Mayra’s grandchildren and great-grandchildren laughed and played in the yard between the three houses. The youngest of Mayara’s daughters called out injunctions to her children, before she ducked her head into the hut to bully her mother.
“Mommy!” The young woman clucked her tongue at Mayara. “Don’t get out of bed. You need your rest if you’re going to recover from this hex.”
“This kind of hex, none can heal.” Mayara coughed. Droplets of blood came up with the phlegm. She washed her hand from the jug of water near the bed, careful not to show her daughter.
“Don’t say that,” her daughter chided. She checked the jar, saw it was almost empty, and dirty besides, and took it outside to refill it in the stream.
Mayara and Joslo, already weak from old age, had both caught a bad fever. They shared the same cot, soft with their old, beloved wolf fur blanket.
“It will be hardest on her,” Mayara said. “She’s the youngest. She’s not ready for us to leave, especially not so close together.”
“No one is ever ready,” he said. “But if I have to make the journey, I’m glad to make it with you. I’ve forgotten so many times to tell you, so let me tell you. I love you. You were like a swan in my life, bringing me beauty and joy.”
For a moment, she didn’t answer. Their dual breathing sounded strained, more like snores than breaths.
“The biggest regret of my life is I let my mother die without ever trusting her with the truth about me,” Mayara said. “She loved me, and I loved her, and yet never did I tell her my secret. I wish I had had the courage to tell her the truth before she died. I don’t want to make the same mistake with you.”
Joslo smiled. He had two teeth, both blackened. “You don’t have to tell me.”
“I want to…”
“Because I already know,” he finished. “I’ve known since before we wed. You are an Aelfae.”
She stared at him in astonishment. “How did you find out?”
“Your mother told me, the day she died,” he said. “And she told me she had always known, since the day she found you. She said you were a gift, like a wild bird, and that I must protect you, hide you and keep you safe and loved forever. And I have tried.”
Mayara felt her eyes warm with a flood of unshed tears. She slipped her hand into his. “There’s a place I want to show you. We’ll have to escape our children. They’ll never let us go.”
Co-conspirators, they helped one another creak out from the bed and wobble across the courtyard when no one was looking. Mayara led him up the hill, to the cave, and the boulders. A tree, which she had planted long ago, now marked the spot where her wings remained buried.
The trek uphill had exhausted both of them. They panted and looked at one another with big grins and shining eyes.
“I thought I didn’t remember the dance, but I do,” Mayara said.
She took his hands and they both danced, though he said, “But I don’t know it,” and she said, “Just follow me. I can dance for us both.”
Wings sprouted from her back, beautiful, as wide as the sky.
She reached her arms around him and soared.
The climb, the dance, the flight, all combined to exhaust their last reserves, and when they reached the summit, Joslo failed first. He lost his grip and began to plummet to the ground. Mayara used her last strength to grasp him tight, and spin him in her arms as they both fell through the air. Before they hit the ground, they had already joined the greater circle.
Here ends The Unfinished Song: Root (Book 4). Email me or sign up for my newsletter to receive a special offer on The Unfinished Song: Wing (Book 5).
Keep reading for an excerpt from To Play the Lady, by Naomi Jane.