Page 55

forty-two

Wishes in the Wind

A t dusk, they gathered at the height of the faerie tree.

Flowers blossomed as the lady of the moon peeked through wispy, white clouds.

The air was saturated thickly with the desires, dreams and hopes of past wishers.

Ribbons swirled far below the ceremony platform, a pastel rainbow of colors.

With her sensitive wings, Heather could feel the magnetic charge of hope, love and yearning exuding from them.

Such strong emotions, tethered to the tree.

Her already light heart seemed to soar on pixie wings.

She joined her hands with Skye, standing tall beside her, promising her all the wishes in the wind.

As handsome as ever, the male was clad in a white and silver tunic, long boots over his shins, and a bejeweled crown.

Heather’s moon white gown rippled with an invisible wind, the movement revealing the depth of opal shine woven into the material.

“If wishes were ribbons, you’d be mine. Together forever throughout all time.

I’d no longer need ribbons, for my heart is thine.

With this simple twine, our souls and hands do thee bind.

” Skye’s wide palm slipped to the nape of her neck, pulling her close as they sealed their promise with a passionate kiss.

White daisy petals rained down on the couple as all of faerie cheered. Heather’s pink glowing dust twined with Skye’s green in delicate tendrils. Each and every one of her wishes had given form.

They had halted the rains, the human lands were healing, thanks to the numerous pixie troupes’ assistance and King Willem had been deposed, ceasing the road’s construction. The faerie tree, Heather and her fellow pixies were safeguarded deep in the wood.

Skye whistled. Arley and Audley swooped in with the chariot at the ready. Heather’s heart bonded assisted her up into the cart and joined her side. They waved to the assembly as they flew past, into the emerald sea of leaves.

“Moonbeam, as the bride, we await ye, my love.” Skye’s hand rested comfortingly atop hers. Heather sat at the end of the banquet table in the great hall of her home, crowded with her new friends and family.

His Majesty’s former chef smiled brightly from their left.

The older woman was adjusting marvelously to life in faerie.

Even Clive was adapting well to the woman’s presence, following a few minor squabbles.

Mae learned of the hob’s weakness within the first few days in the kitchen, and Heather’s adoptive mother had plied him with sweet concoctions since.

Skye’s voice shook Heather from her reflections on how much this dinner differed from her last meal in King Willem’s banquet hall. Where she sat alone in shadow, nibbling on the king’s scraps like a scared, inconsequential mouse.

The love she felt for everyone present was reciprocated by those at this table, and it was overwhelming.

Enchanting warm light emitted from the candelabras decorating the chamber.

Heather’s stomach didn’t roil at the sight of the feast, and she straightened the peridot Ashwoode ribbon she wore as a sash.

The celebration would continue well into the next moon phase, with pageants and tourneys hosted by the king and queen.

Knights of the realm prepared to joust for Aster’s favor.

Mae and Clive’s troupes worked together to provide five courses for Heather and Skye’s wedding feast. A healthy fire roared in the wide hearth, and food meant to nourish, not harm, overflowed Heather’s plate.

Skye had loaded her dish with an extra helping of baked brie, topped with blackberries and honey.

It was one of Heather’s favored, but her heart panged harshly with the reminder of the friend who was absent.

Jessa remained missing, to Heather’s distress.

It was the singular source of sadness on her most happy of days.

Her dearest friend should have been at Heather’s side as she traded wishes with Skye.

Tarragon would continue his pursuit on the morrow. Heather planned to launch a search of her own. Hammy and Jessa rambled somewhere amongst the wilds. Heather would scour the countryside until they were reunited.

For now, Heather’s heart, her home and her plate- were full.