Chapter 5

Kristabell had to admit that even she found the interior of the giant office tower unnatural and disorienting. They took the elevator up to the twenty-fifth floor and stepped out into an expensive looking reception area. As Kristabell approached the mahogany desk a receptionist watched her dubiously over the top of her glasses. “How may I help you?” The receptionist asked in a professionally dismissive tone that was followed by an expression of alarm as the woman took in Rowan and Leif. Kristabell looked behind her at the two men who in their discomfiture were looking quite hostile. “My name is Kristabell O'reilly,” Kristabell said turning back to the receptionist but that was as far as she got.

“Oh,” The receptionist perked up. “Yes. We've been expecting you. I'll let Mr. Flanagan know you're here. Just one moment.” Her tweed suited figure disappeared and reappeared within moments. “Mr. Flanagan will see you right away.” She lead them into an eccentrically Victorian looking office where an exceptionally good looking red haired man was waiting. He rose from his desk chair to greet them and as he came around his desk Kristabell was taken aback to find that he was only about four feet ten inches tall. “Hello,” he smiled. “It's good to see you alive. I was sorry to hear about your parents. We had no idea where you were so when we first realized that you weren't killed in the fire we had one of our people fake your death. We thought you would be safer if your enemies thought that you were dead. We didn't freeze your bank account in case you needed money but we had to do some finagling to make sure that no one else was tracking your account either. I know that you haven't used your account so I'm very curious to know where you've been.” He looked at her with inquisitive bright green eyes.

Kristabell's mind was taxed. She was stressed and overburdened. “What are you and who are my enemies?” she demanded ungracefully.

“Well, I am a lawyer, of sorts, and as for your enemies, they would be the exiled prince Seamus and his followers.”

“Why would they be my enemies?”

He looked at her, slightly taken aback. “You don't know?”

She turned to Rowan, even though she knew that he would have an only partial grasp of the conversation, and said in the alternate English, “I don't like it when people say that to me.”

Mr. Flanagan smiled and began to speak. He too had switched to the language of Rowan's world, “That explains where you've been and why you haven't used your bank account.”

Kristabell felt like she was going to explode. “What don't I know!” she almost yelled dropping the pretense of regular English altogether. “I have no idea what's happening or why I'm here. All I know is that my parents told me that if anything ever happened to them that I was supposed to come to you!”

“Come with me,” he said gently. “This will explain things.” He lead them to a little room with a security lock. “Are you fine with these two?” He glanced at Rowan and Leif.

“Yes. I trust them.”

Mr. Flanagan opened the door and motioned to the table within. He left them through an inner door and returned carrying a metal box the size of a shoe box. He placed it on the table, opened it, then pushed it towards Kristabell. She looked in. There were two envelopes and two small boxes. One of the envelopes had her mother's writing on it. She picked it up, opened it, and read.

My Dearest Kristabell,

If you are reading this, it means that your father and I are dead. I wanted you to know that we loved you like you were our own child and that you made us smile and lifted our hearts. That is why we called you Kristabell. It is not the name your mother gave you, but you were like the funny little fairy in the movie about the boy in the green tights. You were our own little fairy. I'm sorry that we didn't share more with you. We were never sure what the right decision was, but you always seemed to know instinctively who and what you were so we thought that perhaps it was safer if we didn't tell you. I'm sorry if it was the wrong decision. There is a letter enclosed from your birth mother. It should explain everything. If you have any other questions Mr. Flanagan can answer them for you.

Love Fionnuala

Kristabell wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand, “Are my parents really dead then?”

“I'm afraid so,” the lawyer admitted.

“What does it say?” Leif asked.

She slid the letter to Mr. Flanagan. “Can you read it out loud? I can't.”

He read and translated the letter. Kristabell looked over at Rowan seeking comfort in his glance but the look in his eyes was guilty and ashamed. He seemed reluctant to meet her eyes. She looked into the box and took out the other letter. It was in the script of Nova Britannia which she still had trouble deciphering. She looked to Rowan but he wouldn't meet her eyes. She turned to Leif. “Would you read this to me?” He nodded. “Thank you.” He broke the seal on the letter and began to read.

Rhiannon,

Right now you are just a tiny baby, and I have had only one hour to hold you, but already they are here to take me away from you, back to the world where you were conceived. I feel like my heart is being ripped out. By the time you read this you will be a grown woman of nineteen. They tell me that that is the age of adulthood in this world. It seems strange to me, as I am only seventeen. I am sorry for exiling you to this strange place. Gavin and Fionnuala will love you. They have lost much as their punishment for helping me conceal my relationship with your father. Your father and I loved each other. Lugh doesn't know that you exist and my parents have made sure that he never will. All I can hope is that your presence in the universe will come to some good. Your father and I, we wanted to break the taboo. We were idealistic and in love. We wanted to prove that there was no harm in fairy and human being together. We would unite our two kingdoms with an heir that was neither fairy nor human, but both. In losing you I have lost both my heart and my hope. My beautiful little girl. I love you.

Your mother,

Sulamith

Kristabell's face was streaming tears. Rowan wouldn't meet her eyes or hold her hand under the table and, strangely, Leif was having trouble maintaining his composure and kept brushing at his eyes as well. He'd barely made it through the letter. The metal box was empty save the two small boxes. One was the size of a book, the other smaller. Both were made of elegantly tooled leather. Kristabell took the small one first and opened it. Inside was a platinum ring in the shape of a little heartsease blossom with rose and green gold accents. The petals were formed of amethysts, and tiny aquamarine dew drops were set on the leaves. There was a little piece of paper in the box with her birth mother's writing on it. She passed it to Leif, “It says that it was a love token from your father to your mother. It is fairy metal work. Very fine, but it will last forever.”

She took the ring out of the box and slipped it onto the middle finger of her right hand where it sat on her pale slim finger like it belonged. Then she opened the last box. Inside was a circlet set with a crescent moon carved from an opal that was full of flashing colour and caught up in a net of silver Celtic knot work. She lifted it and placed it on her brow. Rowan was looking at her now, his eyes filled with remorse. She wasn't ready to deal with what she saw there so she looked away. She took the circlet off and placed it carefully back in its box. She took the box and placed it in her bag with the two letters. Mr. Flanagan lifted a briefcase onto the table. “This is your parent's money. I suggest you use it to disappear. We are a small outfit but we try to help those who come to this world seeking refuge. The house you grew up in belonged to me. I liked your parents. I wish I could have done more. If there is anything I can help you with, just ask. There is more magic in this world than it first seems.”

Kristabell nodded. “Do you think that it's safe for me to walk around the city?”

He tilted his head considering, “I can't guarantee your safety anywhere. But for a few hours, if you don't linger long and you keep those two nearby,” he glanced at Rowan and Lief. “It should be fine. Elves haven't been spotted in the city for weeks. Not since the fire. Just be cautious.”

“Thank you Mr. Flanagan. I'll be gone from Vancouver by mid-afternoon.”

He gave her a serious considering look, “If you decide to return to Nova Britannia go to your father. You would be safest there.”

Kristabell nodded, eager to be away where she could have some space and think. “Goodby,” she said rising from her seat. He shocked her then by kneeling before her and telling her, “It was an honour, my Queen.”

*

Once they were out of the office tower and back on the sidewalk Kristabell followed the random path on which her feet set her. She couldn't think straight. She didn't know what to think. She didn't know who she was. She was numb and distracted. Everything she thought she knew, including Rowan, seemed unsteady like old neglected beams that could collapse under her feet. She wandered on in a blur until suddenly Rowan pulled her back. A car whizzed by. She had almost walked out into moving traffic.

“Kristabell. We can't just wander like this.”

“My name's not Kristabell!” she snapped not meeting his eyes. But he was right. She needed to be somewhere quiet where she could gather her wits. They were just coming back to Georgia Street. She rounded the corner and headed into the lobby of the big posh hotel there. She approached the desk. “I need a room.” She paid in advance using the emergency Visa that her parents had given her that was attached to their account, not wanting to draw attention by taking cash out of the briefcase, and unable to use a debit card without frying the machine, then with Rowan and Leif trailing behind her, she headed for the elevators. She wanted to cry. She wanted to yell and scream at someone, at the world. She didn't want this trail of pain that lead up to her. She opened the hotel room door, held it open for Leif and Rowan, and let it fall closed, thinking that it would be quiet now, but the noise in her head wasn't so easily silenced. Rowan reached out a tentative hand, touched her shoulder but she rounded on him, “You knew! YOU KNEW!” she yelled getting louder and angrier. “Didn't you think I had a right to know who I am? Didn't you think that I would rather hear all that from someone I love? I trusted you!” She hit his chest with her fists as he stood there looking helplessly lost. She looked into his eyes. She saw sorrow, love, remorse. She turned away from him, ran to the bedroom sobbing and slammed the door behind her.

She threw herself on the bed and cried. She cried for her parents whom she had lost and for the mother that she would never know, and then, like a lost child who will never find home again, she cried for herself. After a time the tears slowed and she took out her Ipod. She turned it on and it immediately lost its charge so she took it over to a wall socket, plugged it in, put in her ear buds and lost herself to the music.

*

Leif stood with his back to the room looking out the window, marvelling at Kristabell's strange world. Or . . . Not Kristabell, and . . . not her world, he thought. Leif had, for one brief instant, an urge to round on Rowan as, she, Kristabell—not Kristabell—had, but when he turned and saw Rowan sitting, elbows on his knees, hands clasped behind his head, staring at the floor between his feet, Leif stayed his tongue. He had known Rowan for his entire life and this was the first time that he had ever seen him look dejected. With a long heavy sigh Leif sat on one of the fine plush chairs next to the couch Rowan had occupied. “Look, for what it's worth, I'm sorry I've been such an ass over the last few weeks. It was . . . unreasonable of me to expect you to deny the way you felt for her just because of bad timing. I've been unfair . . . to both of you. And you were right about Nessa.”

They'd had a fight in the armoury about it five days earlier when Rowan had told Leif of his plan to ask Kristabell to be his wife and Leif had tried to dissuade him. It had been more than a fight actually. It had turned into an aggressive shouting match that had nearly become physical and only hadn't because their cousin Lewis had come in and gotten between them. Leif still regretted what he'd said when Rowan had refused to back down. “How are you going to feel if you're dying on some battle field knowing that she's at home with your baby waiting for you to come back to her and you know you're never going to make it!”

Rowan had yelled back, “I'm gonna feel like shit! I'm gonna feel like dog meat! But at least I'll know that I was man enough to put my heart on the line for her!” And that's when Lewis had gotten between them and Rowan had left the armoury with angry tears on his cheeks. Just as he was walking out he'd turned to Leif and said, “It's my heart I'm risking in the end, and if she loves me enough to put her heart on the line too, then I want her that much more. Maybe you don't love Nessa as much as you think you do.” They were brothers. They were best friends. It was the only real fight they'd ever had.

Rowan sat up and looked at Leif. “You know, you and Kris . . .” he started to say Kristabell then sighed. “Let's just say that, I'm not the only person who's been holding my tongue. I'm positive that Gwydion knows who she is and pretty sure that my mother does too. I have no idea why they left it up to me to figure out except . . . that perhaps they, like me, felt that telling her would make her unhappy. That, and put her in even more danger than she's already in. There's something about her that just makes me want to protect her and make her happy.”

It was disconcerting to see Rowan this way. He was accustomed to Rowan's usual highly competent decisive actions. Uncertainty was new. Leif had seen him prove himself on the battle field a dozen times over, he was a brilliant strategist, his plans had won them many victories, but even Leif had to admit that he didn't know what to do with this information. A half Fay Queen would change everything, and Seamus would either want her dead, or want her as his pawn, and either situation would be bad news for Kristabell . . . Rhiannon . . . Whoever she was.

“For the record, I've only known since the night of the harvest gathering. I'd already asked her and she'd already said yes.” He passed Leif the ring. “That was the tip off. She's had it since she was a child. And I didn't know about your parents until today. Krista . . . She never used their names when she talked about them. She just called them mum and dad. I'm . . . sorry.”

Leif pushed the thoughts of his parents away. He'd grown up thinking that they were dead. He was used to the idea that they were dead. Except . . . that all this time they had been alive, and now . . .? They were dead. Everything was the same. Everything was different.

“Are you going to go talk to . . . Her?” Leif asked Rowan.

There was no answer.

“You need to talk to her,” he pushed.

Rowan let out an explosive sigh and for a long horrible moment Leif thought Rowan might cry, “And say what? Find some brilliant new way to make things worse?” His voice was hoarse and he had ground the heels of his hands into his eyes and leaned back on the couch like that.

Leif decided that he would rather go talk to the crying girl in the other room than stay there with Rowan. The truth was that he actually did like her. Not the way Rowan did, but there was a quality about her that reminded him of something that, until now, he had been unable to place. If he had taken the time to get to know her better he probably would have figured out who she was on his own and he would have made the same choice as Rowan. Keep things quiet, and get her to her father. He knocked on the door to the hotel bedroom and waited. There was no answer. She probably thinks it's Rowan, he thought to himself, and slowly turned the handle.

*

When Leif came out of the room a short time later he took one look at Rowan and said, “Go. Talk. She needs you.”

*

Modern music was one of the few aspects of this world that she would miss. She flipped through her Ipod and listened to her favourite songs one last time savouring the gritty intensity that existed in rock and pop but that didn't always come through in folk music. She remembered listening to music with her dad in the living room. He'd put on a C.D. and say, “What do you think of this?” They'd sit, listen, talk. She lost herself in the memory. She wasn't surprised when she saw the door opening, but she was surprised to see who was opening it. He closed the door behind him and sat awkwardly on the edge of the bed. She pulled out the ear buds. He was quiet for a few moments before asking, “Your parents, what were they like?”

She stared down at the Ipod in her hands for a moment before answering, “They were sad and quiet. They took pleasure in small things. My mother liked to care for me physically. Make me food, brush my hair, make sure my fingernails were trim and clean, knit me sweaters. My father would take me for long walks. When I was small he would carry me up high on his shoulders. He was a firefighter, which is about as close as you can get to being a knight in this world without joining the military. That's all I really knew of them. That, and that they loved me.”

Leif nodded quietly before telling her, “Gavin and Fionnuala were my parents. They disappeared when I was three. My father was in the Queen's army. My mother was one of her ladies. No one knew what happened to them. My father was Rowan's father’s cousin. That's why I was raised by his family.”

Kristabell felt like all the sorrow of the worlds, the pain of every lost child, was lodged in her chest. She reached out, unable to speak, and took Leif's big rough hand in her own much smaller one and sat quietly beside him. “I feel like bursting back into tears. If I think too hard about this tangled web it threatens to swallow me whole, but right now, I'm just going to be glad that I have a brother.” Then with a start she remembered, “The lullaby!” And tears did roll down her cheeks then, when she thought of who's arms had rocked her, and who's voice had hummed that melody when those very arms must have been desperately aching for a different child.

Leif smiled. It was a sad smile. “He used to sing that to me. I can't remember the words just the melody. It's his harp that I play. I think that he wrote that song himself because I haven't been able to find out the words from anyone.”

“It's stupid of me I know, I've noticed things that are too obvious to ignore but, my life, this world . . . They haven't left me a very confident person. I've noticed the way some people look at me and I've wondered if maybe my connection to your world might be more than accidental and it is stupid, I know it is, to have ignored these things, and to have told myself that it was just my imagination, or that I was just being paranoid, or that it was just wishful thinking, but one thing that I shouldn't have ignored is how much like our father you are. You're just like him. Your manner. Your face. Even through your beard I can see it. I know that you don't like me . . .”

“No . . .” he cut her off and for a moment his face worked. “I like you just fine. The way I've treated you has nothing to do with you and everything to do with my own issues. I like you just fine. I've been rude.” He paused again before asking, “Am I really like him? Mark always said that I was but I was never sure if he told me that just to comfort me or if it was true.”

“He had short hair and always needed to be clean shaven for his work. But I'm willing to bet that if I could have seen him bearded or if you were to shave, that I wouldn't be able to tell you apart immediately. For the last month I've thought about it so many times but I kept brushing it off.”

They sat in silence until Kristabell passed Leif one of the ear buds. “Put this in your ear,” she told him as she scrolled through the menu and stopped at Fleetwood Mac. “My Dad downloaded this for me. He was always really into music. This was his favourite.”

At first Leif thought that the Ipod was magic but once he started to pay attention to the music he was completely drawn in. They sat together listening to everything from Hard Rock to Freak Folk and talking like any brother and sister would. Eventually Leif sighed and looked at Kristabell, “It's good to know. It's good to finally know what happened to them.” Then he sighed again and, like a lecturing older brother, told her, “You know, you're wrong to be angry with Rowan. He's the best of men and I would follow him anywhere. He doesn't deserve your anger. He's out there torturing himself right now. He loves you. He's afraid of losing you. Everything that he knew, he figured out for himself after he'd already asked you to be his. He never told anyone, not even me. He couldn't. If you were caught by Seamus's men you would be tortured for information and you can't tell what you don't know. He was doing the right thing by not telling you and I can't imagine that he planned on keeping it from you for long. You need to give him a chance. You need to hear him out.”

“I didn't mean to yell at him. I wish I hadn't. He told me two nights ago to trust him and that everything would make more sense when we reached Lugh's stronghold. I didn't realize . . . Everything is just so . . .”

“It's alright. He'll understand.” Leif rose to go.

“Here.” Kristabell pulled out her other ear bud and passed it to Leif. She gave him her Ipod and showed him how to use it. “It'll maintain its charge longer if I give it to you. When we go home it won't work for long. Keep it plugged into the wall until we leave here.” Kristabell sighed, “It was a gift from my Dad.” Leif took the Ipod reverently, unplugged it from the wall socket, and left the room.

Kristabell laid down and curled up on her side. This was much bigger than she had ever imagined it could be. When she had first met Rowan she had fantasized that maybe she really was from his world and now she felt like an extra piece to an already completed puzzle. When Rowan asked her to be his wife she had felt as if she finally belonged somewhere. But she remembered the strange look in his eyes when she had given him her mother's ring. She remembered Rowan's mother and the sadness that would sometimes creep into her eyes when she looked at Kristabell. And Gwydion, all of the things that he had almost said to her and then changed his mind about. Rowan knocked at the door then. She knew it was him. She didn't say anything but the door opened slowly and he came in. He sat down next to her. “I don't know what to call you,” he said softly, sadly.

“I don't know who I am. It's funny, I've spent my life not knowing and being okay with that. I knew that I was adopted but my parents never told me about my origins and I never asked.”

“I was going to tell you,” Rowan said looking into her eyes. “I was about an hour away from telling you. I had it all planned out. As soon as we passed the barrier into the stronghold I was going to take you to the hollow tree near there and sit with you, and tell you everything that I knew. I didn't want you to find out like this, I wanted to wait until you were safe.”

Rhiannon thought about the fact that her safety was now such a huge issue and how Rowan must have felt about that. All of the extra pressure and responsibility he'd shouldered on her account. “Rowan, this is all too much for me,” she said, overwhelmed.

“I know. And for the record, I didn't fall in love with the Queen's daughter. I fell in love with a girl who loves cabbages. In the beginning all I knew was that you were half Fay. I didn't figure out the rest of the story until the night I proposed to you.”

“How did you know that I was half Fay? I didn't know.”

“I knew the first moment I touched you. I could feel your magic with my hands. And when you came to, we could understand each other. That was another pretty good tip off. It's the dryad blood. But also, the colour of your eyes and the fact that your body hair feels like rabbit fur,” he shrugged. “I figured that you were some poor Fairy woman's half human bastard child taken to the other world to conceal her folly, a changeling. I figured that you had wandered back to your world of origin when you found your magic, which tends to happen at around this age. Only the Fay can cross between the worlds. You have to understand though, that in our world it's frowned upon to have Fairy blood. The truth is that other than Fenna who is, as of yet, only a little bit fay, you're the only other human Fay cross I've ever officially met.”

“What are you saying Rowan?” She looked at him wanting him to just come out and say it. He didn't usually beat around the bush about anything and right now she really wished he would be direct.

“Yesterday when they were tearing down the grove, you and I were the only ones who could hear the trees screaming in our heads.”

“You're like me?” She looked at him incredulously.

He nodded. “No one outside our family knows.”

She heard it, “Our family,” and it made her feel less displaced. Less lost.

He continued, “Fenna, Nessa, and Leif know, but not the boys. Gwydion knows, and of course my mother and my grandmother, but I'm not sure about my father. We don't talk about it at all. My grandmother told me when I was sixteen. It was she who took a fairy lover. It was just for one night and my mother hasn't got a hint of Fayness about her, but I guess it skipped a generation. I was brought up hiding it and I assumed that it wouldn't please you to know. It didn't stop me from loving you, so I figured that it didn't warrant mentioning. I'm sorry.”

By the time he was finished telling her this they were sitting side by side, fingers laced, kissing softly. She leaned back and looked into his eyes. “I'm sorry that I shouted at you. It wasn't really you I was angry at and I do trust you.” She kissed him again then asked him, “What about the rest of the story, how did you figure that out?”

He unlaced his fingers from hers and took off the ring she had given him. “Here, pass me the ring I gave you.” She slipped the ring off her finger and passed it to Rowan. “Look at this.” He tipped the rings so that she could see that the hallmarks inside the were the same. “This is the stamp of the royal metal workers. The patterns on the ring I gave you are the symbols of my family's home. We took the symbol of the raven. This pattern,” he motioned to the ring that she had given him, “Is, of course, rowan branches. The rowan tree is the symbol of the House of Lugh, the King of the Fairies of Nova Britannia. This pattern is carved all around the door of his house. The house that you and I are both descended from. So you see, you and I, we were meant to be.” He gave her one of his calculated sideways smiles and she felt like she was back at his home sitting next to him on a cart or at the table.

“Does this mean we're cousins?”

“Our grandparents are first cousins. We're not too related. Not so related that it matters.”

Kristabell sat silently thinking for a moment, feeling her confusion like a physical ache.

“I didn't realize that you were the queen's daughter until you gave me that ring,” he said very soberly as he passed her ring back to her then slid his own ring, the one that had been Kristabell's mother's, back onto his finger. “As soon as I saw it I knew, and everything fell into place. Seamus' accusation of the queen and what that accusation must have been. It was 19 years ago and you're 18 years old. Your resemblance to the Queen, it isn't so strong a resemblance that one would necessarily assume that you were related to her, but when you smile you look like her, and you have the same way of gazing softly into the distance like you're seeing something wonderful that no one else can see. You're smaller than she was with darker hair and eyes, but there is a quality about you that is very similar. Even more uncanny is your resemblance to your grandmother and sister. It was when I saw the ring that I realized not just what you are, but who you are. Your mother must have had the ring made as a love token, but been unable to give it to your father. Your existence, if it becomes known, will cause major political upheaval. Based on the laws of Nova Britannia, both Human and Fay, you are the rightful Queen and heir to the Fay throne.” Rowan sighed. “I didn't know what to do with this knowledge. Being who you are puts your life at risk. If anyone who would oppose you finds out about you . . . I don't know.” He shook his head. “That's why I wanted to take you to your father. He would at the very least keep you safe, but we didn't make it there. I didn't tell you because I wanted to keep you safe, and there is a part of me that wishes that I could have kept this from you forever. I love you the way you are. I don't need a Queen, but I need you. When I asked you to be my wife, I figured that we would settle down at my family home, make babies, grow barley, and be happy. It was selfish of me, but for the first hour after you said yes, a part of me believed that if I ignored who you were it would go away and I could have the girl I fell in love with.”

“I love you. I'm so sorry that I shouted at you,” Kristabell whispered.

“I would have shouted too. I'm sorry that this is happening to you. If I could take it all away I would.” He sighed and moved her hair so that it was all falling down her back then brought some of it back over her shoulder again almost as if he wasn't fully aware that he was doing it. “I still don't know what to call you.”

It was on her mind as well. Kristabell was the name she had carried in this world and she was leaving it. Her birth mother had given her a different name. A beautiful name. “Kristabell feels like a child's name to me and even though I still occasionally feel like one, I'm not a child. Rhiannon is a beautiful name, and it is the name that the woman who gave birth to me wanted me to have, but I don't quite feel like Rhiannon yet either.”

Rowan nodded then sighed again, “Someone somewhere knows who you are. The fact that your house was torched is pretty clear evidence of that. The fact that someone from our world has been looking out for you all this time, and that even Gavin and Fionnuala never told you about your origins suggests that even here, you were in some danger. You may not have a choice. You may have to come forward. In the end it may be safer than trying to hide and spending your life looking over your shoulder. Whatever happens, whatever you have to do, you have my allegiance and my support. I would fight for you.”

“I know,” Kristabell sighed looking into Rowan's eyes not really wanting to think over the weighty implications of his words.

They sat in silence for a few minutes before she spoke. “I think that I need a half an hour to pull myself together before we leave here but, would it be alright, do you think, if I show you a little bit of this world before we leave it for good?”

“I would like that,” Rowan smiled.

“Well I'm going to take a bath before we go. I'll bet this place has a gorgeous bathroom and I paid for it so I might as well use it.”

Kristabell grabbed her bag and went to the bathroom. She closed the door behind her and took off her clothes while she ran the water. She brushed all of the tangles out of her hair then kept brushing until it shone. She looked at herself in the mirror. Rhiannon. She tried it out in her head first then said the name out loud, “Rhiannon.” It was easy to apply the name to the image she saw in the mirror. She really had changed in the last month. She noted again, as she had in Bronwen's mirror, the refinement and maturity that hadn't been there before. She examined her features, the deep blue eyes and red lips. The angles of her eyes and cheekbones gave her a beguiling, almost mischievous yet oddly solemn look. Was that the fairy in her? She closed her eyes, watching the angle of her dense, long, ash coloured eyelashes for as long as she could before her eyes closed all the way, then pulled them open again. She ran her hands over her body. She wasn't proportioned the way some small women are. Proportionately speaking her arms and legs were long. She was built more like a tall slim woman only slightly miniature. She let a hand travel over the soft hair between her legs. She'd thought that everyone had soft body hair like that. She turned off the tap, wrapped her hair in a towel to keep it dry then stepped into the big bathtub and soaked.

The hot water did its magic, loosening all of the horrible knots in her stomach and shoulders. She pushed all of the things in her life that she couldn't control to the periphery and let her mind play over the name once more. Rhiannon. It felt right in a way. She moved on to other things like how she was going to get them home. There was a feeling that she'd had of something building in her both times she had crossed now. It was a feeling that she had been scared of for years now and, like desire, she had pushed it away. She was pretty sure that she just needed to tap into that feeling again, and that when the time came, she would be able to do it. She turned to more pleasant thoughts though. She was as it turned out strongly connected to Rowan's family both by her adoptive parents and her biological parents. That made so much sense when she thought about it. Kristabell didn't feel the stigma against her lineage that Rowan did and to her the idea of being half fairy gave her a sense of pride. It explained the strange otherness that she had battled with her whole life. Now she was able to enjoy the fact that she wasn't a freak. She was magic. She pulled the plug, rose from the water, towelled dry and brushed her hair once more. Brush in bag, she dressed quickly and left the bathroom.

“Let's go get something to eat,” she said to Rowan, who was looking out the window in disturbed fascination at the city sprawl below. “After we eat there's only one thing I want to do, then we'll go back to Sheila's, get the horse and go home.”

Kristabell went to the elegant walnut desk, took out paper and pen and wrote two notes. She opened the briefcase and took out a wad of cash. It was probably more than she needed but she didn't want to risk running out. She then placed one of the notes inside the briefcase and locked it placing the key in a separate envelope along with the other note that she had written. Once they were in the lobby she took the briefcase to the concierge. “Could you please have this couriered to Sheila Taylor, at Buds and Blossoms Garden Centre at Cambie and Forty-third?”

“No problem Miss.”

She took out some bills and asked, “Will this cover the expense for a rush delivery?”

“It certainly will.”

She handed him the cash and told him, “I don't need change.”

The busy sidewalks made Rowan downright twitchy and by the time they arrived at the little restaurant that was tucked in a basement on the edge of the bad side of downtown Kristabell's hand hurt from how tightly he had held it. Leif on the other hand didn't seem phased. The restaurant was a funky little place with a bright earthy interior and the most delicious raw vegan food in the city. Kristabell ordered them kale stuffed nori wraps, smoothies, and romaine tacos stuffed with walnuts, avocado and fresh salsa. There was mellow reggae playing on the stereo and the combination of the good food and the happy atmosphere were restorative.

“I don't think that I could cope in this world,” Rowan commented between bites. “It's too busy. It's overwhelming. Food's good though.”

“What you've eaten so far is completely non standard,” Kristabell said thinking of the vegetarian lasagna they'd eaten the night before at Sheila's. “Meat between buns is closer to the norm.”

“Oh. Yuck. And here I was thinking that the food would be a redeeming quality.”

“In a way I'd like to try coping here,” Leif admitted. “There are some things about this world that I find compelling, and my father lived here for almost twenty years. It would be interesting to see what his life was like.”

“But how do you get used to the noise, the concrete, and the hustle?” Rowan asked.

Kristabell took a long pull on her smoothie then admitted, “I've never become fully accustomed to it and I've had it around me my whole life.”

“What was that thing we watched yesterday?” Leif asked.

“Oh. The television?”

“That thing was terrifying. What were those images we were seeing?” This was from Rowan.

“There's a civil war on the other side of the planet,” Kristabell told them, hoping that it was an adequate answer.

There was a girl sitting at the table next to them with teal dreads and big hazel eyes. Kristabell had noticed her glancing their way every few minutes. She wasn't sure what had drawn the girl's attention, whether it was Leif, Rowan, or the three of them together, then the girl seemed to come to some kind of decision and said, “I hope you don't mind me asking but, what language are you speaking?”

Kristabell had forgotten that they weren't speaking standard English. “Um, I guess you could say that it's a rare British dialect. You'll probably never hear it again.”

“Oh,” the girl said then asked. “Does he speak English?” nodding and smiling at Leif.

“Not really,” Kristabell answered.

“Would you mind asking him if he's free tonight?”

“Actually, we're leaving town this afternoon. Sorry,” Kristabell told the teal headed girl apologetically.

“Too bad,” the girl winked at Leif as she rose from her seat to leave.

Kristabell told Leif that he'd just been hit on by the blue haired girl.

He raised his eyebrows. He turned and watched the girl make her way out of the restaurant then turned his attention back to the table, “As I said, there are certain aspects of this world that I find compelling.” He smiled.

They laughed.