The Faeries' Harp

18: Farewell

Rhys runs through the woods in what he guesses to be the direction of his village and Evelyn’s cottage. It seems to be just before noon, based on the position of the sun in the sky, from what Rhys can tell through the tree branches overhead. I’m sure time passes differently in the fae realm than it does here. Maybe I haven’t been gone too terribly long, he hopes.

To his relief, he’s chosen the right direction, and the portal was closer to his childhood home than he’d thought it was. All this time, it’s been so close, and yet, I never had an inkling….

Rhys knocks on the door of the cottage tentatively, wondering if Evelyn is all right, if she’s home, if she’s gone out to look for him. He thinks he hears a weak groan, and so he opens the door. A couple of dirty dishes are in the sink, and the space seems more cluttered than he normally allows it to become. It’s been more than a morning here, then. Perhaps a day? Knowing he can’t waste time in idle musings, he cautiously makes his way to Evelyn’s bedroom. Normally, he would take care not to disturb her when she’s in there, but these are far from normal circumstances.

When he opens the door, he sees Evelyn in bed, looking wan and hopeless.

“Ma?” he says tentatively. Evelyn jolts upright and stares at him, then starts weeping.

“Oh…. I thought you’d left…. Forever, I mean. I thought you’d given up on me,” she sobs.

“Such a thing I could never do. Leaving was never my intention. The way time flies, I never knew, and I would’ve come back sooner, but for a distraction.” Why am I rhyming? Rhys wonders to himself. Fortunately for him, Evelyn is still crying too much to question the odd cadence of his speech.

“You weren’t here when I got up yesterday morning. I’ve been worried sick about you ever since. At first I thought you’d just gotten a head start on looking for work, but no one in town had seen you, and….” More tears cut off the flow of her words. “Where have you been?”

“That I cannot say. But I came with a gift, your debts to pay.” He gently places the bag of coins from Saoirse in Evelyn’s lap. Her eyes grow wide as saucers as she opens the drawstrings, revealing that it is full to the brim with silver coins.

“We’ll be set for life!” she exclaims.

“You will be. I cannot stay.”

“Why? What happened? What did you have to do to get these?” Evelyn is suddenly suspicious, but she looks more alive than she has in a long while, and for that Rhys is grateful.

“Perhaps more can come, in time. How much, how often, who’s to say? The chance we’ve wanted now is mine, in a most unexpected way. Promises now I cannot make, of how much or when this bounty comes, nor when I might return again, but should more blessings on you rain, know that they come from your own son.” He moves to leave; the rhyming is getting ridiculous, and sooner or later the allure of the money is bound to wear off, and then she’ll have more questions that he knows he cannot answer.

“Rhys, wait. If you’re in some sort of trouble—”

“For me, no trouble, just an opportunity that I must leave to chase immediately.”

“You just got here!”

“I love you.” Finally, words got out without a rhyme or a riddle or any cryptic-ness. Rhys is relieved and flees his mother’s room. 

“Rhys, wait!” To his surprise, he hears her footsteps behind him, and then as he’s trying to go out the front door, her hand catches his, and a searing pain flashes through his whole arm even as he jerks out of her grasp.

A glance at his palm reveals that an imprint of one of the silver coins is burned into his flesh. He clenches his fist to hide it, but when his eyes meet Evelyn’s, he knows she saw it anyway. Before any more words can be said, he turns and flees, and this time she lets him go.

The stories always said the fae couldn’t touch silver without being burned. I wonder if she’ll make the connection. I wonder if I’ll be able to make it back through the portal, after this. Do any of them know? Will I be able to see Saoirse again? Will I ever meet my real family?