burden to right the human’s wrongs.

Besides, if a single human steps a foot into these woods, they’ll wander for eternity. ”

Heather worried out loud, “What about the fires they may strike while they’re lost within? Their axes aren’t the only thing to fear.” Skye nodded his head and hummed agreement. Heather dare not voice the trepidation of the Emerald Isle sinking, not desiring to frighten young Saylor more.

“We journeyed to the human encampment. If we had not been there, the forest would already be aflame, Sire,” said Skye.

“Perhaps I’ll let them wander into Crimson’s feared mushroom traps. That deviant will take care of them. They’ll be less of a threat at two inches tall,” remarked the King dryly.

“If one did desire to intervene on the continent’s behalf, where could one find the Spirits of the realms?” asked Heather.

“Why, the Isle of Clouds. The place where earth, sea and the heavens meet,” replied the faerie king.