“Eva? Please. I need to know…”
She nodded, coming over to sit with me, holding the Eye in her hand.
Danny’s eye widened. “Umm, what are you doing?”
Eva began to circle her hand counter-clockwise over the orb. “We’re going back in time, dear.”
Danny squealed. “Pretty please let me go, and I’ll do all of your bitch work for a week.”
Eva smirked. “Even collecting the skunk urine?”
Skunk urine. She said skunk urine.
He grimaced. “Yes. For a week only.”
Eva looked to me and I nodded. Fine by me. I just wanted to get there already.
Logan’s energy pulled my gaze up; he was concerned, eyeing me with worry.
‘I’ll be fine. Be right back,’ I told him, and winked.
He nodded, arms crossed, and watched me through those piercing green eyes. Something told me that if I didn’t come right back, Logan Sharp would somehow come and get me.
“Okay,” Eva explained, “I won’t take you to the time of war because that’s too dark. We’ll try to see your mother in a gentler time in Faery.”
I nodded. I didn’t care what timeframe it was so long as I saw her.
“Just focus on your mother’s energy. Think of memories of her, and I’ll tap into that, trying to find her in the past.”
I bobbed my head, my mind going to a memory of her humming in the kitchen while snipping the ends of off green beans. The way the sunlight hit her hair always reminded me of fire. She wasn’t weak or timid, my mother, but she was gentle. Maybe at one time she’d been some fierce warrior to the queen, but she’d become a mom, a teacher, and she was so soft. She never raised her voice to me. Grounded me plenty of times, or took away my drawing pencils, but she was never angry. Something must have doused that fire that Griddish claimed was in her.
Eva breathed in and out slowly beside me, as Danny came to sit on the other side of her. She was rolling the copper ball in that rhythmic circular motion as I let the memories go to my mother.
Finally, Eva froze. “I’ve got her!” She seemed shocked as if she didn’t expect it to work. Without another word, I reached out and touched the ball—and then I was falling, then flying, then drowning. This was different than the last time I’d used this ball to travel to the Griddish memory. This was Faery, which was God knows where, and just when I thought I couldn’t breathe, I was slammed to my feet—in the middle of a grand throne room. Dizziness washed over me for a moment.
“Sorry, dears, Faery is long gone, so traveling to these memories is a bit harder,” she said, from beside me.
“It’s fine.” Danny waved his hand, taking in the great hall. Above was a domed ceiling with paintings of elfin warriors in battle with their queen. A queen who stood not ten feet from me, with white silken hair cascading to her waist. She was perched on her golden throne, reading a book. As she flipped the pages I realized I could hear!
“I can hear!” I guess it was the ear after all.
Eva looked confused until her eyes roamed over the queen. “Of course. It’s her magic after all, looking back on her own memories, there will be sound.”
Fascinating.
“Where’s my—?” The door opened, cutting off my question, and a sob escaped me as my mother glided into the room. She looked like she was wearing a costume—breast plates, arm cuffs, and two large swords crossed behind her back.
“Mom!” I shouted, and started running. I didn’t care that this was a memory, or my mother looked like a Dungeons and Dragons character, this all felt so real. I wanted to hug her. But she didn’t turn to my voice, or my approaching feet. Instead, she walked right to her queen, who set her book down and dismissed her guards.
I reached my mom, hoping for a smell, a touch, but I went right through her like a ghost.
“So? What did you think of them? The humans?” the queen asked, with glittering eyes as my heart crushed. I couldn’t talk to my mom.
Danny ran up behind me and slipped his hand in mine. I squeezed it, hard, and stared at my beautiful mother. Her fiery red hair was pleated into a large braid that hung down her back.
“I admit I was taken with them. They’re … so innocent in a way.” The way she spoke so casually with the queen, and gave no bow or curtsy proved they were good friends. “But I especially loved the children. Such sweet children who don’t grow up learning battle or magic skills. They’re all thrust into academia. It’s…”
The queen leaned forward with lips curled into a grin. “Fascinating?”
My mother laughed then, and it punched me in the gut to hear that sound. Danny’s grip on my hand tightened.
“Yes, they are fascinating,” she said.
The queen bounced up and down a little and clapped her hands. “I knew you would love them! I think we should invite some of them to come here.”
My mother’s face darkened, then. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. Word of your fascination with the humans has gotten out. The druids are rumored to be furious.”
The queen stuck up her nose. “The old, high and mighty druids can kiss my arse.”
My mother smiled lazily. “You forget I am a high and mighty druid?”
The queen shrugged. “You’re nothing like them. Besides, you’re a fire druid. You’re above them.”
My mom looked uncomfortable. “I don’t want to be above anyone.”
“Hold on,” Eva spoke then. “I’m going to try to go forward a bit but keep us in this place.” The room fast-forwarded lightning-quick, people zooming in and out of the room until Eva stopped it and the queen was looking sullen, sitting shrunken in her chair, my mother standing over her.
“The people have heard of your love for the human,” my mother declared.
The queen looked up into my mother’s eyes. “Thomas. His name is Thomas, and I do love him. I love all of them.”
My mother winced slightly. “I’m concerned for your safety. People are saying you love the humans more than our own kind. They say you’ve lost sight of what’s best for Faery.”
The queen stood so abruptly my mother stumbled back a step. Yellow puffs of smoky magic leaked off of the queen’s skin as power crackled in the air. “What’s best for Faery is to open our arms to these people. Have you seen how many of them there are? They outnumber us ten to one. Have you seen their weapons? Those small canisters, the projectiles … the...?” She was snapping her fingers, trying to remember.
My mother nodded. “They call them guns. Yes, I’ve seen.”
The queen nodded. “But most of them are harmless. Look how infatuated they are with us when we visit. If we keep dialog open with their leaders, I know that both of us can co-exist beautifully.”
My mother did something then that she always did when she was stressed. She pinched her thumb and pointer finger together, like a nervous tic.
“If you go ahead with this plan, then I fear an assassination plot, Your Majesty,” my mother pleaded with her.