Cracks in the Story

Life moved at a relaxed pace in the Heartsprings. The lack of true, distinct seasons and the insular nature of the space meant that change came slowly, if it came at all. The denizens were keen to return to the safety of that status quo.

Mother gathered everyone in the clover meadow. With roots extended, she assured all of them that the sacred springs would be renewed. All was well. All would always be well. There is no need to be fearful or to worry over the fate of the Heartsprings. And an event like this would never happen again.

Still, Eyna couldn't help but feel that it was somewhat underwhelming. 

Nothing like this had ever occurred in all the years that she had lived in the Heartsprings. But no one wanted to talk about it. Even when she lingered and pestered them. All was well. They echoed Mother's assertions. In soft and silken tones, they repeated the words over and over again. With different justifications and different explanations. But in the end it was the same sentiment.

Their reluctance was frustrating. They acted as if the whole world had not been turned on it’s head. But rather that some sort of temporary monsoon had rolled through, and now was gone. Frightening to experience in the moment, but nothing to consider in the aftermath.

Father was just as evasive. She cornered him over breakfast with inquiries about his well-being. She peppered him from head to toe, trying to make sure he was okay. He insisted that he was, but wouldn't answer her properly.

“What happened to the person you were fighting?” In her mind's eye, she saw the vivid image of the suit of armor.

Father mumbled into his cup of water. He held it stiffly in one hand, the lines of a deep wound running the length of his bicep. Dozens of other such marks marred his skin. Many of which seemed to Eyna not to have healed well, despite Mother's help. No matter how much Father insisted that they were.

“Mm. He was defeated most spectacularly.” Father offered her a grin. “Isn’t your Father strong?”

Eyna tapped her fingertips against the wooden table. “Yes, but what happened to him?”

“As I said, he was defeated. Spectacularly.”

She tilted her head. “So he's dead. Where's the body then?”

Father choked on his water. He brought a fist to his chest as he sputtered. “Ahem. Now Eyna… It's really not right to be asking about bodies.”

It was rare, but members of the Heartsprings did die on occasion. Their passing was treated to a host of funeral rites. The most important of which was having them returned to the roots of Mother. But Eyna did not imagine that the invader would have the same treatment.

The mage of flame had, after all, been dealt with differently. Mother had carefully extracted even the most finite of ashes. A special ward had been set up in the place where the figure had curled. An outline, in the shape of the being that had passed from this world, slowly burning away the essence of the mage.

“So he isn't dead.”

Father reached out and ruffled her hair. “We're all safe now. You don't need to worry.”

Eyna hadn't, in truth, expected Father to give her a proper answer. He was always dismissive when it came to serious matters. But it was a confirmation of her suspicions. 

Father was hiding something. Something big. And she was determined to find the answers that others would not give her.

Sthuna was her next target. Ironically, although Sthuna was not a fae and he could therefore lie… She trusted him to give her a straight answer where her own family refused.

She planned to corner him after breakfast. 

At present, Sthuna was prodding at the different foods on the table. He tested them with his jaws. And, lacking in table manners, he did so not unlike an unruly house cat. He batted at some dishes that he thought he might enjoy. But left them when he discovered that he did not.

Eyna thought it was funny.

Father clearly did not. He watched with an undisguised disgust as the dragon's tongue flicked over a peach that he had just been reaching for. The long, sinuous organ wrapped around it. Sthuna tilted his head. His tongue twisted, leaving dragon saliva on the peach. And then Sthuna left it, abandoning the now glistening fruit.

To Eyna’s surprise, Father didn't intervene. He just stared long and hard, a grimace etched into his face. He reached out, not so subtly flicking the contaminated peach so that it rolled to the furthest side of the table.

It seemed that somewhere between the wildfire and the end results - that Sthuna had fought hard enough to lose his wings - his attitude towards the dragon had changed. Sthuna also seemed more amicable towards Father. It certainly wasn't love. Nor affection. But it was something softer around the edges.

Eyna kicked her feet slowly under the table. “Where’s Saffron and Pepper?”

Surely this at least Father could answer.

Father slid all the other peaches and fruits away from Sthuna before he could lick them all. “Saffron’s in the lake. She’s refused to come out.”

That did sound like Saffron. She was petrified of going in the water. But once at the very bottom of the lake, she was obsessed with the garden down there.

A single blackberry rolled from the berry bowl as Father pulled it away from Sthuna. Sthuna caught the blackberry before Father could stop him.

Father shot daggers as the dragon gnawed on his captive berry. The daggers grew more deadly as Sthuna spat out the berry.

"Oy-"

Sthuna turned his attention to a dish of blueberry jam next. Not because he liked it. Indeed, Eyna had noticed that he didn’t have a sweet tooth whatsoever. But Father did. Sthuna got his tongue all over the blueberry jam before Father could eat it.

Eyna persisted. “And Pepper? Where's Pepper?”

Father's response was distracted as he tried to shelter all the other jams. “Pepper’s with you, hummingbird.”

Eyna paused.

Father’s glare morphed into an amused smile. “You didn’t notice? I thought you two might be playing some sort of game with you carrying him around like that. There. In your pocket, mm?”

She frowned, not certain what Father was talking about. But she checked all the same. She pulled back the pocket of her dress.

The tiny silkfluff was still nestled there. Remarkable, considering her clumsy flight, the fire, the chaos in the aftermath. The creature was fast asleep, antennae twitching in errant dreams of moonlight and fireflies.

"This is a silkfluff, Father. Not Pepper." She tilted her pocket so that Father could see. Carefully, so as not to disturb her passenger.

Father glanced over.

Something flickered in his eyes, for just a moment. His fingers curled tightly around his cup. "So he is!"

Eyna eyed him, tucking her pocket back into place. "So where's Pepper?"

"He's around here, hummingbird."

The dismissive answer didn't sit well with her. She pressed the issue. "Pepper is safe? He's okay?"

"Yes." Father inclined his head. "Pepper is very safe. You needn't worry, Eyna. He'll be right with you."

...

Strange.

There was comfort in Father's assertion. Truth. Pure truth. But something wasn't quite right. She couldn't put a finger on it, but her instincts were wary.

Father interrupted her flow of thoughts. “I think it's safe to say that breakfast is over.”

Sthuna flicked his tongue in the air.

Father stood, folding his arms. “Yes, it is most definitely over. You’ve had your fill. Both of you. But you especially.”

With a meaningful look sent the dragon’s way, he banished them from the dining hall. He told them to occupy themselves in the fields, or back by the lake. He and Mother had things to discuss. And in a typical fashion, neither Sthuna nor Eyna were invited.

Eyna guided Sthuna to her favorite secluded spot. A tiny grove nestled behind a waterfall. The location was occasionally host to pixies. They liked to stash their secret stolen items there. But the pixies would be gathered by the lakeside until late noon. She didn't anticipate any interruptions.

Sthuna sauntered a little more slowly after the full meal they'd had. He stuck his snout in a bundle of moss, riffling through it.

“Careful. The pixies will be very mad if you break anything of theirs.”

Sthuna snorted. “Pixies. I can handle them.”

He snuffled, pushing around a pearl he found in one nest of moss. It rolled from the safe hiding place, and he watched it curiously.

Eyna settled herself into place. She cracked her knuckles. “Time to begin the interrogation.”

Sthuna eyed her suspiciously, blood red eyes narrowing. His long tail curled at his side, thumping against the stones below. “Ah?”

“Yes, Sthuna. It’s time to discuss. Who is the Executioner?”