Claudia

  Once I grew tired of dancing, I received an invitation to join some of my new friends for a meal. They were half-fae at most, with other races mingling in throughout their family line, no doubt. The fae weren’t picky with who they loved, though more often than not, their descendants were unable to enter the fae realm after a generation. That meant the families that chose closeness could only see their otherworldly relatives during times like the Jubilee. It’s part of what made the celebration so popular.

  “Do you have any allergies or preferences?” The mother, Cali, asked.

  “No allergies and whatever you are willing to share will be fine,” I replied. Ken, the father, looked up from his cooking to eye me curiously. I met his gaze with my own curiosity, and brushed my hair behind my ear, giving him a clearer view. He nodded and removed a few spices from the rack before returning to his cooking.

  Certain foods that were fine for fae were less so for humans. I nodded back, placing my hand briefly on my heart to indicate my gratitude for the consideration. He simply smiled in response.

  “How have things been here on the outskirts of the other world?” I asked, leaning back into my seat.

  “We have simply been a bustle with activity preparing for the Jubilee. It may have just been a year since we last got to see our loved ones, but sometimes it feels like a lifetime,” Cali responded. Their two daughters played a few feet away, jumping around trailing colorful streamers as they chased each other around the campfire.

  “This past year certainly has felt longer than it had any right too. But the waiting will be over soon, and you will be able to make up for lost time.”

  “You speak as one who understands the wait. Have you found yourself in a similar situation?”

  “Not the same but similar enough that I can understand. It’s not easy having to go so long with little news of the ones you care about. Though, it was my understanding that there is some communication that happens through the gateway. Batches of letters passed across the boundary every full moon and new moon.”

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  “That is not incorrect,” Ken said carefully. “The climate on the other side tends to shift some around the time of the Jubilee, and our personal correspondence is much lower in priority than the communiques between the courts and their representatives.”

  “If you don’t mind my asking, how long has it been since you last received a letter from the other side?” I asked softly.

  “It’s been a few months,” Cali admitted. “The guards have assured us that there’s no cause for concern. Only courtly matters taking precedence.”

  Sensing her discomfort, I let the matter drop, and soon the meal was ready. The children paused in their playing at some unseen signal from their father and came to join us around the fire. Their eyes were full of the wonder and curiosity that came naturally to the fae, and to children, but otherwise I could see no signs of their ancestry. Chances were their markings would become more clear when they got older, because they never fully faded from the family line. They did become less obvious through the generations, though.

  As the food was served, the children took over the conversation, dragging us adults along through the adventures they pretended to have gone on in the lands of the fae. Those stories were wild and silly and so incredibly improbable that they could only have happened on the other side of the gateway.

  “The line is strong in your family,” I commented as the children focused their yammering at their father, who dared to pose a question.

  “Indeed it is,” Cali said, pride shining in her eyes. “We carry the lineage of a few courts within us, so the gifts shine through all year long, shifting with the seasons to match the courts.”

  “I bet that makes things especially interesting having two children stuck in the throes of whimsy all summer.”

  “Whimsy is spring,” the girl next to me protested. “Summer is for sailing, not frollicking.”

  “Oh yes, please forgive my mispeaking,” I said, caught a little off guard by her intensity. Cali and Ken exchanged nervous looks, but I pretended to not notice any strangeness. The girls continued to share their stories of running through the tall grasses on the outskirts of a keep covered in flowers.

  I knew something was wrong, though. The girls should not have still been in spring. What that meant for our world and the world of the fae, I couldn’t tell, but it did make me wonder. I tapped absentmindedly on the talking stone, and seconds later, Maguire tapped back. Part of me considered going to find him, but I didn’t want to pull him from any fun he may be having and plus, the time was growing closer for my clandestine meeting.

  Maybe the pixies wanted to ask me for help, and maybe this discrepancy was why.