Kit couldn't see through her tears as Caim disappeared through the shadowy gate. She had followed him back to Othir, hoping she was mistaken, but it was plain to her now that the mud-woman still had a hold on him.
Invisible, Kit floated up through the ceiling. It wasn't fair! She had known Caim for most of his life, long before he met the mud-woman. They shared countless memories. She'd tried to show Caim how much she loved him, how special he was to her, but it was clear she couldn't compete with the flesh. Without the ability to touch and hold him, their love was doomed.
The lights of the city glittered below her feet as she emerged from the palace roof. Kit could only think of one place to go. Swallowing her tears, she focused on a place far away, a place between this world and the Other Side. A quiet place. The world tilted around her to the sound of distant chimes.
The lapping of gentle waves greeted her arrival. Kit blinked against the crystalline sunlight washing over the pearl-white sand beneath her toes. Sapphire waters stretched to the hazy horizon. A little house stood farther up the beach on a sward of grass, shaded by a mesicante tree. An old woman wearing a large wicker hat worked in the garden behind the house.
With a hoot of joy, Kit wiped her cheeks dry and ran to the house. When the old woman straightened up from her plants, Kit waved and yelled, “Ealdmoder!”
Kit laughed. The warm sand felt good under her feet. She ran up the path of smooth stepping stones around the side of the little house and stopped before the arbor. The old woman squinted at her, and Kit held her breath until the old woman rushed forward and gathered her in her arms. She was taller, even taller than Caim, but slim as a cypress tree.
“Kitrine, child. I've missed you!” Kit's grandmother held her out at arm's length. “You're even more beautiful than I remember.”
Kit laughed and kissed her grandmother on the cheek. “Not as beautiful as you, Ealdmoder.”
“Come, dear. Let's sit.”
They went around to the back of the house. Nothing had changed. The garden was as immaculate as she remembered, with beds of flowers in every hue-roses, lavenders, chrysanthemums, orchids, lilies, irises, and more. The temperature was neither too hot nor too cold, but exactly right. The breeze was soothing and fragrant with the scent of growing things. It was a perfect day. Too perfect to be real. And it wasn't. Among Kit's people it was common, when they had lived long enough, to retreat to a personal world of their own making, designed in their own ideal of perfection. This was her grandmother's refuge.
Her grandmother pulled her down onto a wooden bench. “You've been away so long, I was beginning to think I would never see my favorite grandchild again. But I can see you've been crying.”
Kit rubbed her eyes with the back of a hand. “I'm sorry. I didn't know where else to go. I was upset and needed someone I could talk to. I thought…”
Her grandmother squeezed her hand. “You are always welcome here, Kitrine. Tell me what is troubling you.”
“It's-” Kit felt guilty all of a sudden. She hadn't bothered to visit since she went to the Brightlands, not once, and now she regretted not being a better granddaughter.
“It's a man,” her grandmother said.
Kit swallowed a sob. “How did you know?”
“Only a man can cause tears like that, child. Which family does he come from? Don't tell me he's lowborn. Your father would never-”
“He's a mortal,” Kit blurted in a rush, and then held her breath, watching her grandmother for a reaction.
The old woman stared at her for several slow heartbeats as the color drained from her face. “Kitrine, tell me you're joking. Child! You haven't changed at all. Oh, I don't know why you ever went to that dirty, drab world. It could only bring you sadness.”
The old woman sat back against the back of the bench, shaking her head. Kit exhaled softly. This was a mistake. I shouldn't have come.
“I'm sorry, Ealdmoder. I'll leave now.”
Her grandmother held onto her wrist. “No, stay. You have already disturbed my kwa. There's nothing to be done for it. But you can tell me about this…man.”
“His name is Caim, and I love him. I think I've loved him since the first time I saw him. But I can't have him because…”
“Because he is human and you are Fae.”
“Yes. I've tried to be…with him, but it's impossible.”
“Oh, my darling Kitrine. You are so young. You have millennia to find your true mate. You'll soon forget this fleeting obsession.”
Kit sobbed. “I love him! He's been my best friend, my only real friend, for so long, I would do anything for him.” She took a deep breath. “Ealdmoder, I want to become human.”
Her grandmother sighed. It was the most awful sound Kit could imagine at that moment, laden with disappointment. “Child, child. You don't know what you are saying.”
Kit couldn't stop the tears from falling. “I do! I understand what it means, but I can't live without him.”
“Come with me.”
Kit stood up, struggling to control her emotions. She followed her grandmother into the garden, to a bright yellow bush with clusters of tiny pink berries. The old woman plucked a berry and held it up to her mouth for a moment. Then she offered it to Kit. “Eat this.”
Kit looked at the fruit. “Why?”
“You wish to have a future with this human man?”
“Yes.”
“Then taste that life before you choose.”
Kit accepted the berry, which was firm with a velvety skin. Looking to her grandmother, she placed it in her mouth and bit down. The cool juice splashed on her tongue, and then her mind exploded as she was deluged by waves of colors and sounds more complex and beautiful than anything she'd ever known before. They surrounded her and lifted her up to the gleaming sky.
Kit blinked. She stood in a dim hallway. Faint rays of light filtered through the lattice of a high window, casting silver diamonds on the hardwood floor. She looked down to see that she was clothed in a long dress. It was stylish and sleek, though with a higher neckline than she usually wore, but it was somber black with no adornment. She started to concentrate to change the color and shorten the skirt, but then realized she was wearing shoes-stiff, leather things-and she could feel the floor. She was solid again!
Excited and anxious and afraid all at the same time, Kit looked around. Where was she? The hallway gave few clues. There was a door a few steps away, but before she could approach it, a young woman in a simple black smock came around a corner with a steaming cup on a fine porcelain saucer.
“Your tea, madam,” the young woman said as she held out the cup.
Kit started to reach for it-she'd never had human tea before-but something didn't feel right. Her stomach hurt fiercely as if it had been beaten with a stick, and a sour taste rose in the back of her throat. “No,” she said. “Where am-?”
The door opened, and a man in a long black coat exited. He carried a leather satchel and a straight walking cane. “He's resting now. I gave him a tonic of figwort and comfrey root for the pain, but it's only a matter of time. In fact, it's a miracle he's lasted this long. I'll send my man around tomorrow to settle accounts.”
Kit didn't understand anything the man said, but the girl in the smock said, “This way, Doctor.”
Kit watched them go. Then she leaned toward the door, which stood ajar. Inside was a lofty room. The decor was rather opulent, like some of the rooms she used to spy out back in Othir's mansions when Caim was working. Coffered ceiling, wooden chests against the walls, a tall wardrobe and dresser, and a cheval mirror set in a bright brass frame. And, of course, the bed, which was huge, big enough to sleep three or four people, but there was only one person in it now.
Kit went inside for a better look. Still unsure where she was, or how she had gotten here, she moved around to the side of the bed. The occupant was an old man. His silver hair was full, but cropped close to the scalp. His face was creased with deep lines like old leather. Kit leaned closer, and the breath caught in her throat as she recognized a resemblance through the drooping, wrinkled flesh. She swallowed, afraid to speak.
He opened his eyes. “Kit?”
Through the hoarseness and the straining, she could hear his old voice, the voice she'd loved for so long. “I'm here, Caim. How did this-?”
Kit stopped talking as she reached for him and saw her own hands. Instead of smooth and elegant, they were withered, the skin along the backs sunken to where she could see the bones. A large brown spot covered the knob of her left wrist. She pulled the hands-her hands-back and tried to hide them in the laced sleeves of her dress. “Caim, what's happened? You're so old, and I'm…”
She turned to the glass, the movement slow and stiff. The face that looked back at her was ancient. Her violet eyes were hidden within deep pockets of wrinkles. “I'm horrid!”
“No.” He coughed. “No, my love. You're as beautiful as the first time I saw you.”
Kit sat on the bed and touched his arm. The firm muscles she'd once fantasized about, wanting to hold her, were shrunken to thin cables. “How did we get so old, Caim? I'm a mud-woman now, but I don't remember how I got this way.”
He shook his head. “I'm sorry. I know I promised to never leave you, but I don't know…”
His eyes closed as his voice drifted off.
“Mistress?” The girl had returned. She stood at the door. “Can I get you anything?”
Kit shook her head and looked back to Caim, resolved to wake him for some answers, but he exhaled a long, quiet breath before she could shake him. His chest seemed to shrink in upon itself, falling lower and lower. She waited for it to rise again. One heartbeat extended into a second, but his chest did not move. Kit clamped her teeth shut to hold back the wail that clawed up her throat. The room grew dimmer as the walls closed in around her.
The sun was in the same place in the sky when Kit returned to her grandmother's retreat. The flowers of the garden swayed to the breeze, surrounding her in a thousand heady scents that all smelled of ashes. She looked for her grandmother and heard the door to the cottage close. Tears welled up in her eyes, but they did not spill.
Kit walked back down the stony path to the water's edge. Standing in the sand, she thought about what she'd seen. Was it the future, or just a nightmare? A gust of wind blew through her hair. Small waves capped in white foam scudded across the water's surface as Kit pondered her destiny and the man she loved.