Page 62 of A Sanctuary from Shadow
I bit down on my question but couldn’t keep it in. “Did you ever have a—thing—for my mom?” Briar’s eyes rounded, his shock unchecked. “Did she look a lot like me? If we were too similar, wouldn’t it be kind of like—?”
“Amy, I was never infatuated with your mother. She was more like my sister. And before you ask, no, that doesn’t mean I’ve had sex with someone I should consider my niece. I’ve never seen you as anything other than my future wife. Sure, you resemble your mother in many ways. In others, you don’t.”
“How—how am I different from her?”
Briar’s irritation softened at my curiosity. He scratched the back of his auburn head. “Appearance-wise? I suppose you’re a tad taller than she was. Slenderer too. She had a few more, uh, endowments than you.” I could’ve cringed, hearing this as a judgment of my B-cups and barely-there booty. “But you’re both suited to what Danu gave you. Although, Ginny would’ve killed for your nose.”
I touched its sharp tip. “Really?”
“Mm-hm. She thought her nose was too wide, too undefined. I always thought it was cute, like Vi’s, but Ginny wanted her mother’s. She was ecstatic when you inherited it.”
Somehow, knowing my mother had insecurities made me feel better about myself. “Did her eyes ever change color?”
Briar’s brows touched. “Change color?”
“Yeah, like mine do.”
“You mean they aren’t always hazel?”
I stared at him, unable to breathe. Had I given my virginity to someone who didn’t know the true nature of my eyes? I bet he’d notice Laurel’s eyes changing colors.
“Huh,” Briar grunted, scrutinizing me. “I wonder what that means.”
I shifted, uncomfortable beneath my damp, woven blanket, and huddled into my knees. The dawn was crisp, mist chilling me in my lightweight clothes.
Groaning, Briar pushed to his feet. “Looks like we’re traveling alone.” He sounded more casual than I presumed he felt, his squadron still AWOL—probably dead. “We’d better get moving soon. I’ll forage for breakfast.” He grabbed a brown paper bag out of his backpack. “You stay here—rekindle the fire.”
As Briar plodded into lush flora, I stared at our ashen rock circle, wondering why he assumed I knew how to rekindle a fire. I knew nothing about fire—except that I could spray it from my fingers like a blowtorch. Maybe I’d try that.
When Briar returned, I knelt over the fire ring, trying to ignite kindling with my mind, swearing up a storm. He laughed, took a knee beside me. “So, not only do you look like your mother, but you curse like her too.”
I met his dancing eyes, smiling despite my failure.
After Briar restarted the fire and cooked us a berry energy drink using camping supplies from his pack and fresh water from thin air, we readied for our journey. After tackling the basics (thank Danu, Briar had packed toilet paper), we discussed our problematic wardrobes.
Briar pondered my modern Americanness. “The problem we’ll face now, Amy, is blending in.”
I peered down at my grass-stained shorts and damp tee. I’d never blended into the human world. Was he now saying I’d stick out even in fairy land? “You didn’t seem to care about blending in while we were packing.”
“We had no shot at blending in with a full cavalcade under a royal banner. It didn’t matter, though. You’d have been protected.”
Mentioning that the cavalcade had probably been wiped out in one fell swoop seemed tactless. Regardless, one attack in the fae realm, and we’d be in similar straits.
“If we journey on dressed like this, Gentian’s spies will easily detect us. Guaranteed, no other fae we encounter will be wearing shorts and UPJ tee shirts.”
Do they even have colleges here?“What do you propose we do?” I asked. “Buy new wardrobes at the local mall?”
Briar chuckled. “Not exactly, but I know someone who lives nearby. She can help us.” He sliced his hand through the air above the fire, dousing it with a bucketful of water. I marveled as steam hissed from the coals.
Briar grabbed his pack, shrugged it onto squared shoulders. “Let’s get moving, Larkspur. Time to meet your first Witch.”
“Holyshit,”Igasped,tripping over my own feet when we broke through the forest line. I forgot to be winded. Forgot that my feet hurt. That my legs were tired from hiking along uncut paths through dense woods. That I was frightened of every strange new creature I encountered. I lost control of my jaw as a storybook world of verdant fields, vibrant wildflowers, blooming trees, and sparkling streams sprawled before me. The sun—or suns, as I was flabbergasted to see (one brighter and closer than the other)—rose above distant lavender mountains in starbursts of magenta and gold, outlining cotton candy clouds. I stood on the edge of Avalon; its magnificence thieved my breath.
Briar nudged me. “Welcome to Evereostre, Amy.” His pride gleamed against a backdrop of emerald and blush. “Or should I say welcome home?”
Home, I thought, gazing upon a wonderland words failed to describe. Recalling brownstones, coffee shops, and shelves of romance novels, a pit formed in my stomach. I forced a smile for Briar.This isn’t my home.
“Come on.” He forged into the springy sweet pasture, looking not the least bit weary, though he hadn’t slept. That energy drink he’d made must’ve worked wonders for him. For me, the effects wore off midway through our trek. “Tamsyn’s house isn’t far from here.”
