On Fallen Wings by Jamie McHenry Read Free Book Online

days.”
    “The weather is turning,” said Colin. “With trouble in the village and a new season upon us, we must prepare.” He switched legs.
    I tried to look straight at him, but kept glancing down at his feet. Dangling toes wasn’t the impression I expected from the Chief Elder. I wondered if Sean would display the same bold behavior, once we were married, and cringed at the thought.
    Colin continued. “We need a village security review. The Elders asked the Fae for help, in preparation for the Moon Season Celebration.”
    “Oh.” I reflected back to the trouble at Stone Meadow; it already seemed long ago. I didn’t want to dwell on that, so I turned to Madeline. “Are you ready?”
    “Yes, dear.” Madeline leaned across the room to kiss her husband.
    I left them and walked down the hall toward the front door. Madeline followed, pulling Colin in hand behind her. I allowed them to open the door for me, and wished Colin good day, before daring myself to venture back into the cold.
    Madeline pulled her shawl tight around her shoulders and reached around me. Then side-by-side, we left her yard and hurried down the road. As we walked, huddled together to block the wind, we joined more faeries, all properly dressed for the gathering. Most of them nodded silent greetings. A few offered me brief wishes of good fortune. It was too cold to mingle much, and we were all in a rush.
    Our group grew to two dozen beautiful women, all bundled close and tight while scurrying toward the western edge of Aisling. Overhead, gray clouds swirled and twisted as they challenged the biting wind, and all around, colorful leaves spiraled past and painted the landscape. When we arrived at the grove of white aspens surrounding the faerie temple, the wind ceased. Grown naturally tight together, these trees provided excellent shelter from the tiny gales of nature. They also only allowed us single file passage. We covered our heads with golden reverence and entered the dark thicket, quietly following one another until deep in the forest center.
    Always twenty-seven in number, the Fae alone held privileged access to this sacred shrine; the Aspen Grove had held its secret forever. Access to the grove was forbidden, except by invitation from the Faerie Queen. I had only been there twice. The first time was seven years ago, when I was chosen to enter the Sisterhood. The second was the previous Moon Season, when we welcomed my friend Abigail Bree into the order, after the passing of Ophelie Tanner, her Giver.
    No one spoke, and we walked swift and steadfast between the trees, taking silent steps and angled turns too numerous to count. When we reached the temple’s entrance, I stared at the nine trees that formed its walls. Their wide trunks reached high into the heavens—much higher than the surrounding aspens. Thin leaves, suspended high above by the trees’ short branches, remained forever green, and tiny angel vines sprouted from the soil and wrapped around each trunk until reaching the leaves, where they blossomed into tiny white flowers. In the center clearing between the trees, nestled in clover, stood a short stone altar that angled toward the ground. Hidden beneath, lay the sacred record of Aisling, the Fae Scrolls.
    Like a whispering breeze that touched nothing, save our consciousness, the moment opened before me. I knelt as an overwhelming feeling of peace surrounded me. The other faeries must have felt the same; they also fell in reverence. Some of the women wept.
    This was the temple.  
    When the moment passed, I stood and approached the center of the meadow, choosing a position among the women around the altar. I glanced shyly at their faces; they were all pale from the cold and curious, as I was, of the occasion. Everyone was present—all twenty-seven. We were women connected by the sacred order of healing and love.
    Raisa Bannon, the Faerie Queen, spoke first. “Ladies of the Fae,” she said, “a dark cloud is passing over