Sky Lands: The Gift Stones

Wind slashed through me in blades of ice. Shadows whirled across my vision until I was sick with dizziness. I was afraid I would be torn apart.

  I collapsed onto solid earth, surrounded by a sudden warmth. Above, the boughs of an oak tree stretched beneath a pale blue sky. Sparks of sunlight peeked through between the leaves.

  I sobbed on my hands and knees, the grass green and the dirt familiar underneath me. All around, the world was twittering to a brand new day.

  Through the blur of my tears, the salmon-colored walls of the music building stood complacently beneath the shade of trees, as if nothing had ever happened. In the distance, I could hear cars and the voices of students. Above it all, the Campanile struck the time.

  The day was clear, and the sun too warm for my fur coat. I ripped it off with an effort that almost drained me. It was wet with blood. I cried, shaking as I took it in my hands. My hands came away, red and stained.

  It had worked. It had all worked.

  Audrey had been brilliant.

  I laughed through the sweat and tears falling down my face. I was home, surrounded by what I thought I would never see again.

  I took off my shirt. It was dyed a thorough red, the back of it ripped from the lion’s claw in Moreina.

  Finally, with a relief, I unbound the bags of fairies’ blood strapped to my torso.

  Audrey’s blades had sliced through them cleanly, her aim worthy of the kyrion repute. When we had planned everything in the Great Hall, I was worried she would miss. She had assured me, but doubt had assailed me nevertheless. However, Audrey’s blades had been precise. A couple of the quilted bags were even still intact. I supposed I could drink fairies’ blood one last time, after all. I picked up a bag and flicked off the cap. I held it, warm in my hand.

  All the knights would attest to my death and Audrey would be free of any charges related to my escape. Tensions between her and Satinah would not escalate. And I – I was free. I was home.

  I sat at the base of the oak, the sun falling fresh and clean around the shade. Soon, I would see my friends again. Soon, I would go with them to San Francisco for movies and dinners. I would play volleyball on the beach over summer. And the winter after that, I would enjoy dinner-before-dinners, family upon families, and the usual procession of Christmas films. Life would hum along at Berkeley, just as it always had, as if I had never left it for a moment. Shops would open, students would crowd the streets, classes would start, and tests would be taken. Soon, I would join that rhythm again, a different person in the same routine. And for the first time, I marveled at my world for what it was.

  I leaned back against the tree, tilted the fairies’ blood to my mouth, and drank the sweet wine. Yet, it was good to savor the memory of magic.

  Epilogue