Glass Maker: A Fairy Tale

Chapter Seven

Katherine never thought she'd crave the safety of a cemetery. Samuel and Katherine's feet had graced the mossy floor of the mountain range's Cicadia Forest mere moments before. After the initial stumble, both staggered in opposite directions. Katherine refused to take her eyes off the fae man, wishing she had her accidental fairy ring from the day prior. Had it been just yesterday that she'd knelt under her sister's willow tree, wishing for more? The festival day passed in ages, and Katherine's bones mirrored the weariness of someone who'd spent their life waiting for a change. The gloom of the forest grew in her mind's eye, melding with the bitter taste on the back of her tongue and the clench of her heart.

Nighttime sounds of sleeping prey and prowling nocturne creatures crept through the trees. No bird song flitted in the branches, and, in the distance, a solitary howl found company in a chorus of others. Katherine shivered at the sound and the chill in the air, wishing she'd grabbed a cloak instead of dashing from the too-warm glass shop with nothing but her work dress. The dress itself was coated now in gold and dirt in equal measure, showing the signs of all of the night's adventures, even sporting a tear that ran past her kneecap. If she had any decency yet, she'd blush at the slit it created, but that was long gone.

In the long shadows cast by the tree canopy, neither Katherine nor Samuel had yet to move. They stood across from each other, Samuel having taken up residence on a fallen log, lowering himself with a huff, while Katherine stayed rooted to the spot. He didn't meet Katherine's questioning eyes and seemed more focused on the bracelets on his tanned wrists than conversation. Katherine furrowed her brow, her lips pursing. There was so much to be said, but she had none of the energy for most of it. She hardly had enough to keep herself warm, and she was doing a poor job of that, even as she brushed her hands up and down her arms.

"What next?"

Katherine's brows bumped her hairline, her exhaustion muddling her thoughts and loosening her tongue.

"Don't you live here?"

Samuel let out a choke of a laugh, the sound ragged, scraping from through his throat forcefully. He brought his head up at last to meet the gaze that Katherine attempted to pin him with.

"No, I don't live here. The wolves wouldn't like me very much for a neighbor." He began to pick at his nails, ringleted and silky hair obscuring his face from her again. "But this is as far as I can take us through flying. The rest we have to go on foot."

"We have to walk to the fae kingdom?" Katherine grit out, her tired mind trying and failing to work out the puzzle that Samuel presented. "Forgive me if I'm wrong, but isn't the fae kingdom floating?"

Samuel moved his head back and forth, tilting it side to side, as if weighing his next words. "It's not that simple."

"Then explain."

Katherine could feel the weariness coming off of him in waves, or maybe it was just that he slumped further down on the log, sprawling over it like a courtly lady in faint. She almost felt bad for demanding it. Almost.

"It does float, in a sense, but the fae kingdom is governed by different rules than Cairn and even Ecrivenia or Marenta. Have you ever seen a map of the world?"

Katherine nodded uncertainly, picturing in her head the map that hung above the bookseller's desk down three streets from her family's shop. Worn and tattered, but showing the entirety of the known world, from the mountains of Cairn to the lake-filled valleys of Marenta, and the coastal region of Ecrivenia, as well as the many island nations.

"When a normal country has a border, it's a line on a map but it doesn't show up in reality. There are places in the woods where you won't know when you pass from one country to the other. This is not the way in Elden, nor the other fae kingdoms. To travel between fae kingdoms is as if you were to fold that map in half, and then into quarters, and so on. With each fold, a new part of the fae kingdom is represented, reaching from the one "above" Cairn to the ones that humans haven't even recorded, except maybe Captain Clarke. But the boundaries aren't so easy to navigate. They exist, but they're more like seams between worlds, like the stitching that connects your bodice to your skirt."