It was the perfect morning to waste the day away in bed.

But Cassie had already begun her weekend chores and Chris was up and about as well. While her back was turned, a broom in hand, Chris seized the opportunity to sneak up on her. He poked her lightly in the sides, she spun around, and then dipped into his embrace. With the broom set aside, they swayed in a circle as if they were dancing on their wedding day.

He wished he could spend his day off with her—he didn't get them very often—but duty was calling and needed an answer, a different sort than usual, and he was forced to say, "I have to get going."

The joy drained from her expression. "Already?"

He nodded, halfheartedly. "I don't know if I'll be back for supper. Assume I won't be."

She looked lost in thought for a moment and then her smile returned. "Are you sure you don't want company?" She draped her arms around his neck and bounced on her toes, bringing her luster closer to eye level.

"I would love some, but it's a long walk and it's supposed to be a hot one today. And in your condition. . ."

Cassie's dreams should have done well enough to convince them. Dr. Acma confirmed it for them as well. She was pregnant, probably around six weeks along, further than they initially estimated. They hadn't wasted any time, or they were making up for lost time. Either way, it didn't matter. They should have been married ages ago. Then stars were aligned, and he was going to be a father again. He was thrilled. Cassie was too. It was only the fear of loss that kept her up at night. Still, when the sun rose, her tears dried and she carried on with a smile, even through the exhaustion and inconstance of her wellbeing.

She sunk back to her heels in reluctant acceptance of their day apart. "Then will you be careful? So I have less of a need to worry?"

"Sure thing. And I hope you'll take it easy. Rest, eat well, stay hydrated. You know the drill."

They parted after that, or, rather, after that and then some.

Chris shouldered his daypack and gave her one last gaze from the front doorway. Even though it was too early for it to show, pregnancy suited her. She had this happy glow. It gave him some assurance that everything would be all right.

With a bright future in mind, Chris turned on the path to Ilima. He chatted with some of the fairies he came across, but he never said a word about what he was doing. Ring shopping. The wedding—its date, location, and errands he had to complete beforehand—had to be kept a secret, even from those who were like family to him. He didn't want anything to slip from a well-meaning mouth in the wrong place at the wrong time.

From Ilima, he entered the magical wormhole that reduced the distance and ensured his safety to the Nohea Marketplace. Once he stepped into the open again, no longer in the safe zone or wormhole, he pulled on the hood of his vest and found a walking stick. He hunched down and hobbled along his head lowered, eyes to the ground.

With his Nordic warrior looks and a befitting reputation, Chris had become recognizable in Hawaii. Nohea was the very place the Kanaloan Army had once captured him. It was the hub of fairy commerce on the island, however, and therefore, impossible to avoid. To evade notice, he had to come up with a disguise, a different one every time.

Upon arrival, he fake-limped through the long line of tents and booths for an overview. As far as he could tell, pickings were slim for jewelry. Jewel Trader appeared in only one place, etched into a drab wooden sign, precariously displayed on a Y-shaped twig in the ground.

The red paisley tent behind it, faded and worn, swelled in the light breeze. At the low triangular opening, he lifted the curtain aside and caught a whiff of smoke and a glimpse of shadows, very basic structures, and not a jewel or person to be seen. So he backed away.

Rising on tiptoe, Chris peered over the heads of most walking patrons and fairy fliers, scanning both left and right.

He had only one option. Jewel Trader it is. . .

Ducking inside the peculiar tent, he pulled off his hood. The space was unlit, the air was oppressively hot and heavy with the scent of burning incense—lavender and musk—enough to inspire wheezing. He found himself alone in there as well. Despite the sign in front, there weren't any jewels on display, either.

Chris approached the one table and squinted in attempt to see through the curtained-off area in the back. The fabric was thin and there was a hint of light shining through. "Hello?"

An elderly fairy emerged from the back at his call. Her neck and wrist accessories jangled like wind chimes and her flowing clothing brought in a whirlwind of additional scents, both botanical and medicinal.

She hobbled over on bare feet despite her wings. He followed her with his eyes until she went behind him. His gaze caught back up with her on his other side. The fem-fairy gypsy released the ropes that held open the entranceway.

He bit his lip as he waited in near darkness. He felt her movement as she buzzed behind him again, this time in flight. It was a loud fluttering motion with an inconsistent lift that reminded him of an injured moth.

His head snapped toward the strike of a match and the sudden light it provided. The flame blazed in her eyes as she lit a fat candle on the table.

The shaky swish of her arm suggested he take a seat on the rickety looking twig chair against the side of the tent. She collapsed upon the only other chair and stared up at him, clearing her throat in a way that was almost authoritative.

Stay or go?

Both his gut and mind couldn't make a decision and that indecision had him pulling over the extra chair.

"Palms up!"

As Chris sat down, he tried to place the fairy's accent. Although her wrinkled skin was a deep tan color, her eyes were wide and blue-green. She was obviously not a Hawaiian native. Her clipped English had a hint of Eastern European in it.

He hesitantly obliged, but said, "I think I'm in the wrong place. Sorry for the mistake."

He would have closed his hands had she not been pouring over them already. "If you are here for jewels, you are in the right place. I like to get to know my customers. A jewel is like a shoe. It must fit."

"All right, then," Chris said with the backs of his hands now flat on the table. He held completely still for her. "What diamonds can you show me? I need an engagement ring and two wedding bands."

She traced the lines on his right palm with her bony finger and clearly had no intention of responding to his inquiry with any urgency.

"Your sign?" her head suddenly shot up to ask.

"Of the zodiac?"

He figured her bugged-out stare meant yes.

"Capricorn."

"Ah yes. And the bride to be?"

"I don't know. What's December 6th?"

She looked offended that he didn't know. "Sagittarius!" she shrieked, and she may as well have added, you fool!

Chris tried not to express his irritation. Historically speaking, he never paid any attention to his horoscope, or to anyone else's for that matter, either.

His eyes wandered around the tent as the strange fairy continued her assessment. At her sharp intake of breath, his attention returned to the table. After a moment of tense scrutiny, she released his hands and sat back in her chair with a knowing smile. "What brings a warrior of Scottish descent to this island paradise?"

Chris bobbed his head in an exaggerated nod. "Wow. You're good."

"You are easily impressed. The diamond mark confirms your bloodline and the calluses . . . speak for themselves."

"Oh, right." His hood was down, and she had been behind him for a moment. She could have seen his mark. "I sometimes forget that's back there."

"My eyes tell me you are here for your bride."

"I am here for her, in a way. But no, she's not from around here." He sighed. "It's a long story. And quite frankly . . . would you mind if we stick to business? Do you have any diamonds or not?"

"That's odd. Isn't your bride the special Hawaiian fairy, the kind that can fly and change form?" She pinched her eyes tightly shut for an awkward while and then suddenly droned, "Ahhhhh, I see I am mistaken." Her eyelids fluttered up as if she was peering into the heavens. "A past love was a native, but she's no longer with us in the usual sense. But her influence is strong over you. She sends her blessing as you prepare for your second wedding."

Chris shuddered, despite the heat and lack of airflow. He stared, open-eyed, open-souled, wanting to believe. It took force and conscious effort to narrow his eyes to slits. "Do I know you?"

"No, not exactly. I saw you coming. That is all."

"What did you say your name was?"

"I didn't. I am known as Sintisa."

"Sintisa, is this some kind of joke? Did someone set you up to this?"

Chris looked his shoulder and grunted in his throat when he realized the tent was closed. Not letting that stop him, he rose from his seat and moved aside the curtain to peek into the marketplace, half expecting to see someone he knew laughing out there.

Then it dawned on him that only Cassie knew where he was. It was a solo journey into disputed territory. She was well aware of the danger that posed and would tell no one.

As if finally accepting the possibility of fortune-telling magic, Chris returned to his seat. Sintisa, unperturbed by his flare-up of doubt, was deep in concentration.

"Ahhhhh," she chanted again. "There are others who have a strong influence over you as well. You fear they are angry. Does it have to do with the girl you choose to marry?"

Her meddling stare hit him hard.

"Um. . ." Chris was speechless, but he wanted to hear more.

"She is not a fairy in constitution. Is that right?"

"What? Now that's the first time I think you're wrong."

Sintisa returned to her internal place, clearly sticking to her original line of thinking. "Her power is strong and exceptionally rare. It runs in her family, both sides—"

"Shhhh," Chris hissed, suddenly aware of the holes in the tent wall. A shadow passed by one to his right. "The fairy world is out to get us. Her own mother wants us both dead," he finished in a whisper.

"All right," Sintisa also lowered her voice. "Her mother is also very powerful."

Chris nodded.

"To surpass her mother's power, your bride would have to be . . . hmmm . . . that would be rare, indeed!"

"What would she have to be? Oh, wait. Let me guess. The key to infinite power? She would obviously be a wingless Constant and bear the mark of a star on her neck," Chris said with a chuckle that flattened quickly as Sintisa's eyes filled with wonder.

"I'm not the only one who should keep my voice down."

"So that makes her. . . ?" he mouthed, barely audible.

Luckily, she could read lips. "A Pixie Elf," she uttered in response. "There is magic . . . and then there's their magic. You follow?"

He nodded. "If that's true, she is completely unaware of it. Her mother is too, I would assume. She would have exploited her daughter's gifts for her own gain long ago had she known."

"These enemies . . . if you want to be rid of them, perhaps your love should be trained in the art of war and magic by her own kind. Pixie Elves live in secret, keep their secrets, die or kill to protect them. But they never reject their own. They'd find her if she seeks them out."

"I hate to sound like the overprotective husband-type, but she's not going to be training or fighting so fast."

"I see you are also protective of your baby."

Chris threw his hands up. He couldn't keep his own secrets and it wasn't even his fault.

"Yes," she continued. "I see a boy with his mother's star in your future."

"Boy? You seem like you know what you're talking about, but my future wife dreamed of a baby girl." Like father, like daughter, mark of the diamond, according to Cassie's nightmare. "And her dreams are eerily plausible sometimes."

"Ah, yes. She has many innate abilities."

Chris shrugged, though he knew it was true.

"Intelligence is beyond human. Beyond fairy as well."

"She knows thirty-seven human languages, and twenty-two fairy dialects," he replied. "All you have to do is hand her a dictionary and she's fluent. She has a photographic memory, I guess. And she can see things and feel things that no one else can. It's subtle—she's the humblest creature I've ever met—but it's amazing all the same. So I would have to agree with you there."

"Her beauty and allure are spellbinding, especially when she is in heat."

"In heat?"

"Four times a solar year. At the solstices and equinoxes."

"Huh. . ." was his reply. That explained a lot. He was always attracted to her and always would be, but he had to admit, she had been particularly tempting beyond reason or recall after Christmas, his first brush with her, when he should have "known better." And around the day she was supposed to marry his brother, the summer solstice, also when he should have "known better." Pain, loss, and likelihood of death didn't faze him as much as it should have. His desire to have her was all-consuming. Everything else was just shadow and noise.

"Pixie Elves use it as weapon to disorient the fools in their way," Sintisa went on. "It is one of many reasons they can be very dangerous. Some would say, watch your back."

Chris wasn't entirely convinced she was right on this point. It was a lot more complicated than a "trap" and a betrayal waiting to happen. And besides, she wasn't doing it on purpose. It wasn't about control. But she was in his head, all the time, even when he wasn't with her. Even when she was on the other side of the globe. They were connected. They shared brain space. If that wasn't "true love," then there was no such thing.

He found the idea amusing, though. "I must be a fool, then. But, even if I was hoodwinked by 'magic,' there is no way in hell I would ever give her up."

"If you are object of her affection, you are correct. You are powerless."

Chris wouldn't change a thing, but he wondered if he was truly too weak to decide for himself. It might alleviate some of the guilt he carried. Maybe I'm not such a despicable brother after all.

And so, the revised story unfolded in his mind. There were once two brothers. They never agreed on much of anything and then a sweet young elf with enchanting beauty and exquisite power joined them at the start of their tumultuous new fantasy lives together. And she just so happened to be "in heat" and had a strong preference for one brother over the other. The message was eventually received. Joe was jealous and territorial. It brought out the monster in Crux. And even her brother was duped to his demise.

He sighed. It was a lot to digest. But overall, it was good news. Cassie was extraordinary and if trained, she could be even more so. Chris was excited to tell her, but the conversation about her "star" would have to wait until after the wedding. He didn't want her to know what he was really doing in Nohea.

"So, if these 'Pixie Elves' are so secretive," Chris wondered aloud, "how do you know so much about them?"

"If you work with jewels, you come across the Pixie Elves every once in a while. I've heard the whispers. I've seen a few signs. I've made trades through third parties."

"Hypothetically speaking, if we ever want to find them. . . ?" he asked, just to know.

"You cannot ever be sure of their exact place. They travel often. They have no true home. Not anymore. But. . ." She raised her hands and eyes to the heavens.

"The sky?"

"The clouds. That's where they vanish. Or so I've heard."

"How do they get up there without wings?"

"They don't need wings." Sintisa gave a little shrug that seemed to signify the end of the conversation. She either didn't know much more about the Pixie Elves or had better things to do. "Why don't we get back to the jewels?"

"All right. Let's," Chris agreed. He set his elbows on the table, ready to see what she had and haggle for a fair price.

"You ask for a diamond. But could I interest you in something else?" she said, almost bewitchingly.

"I don't know. What's better than a diamond?"

Sintisa put her hands in her pockets. She jangled the contents, the pockets seemingly as deep as wells. Finally, after a far reach on the left, she pulled out a black sack and emptied her gemstones onto the table. She also removed an additional sack from her other pocket. Gold and silver loops with empty settings bounced onto the table as well.

"Do any of them . . . speak to you?"

He surveyed them all quickly, overwhelmed, and not sure what they were supposed to say. "Do you mind if I pick them up for a better look?"

Sintisa swept her hands over the gemstones to give him free rein.

Chris lifted each gem closer to the candle. He sorted the rubies, diamonds, and colorful sapphires into two piles—maybe and probably not. The rubies, although spectacular, went right into the "no" pile. If that blood-red color disappeared from the world, he wouldn't miss it.

Sintisa was right about the diamonds. They didn't capture his attention or seem like they would complement Cassie's aura very well. She was too extraordinary for the routine and commonplace, and they'd bring ice to her warmth. But he did move one into the "maybe" pile anyway. Human tradition still had a tight hold on him.

Chris ended up with mostly sapphires in his pile. "I like the dark blue ones, but not for her."

"I see. I know just the thing." Sintisa retrieved four small blue sapphires, the number corresponding with his mark, which, according to her, was essential. Then she rummaged through the masculine assortment of rings, setting aside a few options for him. He pointed to the one he liked best—silver in color, the metal swirled, twisted, and braided, with no distinct pattern. "You're drawn to them because you are a Capricorn. Saturn is your ruling planet and the blue sapphire belongs to it. This is wise and exactly what I would have suggested for your ring. They will provide balance in delicate situations." She held up her jeweler's tool and jostled it from side to side. "Shall I?"

Chris gave her the go-ahead nod and she began adding the blue sapphires to the wedding band he selected, opening and closing some of the metal work to do so. While she was busy, he continued analyzing every gemstone. Pink, lavender, reddish, green, yellow-orange. Square, rectangular oval, round.

After a while, he stopped and rubbed his eyes. They were all nice, but not what he was looking for. Although he kept his piles intact, he pushed them back toward her.

Sintisa finished his band with a knowing smile, apparently pleased with his indecision. "For a rare beauty, you need a rare stone."

"You have something better?"

Her eyes flared open, catching the flames as she nodded, her mouth slightly ajar. She collected, sacked, and pocketed the gemstones, and went to the curtained area at the back.

Sintisa soon returned to her seat across from him and presented an intricately designed container, made of blown glass that had a yellow glow. She cracked open the encasement as if she were revealing to him the secret of life.

Chris took the open glass box from her hand. "It's so bright." He didn't need to bring the spectacular yellow sapphire closer to the light. It was a light source of its own. He would have never considered a yellow gemstone for a wedding, but it reminded him of his bride-to-be more than words could explain. It was like holding a sunbeam.

"Cut and polished by the Pixie Elves," Sintisa informed him. "It makes all the difference."

He couldn't take his eyes off it. "Are you sure this is appropriate for her?" The sapphire appeared to be something grander than stone, magical beyond comprehension, formidable even.

"Your Pixie Elf bride could use the power of Jupiter to guide her from the darkest of places."

"I'm not . . . I don't. . ."

"Take the sapphire. Trusssst me."

The sparkling jewel and the hiss of her words were hypnotic. It was his fear of the stone's price that finally snapped Chris out of his trance. "How much?"

"Ten thousand."

"Manako notes?"

She nodded. "Another two for the blue sapphires and the rings."

"Twelve thousand manako notes!" he repeated in disbelief. "These gems are only a fraction of the size of what you would find in a human jewelry store. We might be descended from royalty, but it's not like we're on their payroll!"

"If you knew what I went through to acquire this jewel. . ."

"I can't. It's too much." Chris snapped closed the glass box and the whole tent darkened. He didn't want to look at it anymore if he couldn't have it. He rose from his chair, prepared to leave without purchasing anything.

"You're right!" she blurted, rising from her chair to follow him. "You are special guest and deserve a special price."

He returned to his seat, now wholly unenthused with ring shopping. Twelve thousand manako notes was twice what he had expected to pay. And besides, he only had eight thousand in his possession. Although he had lived frugally for a number of years and his father had a respectable sum of money stashed in the hut, which he was free to use, he wasn't about to burn through a good chunk of his family's savings in one sitting like that. He had a baby on the way, and it was a cruel world out there.

"Nine thousand," she said, her salesperson indifference making a comeback.

"Five," he countered, aiming low on purpose. He was familiar with the game she was playing and it was obvious she wanted to make the sale.

"I can't give them away. Seven fifty."

Chris placed his elbows on the table and leaned forward. "Six fifty."

"Seven. Final offer."

"Fine. Deal."

With that settled, Chris selected Cassie's rings, one for the engagement, which would include the sapphire, and a simple band for the wedding ceremony. With time to spare, he watched Sintisa add the piece of mystery to the ring with the prongs. Once through, she handed him the finished product to inspect.

He put the ring on the end of his pinky finger. The sapphire had him enchanted once again. Only when the jewel trader cleared her throat did he realize she was ready to close the deal.

"Oh, right. The money."

Chris closed Cassie's ring back in its glass box and pulled a wad of orange notes from his daypack. He counted out seven thousand, counted again to make sure, and Sintisa did the same. She nodded when she agreed it was the correct amount and stashed the manako notes in her deep pocket.

With the task complete, Chris added his purchases to his daypack and rose from his crate. "Well, thank you. This has been a very enlightening experience."

She bowed her head graciously. "I wish you good fortune and a long happy life together."

Chris gave her a slight smile. "I appreciate that." He turned to go.

"Your parents forgive you," Sintisa called after him.

Chris released the drape of the exit and turned back, slow with shock. He searched the gypsy-fairy's face for sincerity, acknowledged it, and then felt grief trickle into his throat. But it wasn't the time or place for a show of emotion, so he swallowed all signs of it. "What about my brother?"

She shook her head, her lips pressed together in a grim line. "I can't hear his voice."

Chris nodded mournfully, pulled his hood over his head, and ducked back into the crowded marketplace.

⭐️⭐️⭐️

Equal parts of happiness and sorrow kept Chris's thoughts occupied on his return home. He was getting married in a week. About that, he was ecstatic. And about the baby, he was overjoyed as well. But with so many secrets he was forced to keep for a while, he felt alone in his joy. He had so much good news to share and few to share it with.

Without giving away the details, he considered showing Simona or Jasmine the rings he bought. They would be happy for him, but how would his mother react if she were alive? What advice would she give? Would she think he was the basest creature on the face of the earth for what he did to his brother? Or would she understand better than anyone that there are many types of love, the extent of which can vary, and only when love is satisfied to its extreme could it be considered "true?"

Chris also wished he could talk to his father or even a non-angry version of Joe about the Pixie Elf discovery, since he couldn't discuss it with Cassie until after the wedding. They would probably know more about fairy and elven races than he would—Scott from life experience and Joe from the treasure trove of information he kept stored away for whatever use.

Simply put, he missed his family. The family that once was—pre-cancer, before Joe's academic pursuits led him away from home, and prior to his father's mysterious disappearance. Granted, his mother would be dead regardless, but if they somehow avoided their fairy fate, the three "men" and two grandchildren she left behind might be living in the same town, leading relatively normal lives. Her death may have been unifying rather than dividing.

Over the last few years, Chris had been too preoccupied to think about his father and brother all that much. But if Chris needed them, he knew where to find them. Now there was a potential void in his life. He had trouble feeling it or accepting it, though. There were too many unanswered questions. And more reasons than ever to seek answers and justice if the answer was what he feared.

When Chris was close to home, he had to ask himself: If I could take it all back? If I could erase the last five years and resume my old life, would I consider it?

He went inside the hut before he came to an answer.

Cassie had left a lantern burning in the kitchen. Either purposely or coincidentally, she led him past little flowered dresses on the table, made by hand and with love. From his daypack, he removed the gender-neutral baby clothes he had purchased in Nohea and added them to the pile. They looked silly in comparison, but Cassie wouldn't see it like that. She would love the gift because she loved the gift giver.

Chris picked up the lantern and checked on Morgan and Ryan. He listened to their breathing patterns for a few cycles—Morgan's a little squeaky, Ryan's slow and heavy—and then he went to his room.

Cassie was asleep on her back in a pastel-pink nightgown, the sheets at her hip and tangled through her legs. One hand was resting on her stomach. Her other arm was cradling her turned head on the pillow.

She didn't awaken when Chris took his place next to her, but she shifted to her side, perhaps a subconscious response to his close presence. He slipped the hand on her stomach into his, intending to protect both mother and child from any threat, either real or imaginary.

He closed his eyes and drifted to his earlier inquiry. Would I go back if I could?

The answer was a simple, humble, and wholehearted no. He was a fairy, by more than just blood now, and he was exactly where he was meant to be. Never again would he doubt that.

⭐️⭐️⭐️