Ignites.
Warmth floods my chest. Call it fire. Call it power. Call it a wild beast, even. But with the power of a tempest, I look Lucas in the eyes and say: “Leave. Get out of my house. Get out of my life.”
He flinches. “W-what’s wrong with you…”
Cold sweat covers me as my body shakes, fear writhing inside my chest like a trapped animal. But it will not consume me today. I prowl forward. “I don’t want to see you again.”
He backs up onto the porch, blinking wildly, unsure what to say. A cold wind whips inside, wrapping around me like an embrace.
“Goodbye, Lucas.” I pick up the ring from the ground and toss it right at his chest. “And I hate the name Pumpkin.”
5
Rosalina
“Careful. Careful!”
Papa shushes me. “I’ve got it. Now, I need a splinter. Triangle shaped. Quarter of an inch long. Do you see it?”
“This?”
“Atta girl.”
My father’s hands are steady as he uses tweezers to pluck the small fragment of moonstone from the tray where we’ve gathered all the broken pieces. Taking a deep breath to calm my shaking hands, I apply a bit of Super Glue to the tip of the shard. Papa adds it to the patchwork necklace.
I can’t even bother to chide myself for how ridiculous we are right now. We’re Super Gluing a possibly ancient, magical artifact back together. It’s absurd. It’s foolhardy.
It’s my only hope.
My skin still feels on fire after the altercation with Lucas. Maybe the woman who came alive in the Enchanted Vale isn’t so lost after all. Maybe there’s something to having a bit of a beast inside you.
“It’s taking shape,” Papa mumbles. “All these years, I never knew it was a locket…”
“It belonged to Mom.” I take a seat beside my father and place a hand on his arm. Gently, he sets his tools down. “Why did she have an item from the Enchanted Vale?”
He shakes his head. His brown hair is graying at the sides, his face weathered from wind and sun and lack of care. “You know we met on the archeological excavation in Cairo. She was the anthropologist assigned to our site and had a hell of a career before we met. Made me look like a greenhorn.” He chuckles, and it’s almost like I can feel a warmth radiating from him as he talks about her, like the long dormant coals of his soul spring to life. “Anya was a bit of a collector, or a packrat, as I liked to call her. She kept all sorts of things: gifts from the people she worked with, paintings from local artists, strange jewelry.”
“But you told me she wore this every day,” I urge.
He nods. “She said it was her first treasure.”
I look down at the gleaming locket. All along, the key to the Enchanted Vale had been around my father’s neck. Like the necklaces the High Princes always wore, this might be able to create a portal home.
My father picks up his tools and begins to work again. But I can’t sit still. My knees shake, and my fingers tap on the table.
“Rosalina.”
“Sorry.” I clasp my hands in my lap to still them. “It’s just… It’s too much of a coincidence, isn’t it? We’re both drawn to Castletree, and Mom had this necklace all along.”
“Indeed,” Papa says, not taking his eyes off the broken pieces he glues back together. The swaying light above us buzzes and flickers. “In fact, I’m fairly certain it’s the only reason your dear friend Keldarion imprisoned me.”
His name sends shivers up my spine. “What?”
“He was quite intent on me leaving the castle until he saw my necklace.” Papa narrows his eyes as he fits a tiny sliver back into place. “Perhaps he knows something we don’t.”
“That’s Kel, alright. Thinks he knows everything.”
“Reminds me of something your mother once told me.” Papa’s voice is even, focused. It’s like I see him clearer than I ever have before. “Within the depths of knowledge, we find the vastness of our ignorance, and it is there that true wisdom begins to unfold."
“Papa,” I say tentatively, “how come you’re so certain Mom was taken by the fae? Ezryn said the fae don’t steal humans. It’s forbidden. She could have wandered into the Vale by accident and not been able to get out but—”
He closes his eyes, his rough hands too big for the delicate tools. “We lived in this very cottage, and Anya was so happy. She glowed with the radiance of the sun. She loved her work: adventuring, learning languages, studying different cultures. But she loved you above all else.”
My eyes brim with tears. How different could my life have been if Anya O’Connell raised me? Papa didn’t mention her much when I was growing up, but when he did, he would talk about her brash laughter, her sureness, her stubbornness. Well, I got the last one, but I wish I had some of the confidence.
“She disappeared the night of your first birthday. She seemed strange all day. Unlike herself. I thought it was just the emotions of her baby turning one. And right before midnight, she said she was going for a walk and would be right back. But I had a feeling. It’s hard to describe. Your mother and I… We would joke it was like we had a psychic connection, we were so in tune with one another. I could tell something was wrong. So, I followed her.”
“I hope there was a babysitter,” I joke. “Otherwise, you’re admitting you left a one-year-old by themselves.”
“Your grandmother was staying with us at the time, rest her soul.”
Grandma O’Connell passed away when I was five; though I don’t remember much, I know I spent a lot of time with her in those five years while my father was away. “What happened when you followed Mom?”
He closes his eyes. “What I saw has been burned into my mind ever since.”
I take his hand, silently encouraging him to continue.
“I watched your mother walk deep into the Briarwood Forest. She loved to walk among the boughs, but it was so late at night. At one point, I thought I lost her. But then, just barely visible in the light of the full moon, I saw her kneeling on the ground. Before her was a single red rose.”
Red roses… like on the thornbush that led me to the Enchanted Vale. “And then?”
“And then it was like the moon had fallen from its perch in the sky.” My father’s voice grows deep and haunted. His eyes close, and I squeeze his hand to let him know I’m here. “A luminous glow erupted, so bright I could barely see. It was all I could do to stay standing. In that burst of light, I caught sight of it.”
My father screeches his chair back and storms to the window. “For a single moment, I saw a being of terrible power, one not of this realm. And then your mother was gone.”
My heart thuds. I know better than most mortals the horrifying capabilities of the fae. But what would one have wanted with my mother?
“I must have passed out because I woke up at dawn. All that was left of your mother was that single rose and this necklace.” He looks back to the broken moonstone.
“I’m sorry, Papa.”
He shakes his head. “No, I’m sorry. Sorry you never got to know her. She was magnificent.” A soft, sad smile creeps up his face. “You’re a lot like her.”
“No.” I get up and walk over to him. “I’m sorry for never believing you. For never standing up for you. But I have your back now.” I feel that thing inside my chest, that tightly wound courage I unleashed on Lucas. It draws me toward the necklace. “And we’re going to return together.”
Papa nods and sits down, immediately getting back to work. “I was no father of the year. You deserved better than I gave you. You still do.”
“Enough mushy stuff,” I joke. “More gluing.”
Papa laughs under his breath, but before he picks up his tools, his eyes grow distant. “Rose?”
“Yes, Papa?”
“I know I haven’t done anything to gain your trust, but please…” His voice cracks. “Trust me when I say I know your mother is still alive. I know it. In here.” He thumps his heart.