Enchanted Summer Read online

  While Hanna and Mimi both held Ollie in one place, Nate and Ariadne entered the house. Ray greeted them from the staircase, frowning deeply at the fairy as soon as he noticed her. Hanna yelled at them to go, and they all hurried upstairs. Only when they shut the door to what seemed to be Ray’s bedroom did the dog stop barking.

  As soon as they were alone, Ray crossed his arms over his chest, staring at his guests as if they were intruding.

  “When you said you’d come you didn’t mention you’d bring her with you.” His eyes flicked from Ariadne to Nate and back.

  “I thought I’d asked if we could come,” Nate clarified.

  Ray leaned against the windowsill. “I thought it was a typo.”

  His bedroom wasn’t nearly as messy as Ariadne had imagined it to be. Aside from a stack of school books and a small heap of laundry on the floor, it was relatively neat and clean. Ariadne felt that Ray had to thank his girlfriend for that.

  Even though there wasn’t any danger around anymore, she still held on to Nate’s hand. He didn’t seem to object—on the contrary, he didn’t try to let go of her either. It was as if they’d come to some kind of silent understanding with each other. Ariadne was always amazed at how some humans were almost as sensitive to the feelings of others as fairies were. She could sense he was calm and contented at the moment, and the warmth of his skin seeped into hers, filling her with the same emotions.

  Ray had already noticed their intertwined fingers and was shooting questioning glares at his friend.

  “I’m so scared of dogs …” Ariadne murmured to Nate.

  Nate turned to look at her. “Do they always react like that?”

  “Yes! And cats, and some other animals too. They can sense our magic, and it frightens them.”

  “So they jump at you because they’re afraid. And you’re afraid of them?”

  “I can’t control them—that what scares me. And as for cats, I think they assume that us fairies are nothing but their toys.”

  Before Nate could say anything in return, the door opened and Hanna appeared on the threshold, Ryan at her back. The boy’s eyes instantly fixed on Ariadne.

  “Mimi took Ollie out for a brisk walk,” Hanna said. “We should probably relocate to my house, or we’ll drive him crazy with her scent.” She shot an accusatory glance at Nate. “Next time you decide to bring in a fairy, you should probably notify in advance.”

  “It’s not his fault!” Ariadne stepped up to her. “I’ve decided to come on my own.”

  “Ariadne …” She could feel Nate squeezing her hand gently.

  “Oh, come on, guys!” With a wide grin on his face, Ryan pushed past Hanna. “So Ollie went a little crazy at the sight of Ariadne … As if he doesn’t do it fifty times a day on his own. Besides, who wouldn’t do the same upon seeing her?”

  Ariadne suppressed a laugh. Indeed, Ryan looked like he would start jumping around and wagging his tail any moment now. At least somebody in this house was glad to see her.

  “Nice to see you, Ryan.” She smiled.

  His eyebrows shot up. “You remember my name!”

  “Of course, I do. I don’t know that many humans to begin with.”

  Ryan let out a laugh. “See?” He swiveled to face Hanna. “And you all thought she was just a figment of our imagination!”

  “What?” Nate chuckled, quirking an eyebrow at Ray.

  His friend shrugged. “It was a hot day in the woods. We were exhausted. Probably dehydrated.”

  “I’ve always believed that fairies are real,” Hanna broke in, interrupting him. “But then all the photos had disappeared from our phones, and I began to think that maybe we were tricked.”

  Ariadne blinked at her. “Photos?”

  Ray pushed off the windowsill and walked over to them, rummaging in his pocket as he did that.

  “See for yourself,” he said, tapping at the screen a few times before showing it to her and Nate.

  The pictures were exactly the ones Ariadne had expected to find. Just a regular lake—not unlike the ones she’d encountered many times in the lands outside of the Forest. The water was clear but had a brownish tint to it, and there was nothing but weeds, gray rocks, and an occasional fish underneath its surface.

  “I’ve told you the illusion was playing with your mind.” She glanced up at Ray.

  “But I’ve looked through these photos while we were at the lake!” Hanna argued. “There were pixies, and nixies, and glowing crystals …”

  “Just imagine that you were dreaming,” Ariadne attempted to explain once again—Ray rolled his eyes, “and while asleep you held a camera in your hands. So you took pictures of the forest, and while you looked at them through the filter of your dream, they were exactly like what you saw before your eyes. But upon waking you’d discovered that you just photographed the mundane things around you. A rare human remembers the Enchanted Forest exactly the way it had appeared before them. Most don’t remember anything at all. Consider yourselves lucky that you’ve got a glimpse of it.”

  “I would consider myself lucky if you took me back there with you,” Ryan said.

  Ariadne’s lips curved into a smile.

  Ray sighed. “The lake might have been an illusion, but, apparently, you’re not.” He glared at Nate. “And when exactly were you planning to tell us about her?”

  Ariadne was about to jump up to his defense, but Nate’s voice sounded unflustered as he replied. “You’ve spent weeks trying to convince me that my house was haunted. Why are you so shocked to find out about the fairy?”

  Ray rolled his eyes, then dragged his hand through his hair. “I was just fooling around! If you haven’t noticed it already, our job is not the most exciting.”

  “So is the life in this town,” Hanna added. “That’s probably why people come up with all these stories. Although I’ve always believed in them. Life is full of mysteries.”

  Ray threw his hands up. “I can accept the fact that ghosts and aliens exist—after all, it’s common sense, isn’t it?” Nate raised an eyebrow in amusement, but his friend ignored it. “But fairies? Fairies?”

  “What’s so unbelievable about fairies?” Ryan chimed in. “They’re cooler than aliens and ghosts!”

  “Ryan, what would your school buddies say if they found out that you’re going crazy over a fairy?” Ray glanced over at his brother.

  Ryan shrugged. “I don’t care. It’s their problem.”

  Ariadne wasn’t sure if she should be flattered or scared by this boy’s persistent attention. Suddenly, right in the middle of their bickering, she sensed a weak cry for help. Startled by it, dryad didn’t notice how she let go of Nate’s hand.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked her softly, but she just shook her head.

  All of her senses alert, she whirled in place, trying to locate the poor creature.

  Maybe it was a butterfly beating its wings against a windowpane? A bug trapped in the thick fleece of a carpet? A houseplant somewhere? The cry seemed so distant—maybe it was coming from another room? Ariadne was on the verge of asking someone about it when she finally spotted the source.

  The room grew silent as everyone watched her cross the floor and come over to the windowsill Ray occupied just a minute ago. There, among the piles of books and papers, she found a lonely little cactus in a small clay pot.

  Ariadne’s heart squeezed, and she barely held herself from crying out. The poor thing was on its last legs: withered on one side, bloated on another, looking like a deflated balloon. The soil all around it was dry and cracked. Ariadne reached out and picked up the pot.

  Hanna groaned and came closer. “Oh, that poor little cactus! I’ve told you a million times to give it to someone who knows how to take care of it! And, of course, you didn’t listen to me!”

  “It’s my cactus!” Ray grumbled, crossing his arms defensively over his chest. “I can take care of it.”

  Hanna motioned to the plant. “Oh, really? See what you’ve done to it! Ray, how many t
imes do I have to tell you? Don’t get any more plants. They just don’t like you, so they all die. Now the only thing left to do is just to throw this poor thing out.” She stretched out her hand, meaning to grab the pot out of Ariadne’s hands.

  “No!” Ariadne and Ray both cried out at the same time; Ariadne clutched the plant to her chest while Ray gawked at her in bewilderment.

  “I can save it,” she murmured.

  Hanna raised an eyebrow in clear skepticism.

  “Really?” Ray stepped closer; and for the first time since she met him, Ariadne detected something other than distrust in his emotions toward her. There was hope gleaming in his eyes; a plea almost.

  She nodded. “I can’t leave it like that. It’s my duty.”

  Everyone watched in fascination as she set the potted plant back on the windowsill, then cupped her hands around it. A bright glow escaped her palms, drowning out the lopsided cactus until it was no longer visible. Ariadne closed her eyes. She could hear Ryan gasp from behind her back, but then she focused all of her attention on the magic flowing through her body.

  She already felt severely drained after helping so many plants in this world, and this one required a lot of her magic to revive. She hoped she wouldn’t faint from exhaustion. She didn’t know what would happen if she did, but she couldn’t let herself dwell on it. A dryad had one purpose in this world—in any world—and Ariadne wasn’t going to fail.

  Finally, after what seemed like forever, she felt a shift in the energy. The plant was no longer dying—it emitted happiness and vitality, thanking her, in its own peculiar way, for saving its life. Ariadne exhaled and let go, stumbling back. Her eyelids felt heavy; her fingers trembled. Dizziness overcame her for a moment, and she staggered, barely falling on her back, only to be caught by somebody’s strong hands.

  Nate—she could feel it was him without having to open her eyes.

  “Are you all right?” his voice sounded by her ear. “What should I do? Should I bring you some water?” There was a slight panic in his voice, and even in her dizzy state, Ariadne hated the fact that she’d made him worry about her.

  “Some water would be nice,” she whispered in reply. “But don’t leave me.”

  “Of course,” he breathed. “Ryan,” she heard him address the boy, “could you fetch some water for Ariadne?”

  “Of course!” Ryan answered, and a moment later Ariadne heard the door slam in his wake.

  “What’s going on? Did that ever happen to her before?” Hanna asked, her voice drenched with panic just like Nate’s—though she wasn’t trying to hide it like him.

  She could imagine Nate shaking his head in response.

  “Maybe we should lay her down?” Ray said—Ariadne barely recognized his voice, it sounded so unlike him.

  “I’m not sure how to do it without damaging her wings.”

  “I’m all right, I’m all right …” Ariadne willed herself to pry her eyelids open. “How is the cactus? Did I do it?”

  Her vision was blurry for a few moments, and when the room finally came into focus, she found Ray and Hanna both staring at her in agitation. Ray was holding the potted cactus in his hands, clutching it to his chest. He looked kind of funny with it—so different from the skeptical, arrogant guy that she’d seen before. The plant appeared happy and healthy.

  Ariadne let out a breath of relief. She succeeded.

  Good. Everything was good.

  Following her example, Hanna released a breath that she’d been holding.

  “Now, Ray.” She turned to her boyfriend. “You’d better take good care of this cactus so that we wouldn’t need to call up a fairy to revive it again and make her barely faint in the process.”

  Ariadne’s lips curved into a smile. “It’s fine. I wasn’t in my best shape this morning.” She flicked her weary eyes to Ray. “It’s too dark in here for your little friend. Put it on the window facing the south. And don’t forget to water it regularly—especially during the summer.”

  Ray dropped his eyes to look at his prickly pet. “Hanna was probably right …” he mumbled. “Plants don’t like me. They all die in my presence. I should give it to someone before I kill it again. But”—he glanced up at Ariadne once again—“thank you.”

  Ariadne gave him a smile.

  “Aww …” Hanna wrapped her arms around her boyfriend’s waist. “I didn’t know you loved it so much! I’ll help you take care of it.”

  “Are you feeling better?” Nate’s voice sounded by her ear again, and Ariadne twisted to look at him.

  All of this time, she noted, he was gently supporting her so that she wouldn’t fall down, but never did his hands come in contact with her wings. He made sure to only touch her shoulders and the upper back. It fascinated her for some reason—and made her a little sad all at the same time.

  “Yes,” she murmured a reply. “Thank you.”

  A smile appeared on his lips, but it faded soon as he dropped his gaze. “Was it the same,” he asked, “with the willow?”

  Following his example, Ariadne averted her gaze.

  “It took me a full day. And I slept for the next couple of days to recover.”

  She almost bit her tongue at the lie. She never recovered after reviving the willow. That magic was gone and never replaced.

  “And then you restored the rest of the garden. Truly, Ariadne”—their eyes met again—“I will probably never find enough words to thank you.” He chuckled. “What did I ever do to deserve your attention?”

  Even though he was talking about the garden, Ariadne suddenly felt uneasy. Her heart lurched, and she staggered away from his touch, wanting to put a little distance between them.

  Nate didn’t even try to hold on to her. He dropped his hands at once, his eyebrows rising slightly in question, and for a moment Ariadne wished that he wouldn’t let go. There was something symbolic in all that—and she knew she was the first one to tell him that she didn’t need him.

  “You have nothing to do with that.” Her voice trembled as she spoke; her gaze swiveled in another direction. “It was my duty as a dryad.”

  She heard him chuckle softly. “So you just flew around the neighborhood, looking for a messy garden to tend?”

  Thankfully, Ariadne didn’t have the chance to answer that question as the door to Ray’s room swung open and Ryan rushed in holding a tall glass of water in his hand. She thanked the boy and made a few gulps.

  Hanna suggested they should move to her house before Mimi and Ollie returned to avoid bumping into them again, and as soon as Ariadne finished drinking and confirmed that she was feeling good enough to walk, they set off.

  Hanna walked ahead with Ray and Nate at her side. Ariadne wanted to join them, but Ryan caught up to her and struck up a conversation, so she ended up walking all the way with him.

  He was showing her pictures on his phone, talking non-stop about his gaming hobby.

  “I’ve always thought dryads look like this,” he was saying, showing her an illustration of a tree-like creature with bark for her skin, all wrapped up in vines. “Or like this.”

  “They may look like that in another world,” Ariadne said. “The amount of possibilities is infinite.”

  Ryan looked at her in wonder. “I want to ask you so many questions!” He finally exclaimed, stashing his phone into his pocket. “You have no idea how much I want to know about you and your world.”

  She laughed, covering her mouth with her hand. “I’m afraid I won’t be the one to answer them.”

  “Why?” He blinked at her. “I’ve never even dreamed of meeting someone like you! Those powers that you’ve talked about … does everyone in your world possess them?”

  “Every dryad has them; yes. But the amount of power differs. Not everyone can revive big trees, for instance, but any dryad has the ability to alleviate their suffering—and it’s our duty to do so.”

  “So that means you’re in the higher rank,” Ryan concluded, pressing a finger to his lips.

&nbs
p; Ariadne watched him out of the corner of her eye. She had to be careful with this boy.

  “And so you’re the ones who rule over the forest, right?” he asked.

  “If you could call it that way, yes.” Ariadne nodded. “I’m not sure pixies and nixies and other little creatures would agree with that. Nobody can be their master. It’s kind of like this”—she thought of a simile—“the lion is considered to be the king of savanna, but does he truly rule over it? I doubt other animals accept him as one.”

  “And what do you actually do?” Ryan barely skipped from excitement. “What do you occupy yourself with, having all those abilities? You can’t possibly spend all your days taking care of plants. Do you war with other magical races over territory? I mean, sure, the lion is the king of savanna, but there are tigers and pumas, leopards and panthers. Don’t you ever get into conflict with each other?”

  Ariadne shook her head, white hair brushing her cheeks. Too many questions. Delving into the forbidden territory. Time to wrap up this strange conversation.

  “Dryads are peaceful folk. We have powerful ancient magic guarding the borders of our Forest, so nobody from the outside has ever tried claiming our territory. As for our occupation and our life purpose—I’m afraid I won’t be able to satisfy your curiosity. It is the information too sacred to share with a human. I will only tell you one thing: a dryad exists to serve.”

  She could see from a distance Hanna running up the steps of one of the houses and guessed that they’d arrived at their destination. Ryan sighed beside her.

  “Too bad,” he commented. “I wish I were a human worthy enough to keep a fairy secret, but oh well.” He shrugged, then cracked a smile. “I hope it’s not the last time we’re having this conversation.”

  And he rushed ahead, joining Ray who’d called him from the walkway.

  Nate fell back to reconnect with Ariadne.

  “What did you talk about?” he asked her with a smile when they were close enough to each other.

  Ariadne sighed. “He wants to know everything about the Enchanted Forest and my powers.”