Fabled (10 page)

“Here! Try these on. You’ll need some heavy boots with all the traveling you’ll be doing,” he said bringing them to me.

I looked at the ankle boots that I was wearing, which were not meant for any type of hiking. Knock off brands usually aren’t known for their all-terrain capabilities. I slipped on the tall boots he gave me, laced them up, and stood.
 

“They fit!”

“They’re yours.” He smiled.

The boots went all the way above my knee and under my costume’s bloomers. They were worn-in, which made them all the more comfortable. Chester sent me a smile, and we prepared to leave.

“Wait!” yelled the smallest of them all. He held a satchel he had been working on since I’d arrived. It had a long strap with a small wolf’s paw print in the right corner of it.
 

“It’s beautiful,” I told him.

“It’s for you. And that,” he pointed to the claw mark, “is because you escaped from the wolf. It’s something to remember us all by.” He placed the satchel over my head and under one arm. “Now you’re ready.” He grinned.
 

I put my old boots in the bag and felt my hair to make sure that the comb was still secure in the top of my braid. Chester grabbed my hand, and we left the men behind. Even though I knew they wanted me out, I felt like they only wanted well for me. They waved their tiny, hairy hands at us as we made our way to the top of the stairs. When the men opened the rock door, the cold crippled me.

“Mezz, it’s cold! We might be in for a blizzard,” one said.

“The coldest nights are often the safest in the kingdom,” Chester mumbled. “Let’s just hurry.”

We traveled quickly through the cold. I kept my face buried in my coat most of the way. Chester held my hand firmly, as if I were something precious he didn’t want to lose. Little did he understand, apparently, that I never wanted to be in these woods alone again, and I wasn’t about to let him out of my sight. Coming across that wolf was one of the most terrifying experiences so far.
 

The two men moved remarkably fast, leading the way most of the time. We never stopped. Everything looked exactly the same to me, but I heard them grunting and mumbling when we came across a landmark (which looked identical to everything else). I trusted we were going the right way, and my only concern was getting out of the cold quickly.
 

After about an hour of fierce walking, we heard the same ferocious growl I’d heard before.
The wolf.
But we couldn’t see anything. The guys decided that we were wasting time, and the best thing to do was to move even faster.
 

We heard some rustling and laughing in the woods. We all kneeled, hid, and watched as one stout man fussed loudly at another. Then one of them pulled out a flute. The other, uncontrollably, started dancing wildly.
 

“Time to go!” Chester said in a loud whisper.
 

“What was that?” I asked as we left the scene.

“Magic. I never hang around to see what happens when magic is involved. Sometimes witnessing it is as dangerous as practicing it.”
 

I pressed for more, but that was all he’d say.

“We’re almost there!” one of the tiny men said and pointed upward. I saw a steady stream of smoke rising.
 

We walked for another fifteen or twenty minutes. By this time, my hands and feet were numb. My nose had lost all control of its innards, and I was realizing that I might have been bitten by the frost.

We stopped. The two men turned to face us.
 

“Well, this is the end of our road,” one said.

“So it is,” agreed Chester.

“Best of luck to you both, and don’t forget if you’re in a bind, giving Crystal a visit might prove useful.” The men shook Chester’s hand and mine, and without another word or glance, they disappeared into the snowy darkness.

“Listen, Rowena. I want you to know that I would have never brought you here unless I felt it was absolutely unavoidable. She owes me a favor, and I intend on calling it up tonight. Just try to ignore her, and whatever you do, do not look at her face too long.”
 

Before I could clarify why I shouldn’t, he pulled me towards the billowing smoke, probably from a chimney, that was visible through the trees. I continued to hear the cracking of limbs and the light growl of something. Neither my nervousness nor the rustling in the woods seemed to affect Chester. His mind was focused.

We approached a cottage with dimly lit windows. It looked inviting and most importantly, warm. I stood behind Chester as we approached its door. I could see the hesitation in his eyes, but he knocked anyway.

“Who’s there?” I heard a girl call out in a rough Scottish accent.

“It’s Chester,” he said just above a whisper.

“What the bloody Mezz are you doing here?” she yelped as she opened the door. Surprised to see me, she took a step backwards. “What do you want?”

That’s when I noticed. Her face had a scar from eye to jaw on the left side. It appeared to be a crudely healed scratch. I tried not to look as Chester had instructed.

“I need your help,” he started.

“Mezz would have picket fences before I’d help the likes of you!”
 

“You owe me. Rowena and I need a place to stay for a few days until I figure out what to do. We’ll be even then.”
 

I could see that she was seriously debating it. Whatever he had done for her must have been huge because it seemed to cause her to forfeit her argument with him.

“Come in.”

We entered the toasty quaint cottage, which reminded me of the British countryside I’d seen on television.
 

“This is lovely,” I proclaimed with happiness at being warm. She gave me a daring look that sent shivers down my spine. Chester placed one finger over his lips. I nodded in agreement.
 

“I know we have a lot of explaining to do, and I’m sure you have a lot of questions. But is there any way we can postpone them until tomorrow? We’re very tired.”
 

She nodded and didn’t say a word.

I tried not to stare at her, but she was really beautiful even with the scar. Her fiery hair reached her waist in waves. She had fair, unfreckled skin and cool blue eyes. She was slender but not too skinny. She stood about Chester’s height, so a little taller than me, and looked to be around our age.
 

“You can sleep in the back room,” she told Chester. “She’ll have to sleep on the sofa.” She never even looked at me. In fact, she tried to avoid me. I started feeling uncomfortable, and I realized that’s why Chester told me he wouldn’t have brought me here unless he had no other choice. She placed a blanket and pillow on the couch and disappeared down the hall, in what I assumed was her bedroom. Chester gave me a quick anxious glance then followed after her.
Something’s up with them. What happened?

I blew out all of the candles in the living room, and nestled into my new bed. I could hear the whipping of the wind outside. It took every bit of energy I had to warm back up. I watched the fire dance in its place. I couldn’t help listening intently trying to decipher what this girl and Chester were saying.
What sort of relationship did they have?
I tried to swallow the bit of jealousy that was welling up.

“I’m sorry, but I couldn’t live like that anymore. Please try to move past it.” I heard Chester say. A door slammed. Silence. Something must have been romantic between them, which explains his being nervous and her hostility towards me. This realization only made me more uncomfortable.

A wolf howl sent me jolting up on the couch. It sounded like it was right outside the window
.
Too afraid to look, I snuggled tighter into my covers and mentally glued my eyes shut.
 

The night passed ferociously as I dreamt about the wolf in the woods and the love triangle I now found myself in.
 

The clang of pots awoke me.

I sat up and gazed into the adjoining kitchen. She stood there with two pots, one in each hand, and a grin on her face. She went to the fireplace and warmed something in a small saucer pan. Chester walked in, caught me rolling my eyes at her, and frowned.
 

“I prepared a bath for you. It should be warm,” he whispered to me. I nodded and found my way to the steaming bathing room. It was so nice to be taking a warm bath again that I probably spent a lot more time in there than I should have. I brushed my hair with her brush, which felt strange and vengeful all at the same time. I left my hair loose, like hers. Each damp curl dangled sloppily down the middle of my back. I still cringed when I looked in the mirror at my naked, freckled face. Mascara could have done wonders. I finally gave up on looking beautiful and walked into the living room.

Chester looked up at me but showed no emotion, which was a letdown for my spirits since I had tried to look pretty today. He got up and retrieved me some tea and sat back down. We both waited silently.
 

“Rose, can I offer you any help?” he called out.

“I don’t need your bloody help,” was her reply. My nose crinkled in frustration, which Chester noticed and frowned again.

I wanted to ask him what her problem was, but I didn’t feel right about it. Besides, what if she heard me? The next time I might wake up to being beaten with a frying pan.

“Breakfast is ready!” she hollered.

We sat down and ate something that reminded me of my Mal-Mal’s whole cake. It was filling but had little taste. But better than I could make, all the same.
 

“That was good. It reminded me of my grandma’s cooking,” I said, trying to make peace between us. She didn’t acknowledge I’d spoke.
 

“This is not going to work!” Chester said and slammed his napkin in his plate and walked out of the room.
 

Her eyes filled with tears.
So this is what it feels like to watch a heart break.
She gathered his plate and hers and piled them on the counter. I could see that she was fighting back the tears, and my heart hurt for her, even though she’d been a raving witch to me. I didn’t say anything. I didn’t know what to say. I finished my breakfast and stacked my plate with the others on the counter while she stood at the edge of the room sniffling.

“What happened?” I asked quietly as I approached Chester in a wingback chair in the living room.

“Come on. Let’s go for a walk.”
 

We walked outside into the bright, crisp morning. The nightmares of the night before seemed distant and almost silly in the daylight. We were a little ways from the house on a barely used pathway.
 

“Tell me what’s going on.”
 

“Rose and I were a couple once. Not too long ago. I met her in the woods. She was fighting off a wolf, and I saved her. After that, we fell in love. Well, I fell in love with companionship, and she for me. It wasn’t long before I realized I didn’t actually love her, only the idea of being with someone else. I left her and built a house — the one you stayed in. I explained in a note that I couldn’t be with her anymore because I didn’t love her like she loved me. I never told her where I moved because I knew she’d come looking for me. I haven’t spoken to her again until now.”

I sat there trying to understand why someone would be with someone else just because they were lonely.
 

“Is that why you rescued me? Because you just wanted companionship?” The thought of this broke my heart. I wanted so badly to start a new life here in Mezzanine and had hoped it would somehow involve Chester.
 

“No! It’s not the same at all, Rowena. You have to believe me,” his voice pleaded. He took my hands into his, brought them to his lips, and kissed them. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you when you left. I have been hesitant to tell you this before because I thought it presumptuous. I’m not usually like this, I swear. I have never met anyone who could occupy my thoughts as completely as you.” His eyes became wild and energized. My heart raced with anxiety and longing. He pulled me closer until our lips finally collided with passion. I wrapped my arms around him until we were as close as nature would allow us. I felt faint and elated so much that I reluctantly had to take a break.
 

We looked at one another, both flushed. His eyes focused back on my lips, and we embraced again.
 

Kissing him was wonderful and different. I’d known every part of Dashielle, every fiber of who he was. I barely knew Chester, and though I felt like this should deter me from feeling so strongly for him, I couldn’t help but be intrigued by who he was. He had saved me and something drew me to him. Our hearts were magnetized.

“We need to head back,” he whispered, trying to catch his breath. I wiped my lips with my fingertips and stared at him. I was crippled by my actions. I wanted those kisses so badly, but now I felt even more like I betrayed Dashielle, whom once held my entire heart. Now my emotions were compartmentalized like my life. It felt strange yet inevitable.
 

“We shouldn’t act overly-friendly in front of Rose. She’s hurting, and the last thing I want to do is cause her more pain. You understand, right?” he questioned. I nodded in agreement.
 

We headed back to the cottage. When we walked in, I heard Rose’s quiet sniffles from the back of the house. I found my way to the couch. Chester gave me a quick glance, went back to her room, and knocked.

“What do you want?” she cried.

“May we go for a walk?”

There was no answer, but I heard movement in her room. She opened the door quietly and followed him to the front of the house. The redness on her face matched the flush in mine, only from different sources. I slightly pressed both my hands on my cheeks, which was my feeble attempt to hide my sin against her. They both walked out of the house in silence.

Quickly my insecurities surfaced jealousy and ill thoughts. How was I to really
know
that they weren’t out there doing the same thing he and I were five minutes ago? Nevertheless, I suppressed it. If Chester wanted to be with her, then he would have been all these years. Instead of dwelling on useless thoughts, I warmed myself in front of the fire then went to the bathing room to primp my now dry ringlets. I pulled the comb out of my pocket, pulled the hair back from my face, and secured it. My pink cheeks still gleamed with passion. I rubbed my lips together, pulling the color out of them. I closed my eyes and replayed our kisses. The memories of Dashielle and I’s first kiss intermingled with my new first kiss, and it crippled my senses. I opened my eyes and faced myself in the mirror.
I am now in Mezzanine.
Even though I kept telling myself that, there was always a sense of someone else dwelling in my body — my old self. Her memories jumbled with mine.