Destiny: A Story of the Fey Read Free Page A

room.
    Esmerelda sat on the edge of the bed, fingering a rip in her dress. She had a forlorn expression on her small face. Her brown hair hung limply around her cheeks, and a streak of dirt covered the pantaloons beneath the skirt.
    Solanda had never seen Esmerelda look dirty before, nor had she seen the girl’s hair loose at any time except bedtime.
    “Oh, Goldie!” Esmerelda raised her voice in relief. She was speaking Nye, which was a language that Solanda hadn’t known well when she moved into this house. Here her Nye had improved greatly, but she wanted to be fluent in it by the time she left.
    The little girl launched herself off the bed and grabbed Solanda before Solanda could jump out of the way. Esmerelda wrapped her arms around Solanda and held tightly. Esmerelda had never done that before. If she had been a grabby little girl, Solanda would have been gone a long time ago.
    So this meant, quite simply, that something was wrong.
    Solanda let herself be held for a moment, then she turned her head toward the door and flattened her ears. Esmerelda, smart child that she was, understood both signals. She pushed the door closed, and then let Solanda go.
    Solanda jumped on the windowsill. Esmerelda followed her, but didn’t open the window like she usually did.
    The room was hot and sticky. Solanda wouldn’t be able to stay here too long if that window wasn’t opened.
    “I don’t dare,” Esmerelda said softly. “Mommy’s really mad at me. She didn’t even let me have dinner.”
    Now Solanda was interested, but she didn’t want the story, not yet. She bumped her head against the window’s bubbled glass.
    Esmerelda bit her lower lip and shook her head.
    Solanda placed a paw on the glass and meowed softly.
    “Okay,” Esmerelda whispered. “But if anyone comes, I’ll have to close it.”
    Solanda almost nodded, then caught herself. When Esmerelda came close, Solanda bumped her affectionately with her head, and then watched as the little girl pulled the window open.
    A cool breeze made its way inside. That was the other nice thing about this house. Esmerelda’s room opened onto a large undeveloped area, so the smells of the outdoors came in strong. Breezes were unencumbered. Esmerelda’s mother hated this, and often wished for close neighbors, but Solanda saw it for the blessing it was.
    Esmerelda knelt down beside the window and put her elbows on the sill. She didn’t touch Solanda, but she was still a bit too close. Her body heat was ruining the breeze.
    “I been so bad,” she said, “I won’t get to go outside ever again.”
    Solanda watched her. The little girl had never been able to resist a cat’s gaze. Solanda had never seen a child who was so very lonely. Esmerelda wasn’t allowed to play — except with dolls whose clothing was frilly as the stuff she was trussed in — nor was she allowed to associate with the neighboring children who were, in her parents’ mind, beneath her. She had lessons in poetry and music, art and dancing, but she liked none of it. What she really wanted to do was run as far as she could, and climb trees and learn how to swim.
    She’d probably never get to achieve those goals.
    “I was running this afternoon,” Esmerelda said. Her face was wistful. She leaned her forehead against the glass. “Mommy was looking at fruit and I thought I could just go around the block, but she saw me. I guess she followed me.”
    Esmerelda had done this before, and it hadn’t gotten her sent to bed with no supper. Solanda suspected the problem had something to do with the rip in the dress. Clothing was sacred, at least to this family. Solanda wanted to tear every piece so that this little girl could be free.
    “She saw me fall.” Esmerelda said, fingering her skirt. “She saw me hit a Fey.”
    Solanda stiffened. She almost asked who, and caught herself. Two near lapses in one conversation. She was getting much too relaxed with this child.
    Esmerelda ran a soft hand over