Posted in Stories

Short Story: Gingerbread

“The end.”

“Momma,” her daughter said. “There’s not really a house made of candy in the woods, is there?” Concern made her eyes wide.

A laugh escaped. “It wouldn’t last very long if there was, now would it?”

“No.” Her son cut in matter-of-factly. “All the animals would come and eat it.”

“Indeed they would. There’s nothing to be afraid of. It’s only a story meant to pass a little bit of time between supper and bed. Which is where the both of you need to be.”

“Already?” Her son’s smile faded into a pout.

“Already,” she said and stood up. “Kisses and then into bed. I’ll tuck you both in shortly.”

They sighed but accepted a hug and a kiss. Already she could tell her son was sleepy, his steps shuffling over the floor. He might protest bedtime the most, but he rarely stayed awake more than a few minutes passed it.

She tucked him in first and wasn’t surprised when he was almost immediately asleep. “Good night my gingerbread boy,” she murmured and then crept over to his sister’s bed.

Her daughter lay awake, staring at the ceiling. “You’re sure there’s no house made of candy?” her daughter asked and she chuckled as she sat on the bed.

“I’m sure. Did the story scare you too much?”

“I’m not scared. Not much.”

She laughed and bent down, pressing a kiss to her daughter’s soft hair. “I promise. No houses made of candy and no greedy bakers looking to gobble up sweet children, either. Besides. You know I’m a baker. Do you think I could make a house out of candy?”

Her daughter smiled and relaxed a little. “Maybe,” she said and rolled over. “Your baking is always so tasty.”

“And that’s why it never lasts long around here. Good night my gingerbread girl.”

She slipped out, looking at them for a few minutes before she closed the door.

A sigh escaped as she moved to the kitchen. All too soon it would be time to get up and start the morning’s baking.

For now however, she moved to the ancient brick oven and looked in at the ball of dough she’d left rising.

“Perfect,” she said as she pulled it out. “You don’t need to be all that sweet, but just a little bit of cinnamon and some sugar.”

She worked with care, her hands folding and pulling the dough into the perfect shape. Skill and practice made it possible to form ears and a tail

Finished, she smiled as she opened her cabinet for one last tiny bottle. It was nearly empty, and to anyone else it looked like plain sugar. There would be just enough left to sprinkle over a single baked good.

Just enough for a cinnamon roll.

The last few sparkling grains tipped out onto the cinnamon roll before she eased the sheet into the ancient oven to bake.

Her boy had wanted a pet for so long and her daughter had loved seeing the butcher’s cat.

The problem was, she had to be careful what she allowed them to be exposed to. As her son had pointed out, some animals would happily gobble down candy and sweets. She knew more than a few people would.

A faint meow from the oven and she looked in seeing the cat as it began rising properly and turning golden brown. It would still be a while, but in the morning she would have a perfect cat for her sweet children.

“A cinnamon roll cat for a gingerbread boy and a gingerbread girl.”

___________

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Posted in serial, Seventh

Seventh Part Twelve

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Part Eight | Part Nine | Part Ten | Part Eleven

One final brother. Her youngest brother. Crystal felt her heart skipping a beat as Blake led her back between the columns. This time, Lucinda stood next to the throne and hummed a little, idly stroking Clay’s long hair.

“One dwarven coal for the release of your final brother,” Lucinda said.

“One coal,” Crystal said and opened her coin pouch. Even now she could feel the heat through the tough leather. She doubted the purse itself would be usable after this, but it worked for what she needed. “For one brother.”

Lucinda laughed and clapped her hands together. A table, with a single metal plate appeared before them. Each stone leg had been carved intricately. As Crystal watched, the rest of the items she’d gathered appeared, though she noted the apple had begun to sprout, the seeds pushing out of its body and creating woody tendrils.

Hesitantly, she opened the pouch and deposited the coal on the plate.

“Done,” Lucinda said and clicked her fingers.

Clay stirred a little. “Where…Where am I?”

“Your freedom has been paid for,” Lucinda said sweetly and he stood, shakily.

“It’s okay,” Crystal told him and held her unburnt hand out as he stumbled towards her. She smiled when he took it and pulled him to stand behind her. “We’re both free to go.”

“Ah, don’t forget. We have one final deal to work out,” Lucinda said.

She’d almost been hoping that with her items, Lucinda wouldn’t need to worry about getting a bride for Blake still. Vain hope, she knew, but squeezed Clay’s hand.

“I need to return my brother home.”

“He is awake and capable of leaving on his own terms,” Lucinda said and then paused and smiled. “Ah, but I suspect you have a friend coming. Perhaps the same fairy who’s been such a help.”

“I haven’t sought any aid from any fairies,” Crystal said and glanced at Blake. Did he count as fairy aid?

“No?” Lucinda said and a faint gasp made Crystal turn.

Juniper, dressed in the plainest of her skirts and holding a lantern. Lucinda laughed and in an instant stepped out of the shadows right behind Juniper. A touch and Juniper scurried forward, away from Lucinda.

“She’s not a fairy,” Crystal said. The sharpness of her tone belayed some of her fear as Juniper gripped her waist with one hand.

“How certain are you of that?” Lucinda asked. “Here she comes, of her own power, to seek out someone who should be damned.”

“Crystal,” Clay said quietly but she shushed him as Juniper pressed closer.

“Flint came back,” Juniper said. “And told me you’d traded my ribbon.”

Crystal hesitated and nodded. “I did,” she said. “I didn’t have anything else he’d accept.”

“Are you certain she’s no fairy?” Lucinda hummed and Juniper looked up, almost frightened. Crystal put a hand to Juniper’s side, wishing she could give her the strength to stand up to Lucinda.

“I’m no fairy,” Juniper said. “But I know what fairies look like. I know the rules they’re bound by. And I know you are no true fae.”

“Oh, you’re clever.” Lucinda said and smiled as she leaned down, her fangs gleaming in the light of Juniper’s lantern. “And if I’m no fae, what am I?”

“You’re blessed,” Juniper said. “The same as Crystal. Only your blessing was to sleep for an eternity, only to be woken by a true prince. You knew. So when you were sixteen, you went searching for a way to break free of the blessing. There’s only one creature no fairy will bother if they can avoid it.”

“Dwarves,” Crystal said.

“Indeed,” Lucinda said. “Seven years of labor to break my curse. But dwarves have very little need of human hands, so they only used a day here and there, over seven centuries. When at last I had been freed of it, I had spent so long in the shadows and under the ground everyone had forgotten me in the land above. My curse was broken, but I was still doomed to life alone.”

“And thus, you went looking for the dwarves again.”

“And found something even better,” Lucinda said. “My curse called for a true prince, and a prince I found. A fae prince.”

“A prince of the dark court,” Juniper said quietly. “The stories and facts get blurred, but I can guess at them.”

“Guess away. I can tell you now. He offered me a kingdom, in exchange for binding myself to him. I would have a kingdom, and he would have a queen. He never told me it would be in the cold, quiet dark of the earth.”

“Then why go looking for a bride for Blake?”

“To make her own agreements work,” Blake said. “If she can find a bride for me, then she goes free, human once more.”

“Indeed,” Lucinda said. “Thus, in exchange for all my power as a fae, you will bind yourself to Blake, Crystal Cleary.”

Juniper gasped. “You can’t!”

Crystal however, smiled. “And that is where you’re wrong,” she said. “You cannot make deals in Blake’s stead.”

“By right of mother’s law, I can,” Lucinda said and Clay leaned forward slightly.

“Crystal, you’re not able to be a bride,” he said quietly. His whispered words pitched upwards and Crystal smiled as she turned to Blake.

“Well then,” she said. “I pose a question to you.”

Blake smiled, almost as if he knew what she would ask. “Ask it freely,” he said.

“What will you offer my wife to make me your bride?”

Wife?” Lucinda shrieked and Juniper clutched at Crystal.

The smile on Blake’s face grew. “I’d wondered,” he said and bowed. “I am afraid, I can offer her naught, but the ribbon traded earlier, three buttons and a penny.”

In his hand, the tiny items Crystal had traded him for his aid appeared and he held them out to Juniper. “Will these suffice to break your binds to your wife?”

Juniper shivered. “No,” she said.

Lucinda shrieked and Blake closed his hand around them again. “Pity. I have nothing else to offer you.”

“You cannot do this,” Lucinda snarled and Crystal pulled Juniper closer. “You are the perfect bride.”

“Except that I am already married,” Crystal said.

“Which you did not disclose!”

“You did not ask.”

“You wear no ring.”

“On the contrary,” Crystal said and reached into her shirt for the leather tie she wore her ring on. “To protect it from damage, my wedding ring rests with the rings my parents wore.”

Lucinda hissed. “I should trap all of you here.”

“You will not,” Blake said.

“And why is that?” Lucinda demanded and Blake smirked.

“If you do, you break the deals you made with Crystal in exchange for your items. The apple will die, ceasing to grow. The bag of your snow will no longer work, and the dwarf’s coal will grow cold.”

“I will have my freedom!”

“You will not!” Juniper snapped. “You have broken one blessing upon you already. For that reason alone, you are bound to the agreement made with the fae prince.”

“And who will call upon him?”

“No one needs to call upon me. I sense my wife’s distress, and forever dutiful, I go to her aid.”

The lantern on Juniper’s belt flickered out, and Crystal held her tight, glad for the hand she still had around Clay’s fingers. Hard as she tried, her eyes couldn’t see in the darkness.

A faint click and then the lantern relit itself. Blake sighed before he held Crystal’s lantern out to her.

“A pity,” Blake said as he plucked the bag of snow from the table. He opened it and upended it.

“It’s broken,” Juniper murmured.

“No, it’s not,” Crystal said. “Blake just took it. It wasn’t traded.”

“And so it wasn’t,” Blake said. “I do think however, that you will need to be returning. Sun-up is soon.”

Crystal hesitated and nodded. “We do,” she said.

Blake however, held out a hand. “In exchange for taking the three of you to the entrance, I request only a trinket.”

“A trinket,” Clay demanded.

“A trinket,” Blake said. “A piece of thread, a bone and perhaps a spare coin.”

Crystal smiled and opened her bag. She didn’t need to think too much and reached in, pulling each item out easily. The thread caught for a moment, but the mouse’s skull and the spare coin were easily deposited into Blake’s hand.

“One piece of thread, a mouse’s skull and a spare coin,” Crystal said. “We’re agreed.”

“Then allow me,” Blake said and bowed. The lantern flickered out again and Crystal squeezed Juniper.

The light, when it came on again, showed them facing the entrance. “He just…” Clay said and looked around.

“He did,” Crystal said. “I don’t know why though.”

“I can take a guess,” Juniper said and kissed Crystal’s cheek. “But guesses are offensive, and I’d rather not do that if we can avoid it.”

“Agreed,” Crystal said. “Let’s go home.”

Posted in serial, Seventh

Seventh Part Eleven

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Part Eight | Part Nine | Part Ten

The shadows claimed her only a little ways from the entrance. Her lantern did little to alleviate the darkness she walked through. The sound of her steps and breathing echoed around her, amplified by the emptiness of the stone walls around her.

Despite hearing every minute sound, Crystal heard nothing to indicate anyone else moved around in the shadows with her. If the blood fae were here, she couldn’t detect them.

She stopped, a little hesitant on the path and soft laughter came to her.

“You return again and again, even despite the odds against you.” Blake’s voice did not echo, which disturbed her more as he stepped into the dim ring of her lantern’s light, letting the amber glow color his features.

“I came to make a trade with Lucinda,” Crystal said defensively.

“I know that well,” Blake said and walked a circle around her. Crystal had to turn to keep him in her view. “Tell me. Do you know the story of the young girl who sought help from the dwarves to break the curse upon her?”

It surprised her that he would ask about a story and had to tip her chin up a little as he came to a stop in front of her. “I know it,” she said. “She was given a curse at birth and sought help from the dwarves to break it. She agreed to seven years hard labor in exchange for an item to break her curse.”

Blake inclined his head. “And yet, time moves differently for dwarves. She served her penance and gained her item, only to find it had not been seven years but seven centuries.”

“It’s an old story,” Crystal said.

“Indeed, but do you know what happened after she learned how long she had truly been serving them?”

Crystal shook her head. “Only that she sought the dwarves out a second time but could never find them.”

“Indeed. You humans like to add ‘happily ever after’ onto your stories. There isn’t always a happily forever after, sometimes it’s only ‘forever’ after.”

Her heart left bruises on her ribs as it pounded in her chest. Try as she might, every breath she took came in meager and shallow.

“I only seek the releases of my brothers,” Crystal said and Blake smirked.

“I know that as well,” he said and motioned. “This way.”

She moved carefully to keep him in the lantern’s light. It seemed as if he led her down one short corridor before Lucinda’s throne room opened up before them. She passed the final two columns, glancing up at each of her brothers, still slumbering.

Lucinda herself smirked. “One bag of snow for one brother,” she said. “Do we have an even trade?”

“We do,” Crystal said and held the bag out to Lucinda.

Lucinda took it and frowned a little as she studied the leather pouch.  “This is very small,” she said.

“You never specified a size,” Crystal said and tipped her chin up. “Nor did you offer me anything in exchange for the knowledge of how to make it work.”

Lucinda’s hands clenched. “So I didn’t,” she said. “I will only offer to wake your newly released brother.”

Crystal hesitated. Not doing so could leave her and Flint trapped in the caves, and Clay forever bound to the stone column.

“Agreed,” she said and Lucinda inhaled, clicking her fingers. Flint dropped to the floor with a groan and Crystal gasped before she darted to him.

“Flint,” she said.

“Your information, Crystal Cleary. We have an agreement.”

She’d made a mistake and stood up slowly while Flint continued stirring and sitting up on the ground.

“If you look inside, it will appear empty. It’s only by opening it and turning it over that you’ll find the snow. It cannot be given, only traded and it will only work for a year and a day,” Crystal said.

Lucinda hummed. “A clever piece of work. I do question what other fairy you had to trade.”

“I traded no other fairy.”

Flint had managed to stand up and caught her arm, his expression still dazed. “Crystal?”

“I’m okay,” she said and put a hand to his fingers, feeling how cool and clammy they were. “One final deal, Lucinda.”

“A final deal? What did you do, Crystal?” Flint squeezed her arm in worry and she smiled a little.

“She’s made an agreement with me,” Lucinda said. Her tone had grown icy. “One item for one brother. Six items in total. And now she only needs to retrieve the last item in order to release her brother. Are we agreed, Crystal Cleary?”

“We are,” Crystal said. “Name your last item.”

Lucinda inhaled. “I require a burning coal from a dwarven forge.”

Crystal’s heart sank. Blake’s warning had become clear now. There were two things fairies weren’t likely to cross. Angry spirits.

And Dwarves.

“You can’t,” Flint said.

“I have to,” Crystal replied.

Blake chuckled again. “These caves are a labyrinth,” he warned. “You’ll only become lost trying to find the dwarves. I will offer my aid to get you to the dwarves.”

She hesitated and looked at Flint. “Can you find your way by yourself?”

“I think so,” he said. “Maybe I should go with you.”

A head shake was her answer. “I know why I have to be the one to do this. Don’t risk yourself.”

“Perhaps I can aid you both,” Blake said. “I do believe the brother carries a gold ring. I will exchange that for delivering him to the entrance.”

Flint hesitated and then nodded. “Agreed,” he said and dug in his pocket to find a small bag, which he emptied to reveal the ring.

A shadow snatched it up and Crystal shivered as the shadow formed into what she thought might be a dog.

“My shadow will guide you whenever you are ready.”

Flint looked at Crystal and she inhaled. “Name your price for aiding me,” she said.

“The ribbon in your hair,” he said. “That and nothing else.”

The ribbon she only wore because Juniper constantly lost them. The ribbon she wore so she’d have an excuse to fuss and play with Juniper’s hair when it needed straightening again. It wasn’t hers to give.

“It’s not mine to give,” she said.

“I’ll accept nothing else,” Blake answered. “The ribbon or nothing.”

“Crystal,” Flint murmured in warning and she inhaled before she reached up to slide the ribbon out of her locks.

“Let the others know I’ll be away a while, and tell Juniper I’m sorry about the ribbon.”

“You can’t be serious,” Flint said.

“I am,” she said and pressed it to her lips for a moment, wishing she had another option before she held it out. “The ribbon for your aid to both find the dwarves and then to leave again.”

Blake grinned and took the ribbon. It slid from her fingers as easily as water ran through a clenched fist, leaving only the trace feel of its silk behind.

“This way then,” he said. “And mind the light of your lantern is low.”

She turned the wick down before she followed him down into the cave, leaving her brothers behind as they descended once more.

Blake turned away from the other paths she’d trodden before almost as soon as they’d properly entered the cave. There was no sound, save for the shuffle of her feet, and his steps.

“This part drops a bit,” Blake warned and Crystal hesitated a moment before she followed him down, easing down the steep turn with some trepidation. There would be no coming back from this, she sensed, and followed down, deeper and deeper into the darkness.

Ahead, the glow of her lantern only offered a few glimpses of the stony walls. It painted her surroundings amber and gold, but she doubted the truth of the colors.

The caves branched, but Blake moved ahead, forever fearless and always just a little ahead. He never slowed, but his pace was easy to match as they ventured farther away from anything familiar and ever deeper into the cool, quiet dark.

Slowly, the tunnels they followed changed. No more were the stalagmites reaching for the sky, instead they were rounded, or flattened at the top. The walls began to smooth, and Crystal became aware of a faint heat from somewhere as they moved ahead.

Blake paused, listening at last before he inhaled. “Cut the lantern, before they become aware of our presence.”

Crystal complied, not certain she wished to find out what he meant by ‘they’ or why it sounded almost as if he was afraid.

The lantern extinguished, but she could still see. The light, she realized, came from somewhat farther ahead, cherry red in its glow.

Silent in his stride, Blake moved around, away from the ruddy light. Crystal followed, and he motioned her down as they approached another opening. They both crouched and she eased around Blake to peer out.

Dwarves, she saw. Not the Dwarven miners she might have expected, but rather the smiths with singed and charred beards who pumped bellows. Though short, they carried hefty hammers, each one easily the size of its bearer.

She inhaled slowly.

“They do not barter as we do,” Blake said. “Time means nothing to them.”

“I need a coal,” Crystal said and considered it. She had nothing to offer them, couldn’t risk giving them her time.

She closed her eyes as she thought. How did she get a coal from a dwarven forge, she wondered?

Once more she opened her eyes, looking about and inhaling slowly.

There were plenty of fires, she realized, and saw one not too far from another opening. “That opening there,” Crystal said.

“It’s possible to reach it,” Blake said. “But reaching the forge would be difficult.”

“I have to try,” Crystal said and slunk back along the tunnel.

Blake took the lead again. The only sight she had of him for part of it as he moved was the faint silhouette against the rocks.

They rounded another corner, and there ahead of them, she saw it. The edges of the cave where the smiths worked. She could hear the ring and grind of their work clearly now.

She crouched, one hand feeling at the rocks under her. They were warm to the touch, perhaps baking in the heat of dwarven fires.

One singed her fingers and she jerked back from it. Her blessing, as always, came to hand.

Carrying it back herself was out of the question. She needed a way to hold it. She thought only for a moment before she pulled her coin purse off her belt. The coins she dumped into the larger bag on her. She opened the pouch to its widest before she once again felt along the floor, fingers tender.

This time when it singed her fingers, Crystal plucked it from the ground and dropped it hastily in the pouch. Blake watched in amazement as she peered in to see the coal was a glowing red stone.

“A dwarven coal,” he said.

“And so it is,” she agreed. “You agreed to lead me out again,” she noted and he smiled.

“Then come,” he said. “This way to my mother.”

His steps were steady and sure as she followed him once more into the shadowy depths, heading up instead of down.

 

 

Posted in General, serial, Seventh, writing

Seventh Part Ten

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Part Eight | Part Nine

Crystal stared at the maps in front of her, knowing they could tell her nothing she didn’t already know. They hung on the wall behind her usual worktable, dotted and colored with painstaking detail. She’d made meticulous notes over the years. Her gift worked to let her find things she needed, but it was easier when she knew where to look.

Had it been winter, there wouldn’t have even been a question. She could have brought entire carts of it back from the northern side of the mountain in a day, maybe two. A single bag would have been easy.

With summer nearing its peak, there was no way to get even a flake, much less keep it frozen all the way back to Lucinda’s cave.

The door opened, banging into the wall behind it and she looked up. “Crystal? Crystal!”

Juniper slammed the door shut again and pulled her to her feet. The feel of icy hands on her skin startled her. “You’re freezing, are you alright?”

“Yes, yes, yes! I’m fine. Don’t worry about me. I have it.”

“Have what?” Crystal said and Juniper grinned.

“The bag of snow,” she said.

It took Crystal at least a full minute to properly understand what Juniper was saying. “How?”

“I have a friend,” Juniper said. Her excitement came through as a bright glow on her face. “Who knows another person, who once spoke with Godmother Dawn, and they recalled from speaking with Godmother Dawn about where to find a very tiny patch of ice.”

“Ice?”

“Ice,” Juniper said. Her cheeks remained flushed as if she’d just stepped in from a light winter snow, and her eyes blazed with delight.

“Is that why you’re so cold right now? You’ve been digging in ice?”

“What? Oh. Oh, I hadn’t even noticed. That’s not important, what’s important is that I have the bag.”

“A bag of unmelted snow.”

“Yes! The only condition is that I can’t simply give it to someone, I have to trade it,” Juniper said.

“I—oh. You’re not going anywhere near that cave.”

“Of course not. I’ll trade it to you. I can think of at least half a dozen things I’m willing to trade it for. A hot cup of tea sounds lovely.”

“Then one cup of tea, unsweetened, for your bag of snow?” Crystal offered it with a faint lift of her brow. She knew how Juniper liked her tea and the resulting grin was enough to lighten her own bleak mood.

“Agreed.”

“Good,” Crystal said and kissed Juniper’s cheek. “You’re absolutely frozen. It’s a good thing I just took the kettle off. It should still be hot.”

The water was still steaming as Crystal poured it over the leaves. Juniper settled to the kitchen table, her delight clear. The smell of hot tea spread through the kitchen.

“How exactly did you get it?” Crystal questioned as she set the kettle down. She scooped one of the last tarts out of the basket on the sideboard as well.

“Oh, well,” Juniper hummed a little. “It’s a bit…of a story.”

“What sort of story?”

“Nothing serious,” Juniper said. “I just had to go argue with an ice spirit, that’s all. Listen, the bag will only work for a year and a day and it can’t be given, only traded.”

“A year and a day?” Crystal brought the steaming cup over and Juniper wrapped her hands around it.

“Yes,” Juniper said and then smiled, pulling it from her belt. “As agreed. One cup of tea for one bag of snow.”

Crystal took the bag with care. It felt like simple, plain leather and she frowned as she opened it.

“Juni, it’s empty.”

“It is,” Juniper agreed. “Now turn it over.”

A little concerned that Juniper had gotten tricked by a spirit, Crystal nevertheless complied. A few soft flakes drifted out, falling to the kitchen floor where they melted, dotting the floor with miniscule puddles as they faded from crystal to water.

“Snow,” she said.

“One bag of snow,” Juniper said. “It will only work for a year and a day.”

“And after that it will return to being a leather pouch,” Crystal said.

“Yes. If anyone attempts to gift it, it will also stop working, or so I’ve been warned.”

It was probably information she should give Lucinda, she realized, but right now she was more concerned with how cold Juniper was.

“Juni, what did you trade?”

Juniper hesitated and then sighed. “I know you liked that ribbon I wore,” she said and Crystal smiled as she came around to hug her. “And a day of my warmth,” she said.

“Silly, I only like that ribbon because you enjoy wearing it,” Crystal said. “I’m more worried you’ll get too cold.”

“It’s summer,” Juniper replied. “I’ll be alright.”

“Still. I’ll ask Mica and Jasper to stay with you.”

“What about Coal and Jet?”

“I’ll have Coal come with me,” Crystal said.  “Jet can keep watch for us from the farm.”

Juniper smiled and stood, wrapping her arms around Crystal. “Just come back to me, that’s all I ask.”

“Always,” Crystal promised and squeezed her for a moment. “I won’t be long.”

They separated and Juniper smiled. “I have some sewing to do anyways,” she said. “It’s tedious, but I can sit on the back step. It should be plenty warm enough there with the sun.”

Crystal nodded. “I’ll send Mica and Jasper along soon,” she promised.

“Thank you,” Juniper said.

Crystal took the time to collect her lantern, and her longer knife before she left. The farm wasn’t far outside of town, but it still took her several long minutes to reach it. As she approached, she could already see the where her brothers were focusing their efforts, trying to catch up on the work they had missed in the days they’d been trapped by Lucinda.

She knocked all the same, though part of her told her she could have easily gone in. It had been her parent’s home, the same place she’d spent her childhood in.

It wasn’t until Coal swung the door open that she dared to step inside. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

“I have the next item,” she said and a thump from the other room heralded Jasper as he shuffled in. She glanced at him and then back to Coal. “I want you to go with me, and wait at the entrance.”

“Why not go all the way in with you?”

“I can’t risk you like that,” Crystal said. “But I’m not silly enough to think I can carry Flint all the way back home by myself if I don’t get him out before sunset.”

“The sunlight,” Jasper said. “That’s what wakes us.”

Crystal nodded as she looked at him. “Juniper’s at home, can you and Mica sit with her?”

“Of course, but why?”

“That’s how we got the bag of snow,” Crystal said. “There’s a patch of ice she knew where to find, so she traded one day of warmth for the bag of snow. I just want someone to stay and look after her, just in case.”

“We’ll do it,” Jasper said.

“You haven’t even told Mica,” Coal argued and Jasper chortled.

“We’ll do it,” he said. “Are you certain about this?”

“I am,” she said.

“Then let’s go,” Coal said and pulled another lantern from the hook by the door.

“I’ll go get Mica now,” Jasper promised and turned, shuffling off to wherever their oldest brother had hidden himself.

The path up the mountain was becoming familiar, but Crystal felt her heart pounding as she moved along it. If something went wrong, Juniper could be tangled up in the consequences.

Spirits weren’t likely to actively cause harm, but if their prices weren’t paid, they were twice as vindictive as any fae.

Coal stopped her at the entrance. “Are you sure it’s safe for you to go alone?”

“No,” Crystal said. “But I’m even less certain that Lucinda won’t try and tangle you up in this mess as well.”

“I just don’t want you getting hurt,” Coal said.

“I won’t,” Crystal said. “I know what I can offer and I know what she wants.”

“That doesn’t mean much,” Coal counseled. “Don’t take anymore risks than you absolutely have to.”

She smiled. “I won’t,” she said and took a second to adjust the lantern wick. “I’ll be back. Hopefully before sundown.”

Coal only nodded, but his expression indicated he wasn’t sure he liked it. Crystal inhaled once, slowly, and turned back to the cave. A soft wind made the air inside whistle and she had to steel herself for a moment before she went down, stepping into the darkness of the blood fae’s realm.

 

 

Posted in serial, Seventh, writing

Seventh Part Nine

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Part Eight

It was evening by the time they reached the cave. With the evening shadows falling on the rocks, two pale faces stood out, clear against the pitch of the cave behind them. Lucinda chuckled a little as they pulled the cart to a stop.

“The family reunited,” she hummed a little and Crystal drew herself upright, trying to ignore the tension in her neck and shoulders. “One branch of harpy wood, for one brother.”

“One branch, one brother,” Crystal agreed.

Lucinda hummed a little and lifted a hand. Her fingers clicked and instantly, Jet fell forward, dropping onto the ground. Mica and Coal both jerked, as if going to him, only to have Jasper stop them. His gaze however, remained on Lucinda’s face as though he could burn through her with his glare alone.

“We are agreed,” Lucinda hummed and Crystal nodded, motioning to the branch.

“The branch and the branch alone are yours,” she said.

Another click, and the branch vanished, replaced by Jet’s sleeping form. “As agreed,” Lucinda said. “The next item I require is a bag of snow.”

“A bag of snow?”

“Unmelted,” Lucinda said. Her smile displayed her upper fangs. “I’m not picky about where it comes from, but if it proves too hard do remember I can only convert one of your brothers should you choose to skip an item.”

“I’m not leaving any of my brothers behind,” Crystal snarled and jerked towards Lucinda. Jasper’s hand on her shoulder kept her from going too far.

“That’s up to you,” Lucinda said with a shrug. “I’m only giving you options. A bag of snow.”

With that, both she and Blake vanished into the shadows again, fading as the last of the evening sunlight did.

Crystal ground her teeth together and jerked away from Jasper to climb into the back of the with Jet.

“It’s too dark already,” Mica said as she tried to lift Jet up. “There’s not enough sunlight.”

Her jaw tightened until she felt her teeth might break. Forcing herself to inhale, she had to drop her head.

“Let’s get him home,” she said.

The others only nodded once. The horse snorted when Coal clicked his tongue, and started forward again, pulling the cart behind it as they wound down the path.

Years of use had made the road smooth though she could see little divots from other traveling carts. The sun had faded from the horizon by the time they reached town, with the sky truly blackened when they reached the cottage.

A few lights had been left on, but Crystal still jumped out into the darkness, mulling where she could possibly get a bag of snow from. It was summer, none of the mountains would have any.

The door opened, the rattle of the handle jolting her out of her thoughts. Juniper stepped out onto the porch, holding the door as Mica and Jasper worked to pull Jet from the cart and then to haul him up the stairs.

“I’ll get the cart and the horse,” Coal said and nudged Crystal. “I’m sure you want to talk to her.”

Crystal nodded, just once and came up the porch, inhaling a little as she took Juniper’s hand.

“Are you…?” Juniper left it hanging and Crystal smiled.

“I’m alright,” she promised and reached up to retrieve the ribbon falling from Juniper’s hair. “I’m more upset that I keep having to wander off while you’re here.”

“I don’t mind as long as you come home again,” Juniper said and Crystal smiled at that. “You’re peeved.”

“I’m not sure how to solve this one,” she admitted. “She wants a bag of snow.”

“A bag of snow?”

“Yes. Unmelted. There won’t be snow around for miles and even if there was, getting it back before it melts could be impossible,” Crystal explained.

A faint sigh escaped Juniper, and from the candlelight seeping through from the door highlighted the thoughtful pursing of her lips. They stood in silence a moment before Juniper shook her head and squeezed Crystal’s hand. “We’ll think of something,” she said and tugged gently to get Crystal moving up and into the house again. “Did she say how big?”

“No. Just that it was to be a bag of snow.”

“Then tomorrow we’ll need to figure out where to find snow, and how to get a bag of it back.”