Chapter 36

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Rowan approaches her grandmother nervously, not very excited for the continuation of their argument from last night. With a sigh, she sits on the stone bench beside her grandmother.

"Hey, Gran."

Aisling turns her head to look Rowan in the eyes, her own green eyes hard and resolved. "Rowan."

Rowan winces at the tone of her grandmother's voice. No, this conversation certainly won't be pleasant. "What is it, Gran?"

"We're going to talk about your friends."

"Okay . . ."

"If you think I should trust you with your faery friends, to ignore their fae blood, you're going to have to tell me why you trust them."

Rowan huffs out a sigh. "Beyond the fact that not every faery is bad," her grandmother starts to protest and Rowan quickly shakes her head. "No, Gran. They're not all bad. And if you refuse to believe that, what type of friends would you not argue about?"

"Human friends. Humans aren't as tricky."

Rowan sighs again, but then realization sparks in her mind. She might have a way to get her grandmother to leave it be. "They were both born human, they've known about their faery blood only a few months longer than I have."

Aisling's eyes widen in shock. "What? They're part human?" Rowan nods. "How do you know they're not trying to trick you?"

"Really, Gran? Really?"

Rowan's grandmother doesn't give the response the slightest bit of her attention, she just moves on. "What type of faeries are they?"

"Star is a selkie, Wave is a merrow."

Several expressions flash across Aisling's face until she finally settles on resignation. Even so, she moves onto a new topic. "You never told me why they would help you."

"They've had similar experiences, they know what it's like, and it makes them want to help." She hesitates. "There's also something else."

Aisling sits up, her eyes brightening. "What is it?"

"There's a prophecy."

"A what?" Rowan's grandmother shrieks.

Rowan winces, knowing that her mother must have heard. She's right, Arwen sticks her head out the kitchen window. She has a sky-blue mug cupped between her hands. She's frowning, her eyebrows creased together in confusion and worry.

"What's going on out here?"

Rowan and her grandmother speak in unison. "Nothing!"

Arwen lowers the cup onto the counter and places her hands on her hips. Rowan can see the movement through the window. "Really?"

Rowan nods quickly. Her mother doesn't make any move to return to what she was doing, still watching the two on the bench. While her mother is watching, Aisling can't make Rowan tell her about the prophecy. While Rowan knows she needs to do that, she doesn't want to. Not yet, anyway. She's still coming to terms with it in her own head. She slips off the bench and kisses her grandmother on the cheek.

"I'll be back later. Talk then?"

Her grandmother twists around, her eyes wide. She hisses lowly. "Rowan!"

Rowan just shakes her head and darts toward the gate. She unlatches it and slips outside. The grasses outside are still damp with dew, the water collecting in the air before the coming rain preventing the dew from drying out. By the time Rowan crosses the field, her pants and the hem of her shirt are streaked with water. The humidity rises once she enters the forest, she can taste the water in the air.

She grins. Rowan loves the autumn rains, the combination of the crisp air and the blanketing dampness of rain. The smell of it is contrasting too, creating something lovely. Rowan hums to herself as she walks through the forest, not able to get part of her mother's song out of her head. She keeps that tune as the background to her song, but she wraps her own notes around it.

The sound resonates through the forest, bouncing off the leaves and flying back to her. The sound of it surprises her at first, the sound overwhelming her. She stops, listening to the sound fade with her own silence. The original tune is the last to fade, waiting a moment after her complimenting notes fade before it disappears. Rowan starts humming again and the forest around her fills with noise.

It sounds like the world's a concert in itself, channelling the music through the air. When she steps into the clearing, Astrila is standing outside the dome, leaning against its leafy side. She's frowning, Rowan doesn't know if it's in concentration or distress. Rowan stops humming to ask a question.

"Is everything alright?"

Astrila jerks, startled. "That was you?"

Rowan frowns. "The music?" Astrila nods. Rowan flushes. "Yes, that was me. Sorry."

"Don't be! It was lovely. It reminded me of the wind."
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What do you think of Rowan's grandmother's reactions to hearing about Rowan's friends? Is she going too far? Was Rowan using her mother's attention to escape further questions smart? What do you think of the music? What's going to happen next? Tell me your thoughts!

Happy reading and I'll see you next chapter!

~Goddess of Fate, signing out.

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