Page 15 of Crown of Wings and Whispers

Griffon leaned close and spoke in my ear. “Mortals usually see what they expect to see. Considering the…connectionbetween us, I had supposed you saw things as they really were.”

The hissing resumed as soon as my foot cleared the threshold. I watched to see if Bridie reacted. She didn’t. And Griffon said nothing.

Once his mother was convinced I could see straight, she sent Griffon away and led me back to the closet. The dull clothes had all been replaced by jewel-encrusted things with dramatic collars and vibrant colors that switched back and forth when the fabric moved. Some of the fabric seemed to move on its own!

Bridie assured me everyone attending the wake would be wearing something similar, that none of Daphne’s dresses would be out of place or overboard. And though I couldn’t quite believe it, there were no understated options.

I chose a gown with irregular vertical stripes of orange, russet, yellow, and green and refused to consider anything with purple in it. Only after I’d tried it on and committed to wearing it did I realize that bit of orange was the exact shade of my old café uniform. And though I’d sworn off that color for the rest of my life, I wondered if it might be a helpful little reminder, of who I really was.

A simple girl from the western states playing dress-up in a gown meant for a queen.

5

Quiet And Disquiet

Naturally, I was happy to do anything to make Griffon take a second look, so I accepted Bridie’s offer to lend me something from her jewelry case. While she went to fetch some options, I dug through Daphne’s top drawer full of odd things and found a small handkerchief to wrap Hank in, then I tucked him into my bra under my left boob. I hurried back to the bookshelves—now made of smooth branches and twisted vines--and dug out the black leather box once more.

I flipped the latch and opened the lid, braced for anything. But the stones lay just as they had. Nothing extra glittery about them. Still, no gold adornments. And though everything in the house now glistened or sparkled, the rocks looked no more impressive than before.

“You can stop hissing,” I whispered to them. “I’m not going to touch you.” I closed the lid and slid the box back. By the time I resumed my place in front of the full-length mirror, the only stone hissing at me was Hank.

Bridie swept back into the room holding up a necklace of brown teardrops. The light reflected off thousands of facets and hinted at their stunning value. “Chocolate diamonds. What do ye think?”

“I couldn’t possibly—”

“Nonsense. Ye can’t run about naked, now can ye? And without adooornments, that’s how ye’ll be seen.”

I took the “adornments,” the dress, and a pair of green shoes up the waterfall steps to Griffon’s room. The space hadn’t changed in size, but it now resembled the inside of a treehouse with the drastically angled ceiling and tree trunks making up parts of the walls. The paintings and boxes were still there, along with the dresser and desk, and when I checked out the window, the small barn was still a small barn, right where it was supposed to be.

I doubted I would be able to sleep anywhere else in that wildly overgrown house that resembled some hidden glen in the Scottish Highlands, but here, in Griffon’s private treehouse, I believed I could.

* * *

The restof the evening was torture. Most of the conversation revolved around Daphne and other people—or Fae—I didn’t know. But what I did remember was holding Griffon’s hand.

We held hands on the porch and watched the sky change colors and finally darken. At that point, I was too cold to stay outside, so we all moved into the large living room where Archer built a fire in a stone fireplace. I kept my eyes peeled for magical things and wouldn’t have been surprised to see pieces of wood walking themselves into the fire. Other than the natural setting, however, nothing remarkable happened.

Griffon and I sat as close as possible on a smooth wood bench and held hands like we were afraid someone would try to separate us. At one point, when his fingers started massaging mine, Archer rolled his eyes and left the room. When I realized his mother was also growing uncomfortable, I laughed and pulled my hand away. Griffon settled his arm around my shoulder and tapped his fingers on the back of the bench instead.

Finally, he got to his feet. “I’ll just take Lucy up to her room, then, shall I?”

“Good idea,” Archer said from the doorway. “Then you can come kiss our mother goodnight. She looks done in. But dinnae fash. I’ll stay up to make sure all the fires are good and out.”

The way Bridie blinked, we all realized he was right. She did look worn out. And we knew he wasn’t just talking about the actual fire.

“I think it’s better if I find my own way,” I said and told everyone goodnight. Griffon let me go, though reluctantly. I think he realized, just as I did, that he’d end up leaving his mother waiting too long if he came upstairs. It was hard enough keeping our hands off each other with his family in the room. If we were alone, we’d be in trouble.

On my way up the second waterfall, I reached down to scoop some cold water onto my face. It was soft and cool, and dried almost instantly.

Enchanted water. I made a mental note not to drink it.

* * *

There aredifferent kinds of silence.

In my apartment in Idaho, the building creaked and cracked like pine wood in a firepit. In Wyoming winters, the wind blew more days than not, so there was always a shushing noise in the background. In the summer, crickets, insects, and the song of frogs made it through the open windows, even in the bigger cities.

Life was noisy.

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