Page 75 of The Source of Storms

She was quiet a moment, then said, “Because I’m afraid. And I have nowhere else to go. I can’t go home. I can’t tear apart our family, not anymore. It’s just easier this way. Easier to go with it, rather than fight against it.”

“Byrgir once told me that it’s better to fight for the right thing than to keep the peace,” I said. “At some point, staying quiet and taking the easy way will cost you more than risking the leap. But that choice is yours to make.”

We stared quietly at the gray-green water for a long time. We walked back to the steading in silence.

∞∞∞

Father waited for us in the living room when we returned.

“Halja,” he said, and made to cross the room toward me. But he stopped short when he saw my face, my newly revealed fae features. Surely he’d known this day would come, that he’d have to look me in my true face. But the look of shock told me he had not prepared himself for it.

Nevertheless, his hesitation lasted only a moment. He crossed the room and hugged me. I hugged him back. So it would be like this then, like nothing ever happened. No apology, no confrontation, no acknowledgment, just swept under the rug as if it didn’t matter. But that was the way of our family, the way of my father. If you didn’t speak of it, it couldn’t be real. Even if the reality you had always feared was staring you straight in the face.

“Good to have you home,” he said.

“Good to see you too. Where’s Byrgir?”

“In the kitchen helping Noirin with dinner. Halja, is he…?”

“No,” I said quickly. I already saw the judgment in his eyes. Of course the first thing he wanted to know was the nature of my relationship to Byrgir. An inherited and conditioned shame that I did not want, did not even understand, twisted around my lungs.

“Will you stay for dinner?” my mother asked.

“We really should be getting back to Skeioholm. It’s a long ride back to Rhyanaes.”

I regretted it as soon as I said it. The disappointment on her face made my chest ache. Despite my anger, I had missed her. And I had always felt sorry for her, trapped in a life she never seemed to want. Now I finally understood the whole of it, and that understanding only made it more painful.

“You should stay here tonight. It’s already getting late,” she said.

“We can stay for dinner, but we need to be leaving tonight.” We didn’t, really. But I didn’t think I could stay here and pretend like everything was alright, fold back into the same familial pattern with my father who was not my father.

I walked into the kitchen. Byrgir was standing at the counter, chopping carrots. He looked up at me and his eyes widened.

“Hal?” he asked.

“Still me,” I said with an uncertain half smile.

He approached and put his hands on my shoulders, looking intently at my face. He raised a hand and touched one of my long ears, then pushed my hair back behind it. He traced the same hand down my cheek, my nose, below my eye. Gentle, yet intentional. I was ablaze beneath his touch, a ripple of energy radiated through me wherever his fingers traveled. My vision tunneled, the rest of the world falling away until it was just us, just the glow of this moment.

“So you’re fae,” he said.

“Archfae,” I answered, nearly a whisper.

“Archfae? That’s… that’s incredible Hal.”

“You like it?” I asked, surprised.

“You’re stunning,” he said, no hesitation, no falseness, and my heart stumbled in its rhythm. “I mean, I loved your face how it was. And I’ll have to get used to this but… You were beautiful before and now… now it hurts to look at you.”

Noirin cleared her throat behind us, breaking the spell that bound us there together. I hadn’t even realized she was in room. He stepped back from me, turning toward her and leaving my new face in clear view.

“Halja? What the hell?” Noirin said.

My mother entered behind me. “Halja is only your half sister, Noir.” Blunt, to the point. I liked this change of pace for her, for all of us. “And she isn’t human. She’s fae. And you’re half fae, because I’m fae too.”

My father stormed in behind her. “We agreed never to speak of this, Istra. Never!”

“Enough!” I whirled on him, the anger I had bottled up bursting out again. “Enough of this ridiculous game! She deserves to know who she is! Who our mother is! There is nothing wrong with us, Father. Nothing to hide, to be ashamed of. Enough lies.”

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