The Hidden Crystal

Chapter 62

Iris curled up in bed, exhausted. Elera had fussed and fretted over her all day, and while Iris appreciated that, she half wished Char hadn't told his mother. Now, Elera was helping coordinate wedding plans to take the pressure off of Iris, and she kept asking how Iris was doing, if she needed to take a break, worrying over her and making her worry. They needed to go dress shopping tomorrow, if she felt up to it. Char had to pick out rings and find a place for them to live. The priest would want to meet them before he performed the ceremony.

Iris knew Elera meant well, but it was all too overwhelming.

She was alone now, back in Char's bedroom at Elera's house. He was at the barracks, and the fairies were there, too, to keep their kleptomania in check. As she lay there, not sleeping, she wished somebody were here with her. She needed someone. She needed security. But she didn't want to worry Elera more.

The crystal pulsed in time with her heartbeat. One. Two Three.

She touched the fingers of her right hand to her chest. Was it the same as reaching out to the whispers with the amulet?

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. "Mom?"

Bright blue eyes swam into view. She was laughing again, pressing her dimple deep into her left cheek with her smile.

Look, Iris. It's snow. Isn't it pretty?

Iris reached out with a tiny hand, trying to catch the snowflakes. Her mother laughed at her clumsy attempts. It was a bubbly sound, like water rushing over stones in a little stream.

Your first snow, Iris. Everything is new when I see it through your eyes.

The cold bit at Iris' nose and cheeks, but the rest of her was cozy in her mother's arms. She laughed too, a burbling, giggling baby laugh. She patted her mother's rosy cheek. That was all Iris could see: her mother and the snow surrounding them.

Her mother's smile faltered.

Now, let's pray really hard for a warm place to sleep tonight.

Iris yawned and pillowed her cheek on her mother's shoulder. A gentle hand pulled her blanket up over her head and patted her on the back.

Sleepy baby. You take a nap, and don't worry about a thing. God always provides.

The vision faded.

Iris opened her eyes and took a deep breath.

Her heart ached. She wished she could have known her mother—really known her. These glimpses into the past made their time together seem so sweet, but it must have been hard for her. A teenage girl on the run, caring for a newborn she didn't ask for but she loved with all of her heart.

Did she have no family? Nobody who would help her? Or had they rejected her when she came home, broken and afraid, forcing her onto the streets to fend for herself?

Iris didn't know. She wasn't sure she wanted to know.

God always provides.

She couldn't remember when she had last prayed. Was it when she fled that first battle at Little Rest? Or after that? She wasn't sure. The worse her situation had become, the harder praying had become. She hadn't been angry with God. She just hadn't thought about it. Prayer seemed to vanish from her life.

But it had felt like a breath of fresh air to hear Father Peter blessing the meal at the church, and if her mother could still pray after everything she'd been through...

Iris wished she were here. She wished she could talk to her mother, ask her... anything and everything. She had so many questions.

Her mother wasn't here, but Char's mother was.