Stained Glass Secrets and Star Wishes, page 1
Table of Contents
Excerpt
Stained Glass Secrets and Star Wishes
Copyright
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Epilogue
A word about the author…
Thank you for purchasing
Also available from The Wild Rose Press
“I can’t believe you made this. How long did it take?”
His attention snapped back from the snow castle. The Ashrai measured time differently, so he wasn’t sure how to answer. He pulled off his hat, shoved it into his pocket. “It was done before the sun rose.”
Her expression lifted. “You worked all night?”
“Yes.” He swallowed at the nerves jabbing inside. The image of her crying in the window flashed through his mind again. “For you. I wanted to make you smile.”
Her mouth dropped open, pink lips unable to express what she might have wanted to say. Or maybe, like him, she wasn’t sure how much truth to divulge.
Stained Glass Secrets and Star Wishes
by
Celaine Charles
Christmas Cookies Series
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.
Stained Glass Secrets and Star Wishes
COPYRIGHT © 2022 by Celaine Charles
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press, Inc. except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
Contact Information: info@thewildrosepress.com
Cover Art by Kristian Norris
The Wild Rose Press, Inc.
PO Box 708
Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708
Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com
Publishing History
First Edition, 2022
Digital ISBN 978-1-5092-4326-6
Christmas Cookies Series
Published in the United States of America
Dedication
Merry, holly, and cheer to my P.B. writing critique group—The Write Club! I appreciate your encouragement and truth with this holiday challenge.
To my family, friends, betas, and editors, I raise a mug of hot cocoa and a holiday cookie in your honor!
’Tis the season to all of you and the heavens above! XOXOXOX
Chapter 1
Laiken
“What do the stars know?” Laiken peered at the tiny Christmas ornament resting in his palm. The silvery star-shaped edges barely grazed each webbed blue finger as he closed it into a fist. Lifting his arm, elbow bent, ready to hurl the trinket across the chamber, he stopped short. His late grandmother’s words rippled through his core like the currents in a river. Star wishes are star wishes to one species or the next. Make your wish and claim it true.
Frustration deflated when his shoulders dropped, and he opened his hand to hold up the ornament. It spun on a red ribbon in Faery’s hazy morning light, filtering through the sodden borders of his airtight, underwater territory. Laiken exhaled, glancing out the castle window. Dim rays bent through the watery world separating his enclosed family estate from the dry lands above. It was only a short swim from his home to the banks of Faery, and even farther to the human world, but his mind felt a million miles away.
“What are you doing?” Laiken’s brother, Aenon, leaned in the arched stone doorway, dark eyebrows raised. “Christmas in Faery? Why are you keeping up with Grandmother’s strange traditions? She is gone.”
“She has only just passed.” Laiken ignored his older brother’s wrinkled forehead and hung the star on a green branch of a young spruce. He’d dragged it from the woods above to their bubble-enclosed castle the night before.
Aenon wasn’t the only brother worried about Laiken’s grief after the death of their grandmother. His three older brothers were just as concerned. Although their family was close, Laiken’s kinship to her was…unique. He was the youngest, and the only one of five who had sat at her feet, begging for more stories from the past. His favorites were about the times their kind, the Ashrai, ventured to the human world far outside the lands of Faery. And as Laiken grew, he became her favorite, not for a lack of loving her other grandsons, but more about enjoying his constant audience. Even Mother and Father agreed that Laiken’s company was medicinal for the aging water fairy.
Laiken sighed aloud. He hadn’t realized that she’d had medicinal effects on his own spirit. Listening to her stories kept her talking, with bright eyes and reminiscing smiles. They kept her alive, and in a way, brightened his own lifeline. Until now. He not only missed his grandmother; he missed his friend. What was next? With four older brothers to follow in their family’s legacy, guarding the four borders of their underwater territory for Faery, there was nothing left for a fifth brother to do. Even when he’d grown old enough to work as a respected guardian, he was scarcely needed, save filling in for another fairy-soldier.
“Grandmother was centuries old. She lived a good life.” Aenon put a webbed hand on Laiken’s shoulder. “It is time to let her rest and think about the family legacy.”
“And where do I fit in this legacy?” Laiken snapped before his head bobbed against his chest. “I am sorry.” He regretted his words, letting his long green hair flow across his face. “I mean to say, I have been so busy with her these last months…years. The rest of you have the borders covered. I have no path.” He eyed his brother.
Aenon stood in the doorway, copper leg scales glinting in dawn’s glow. His green breastplate sat askew against his chest, loosened after his evening shift. “Well, I am sure Rayan could use you in the south.” He pulled his emerald locks out of the gathered knot atop his head.
Laiken arched his eyebrows. Was that it?
“Or maybe Struan in the west?” Aenon scratched his head.
“Are you going to list off all our brothers? The province beneath Faery is as safe as the queen’s private courts. Father has seen to that with his first four sons.” He leaned against the window’s ledge, condensation dampening his shoulder, but it felt warm and somehow comforting against his scales.
Aenon was slow to respond, or maybe he had nothing to say. Laiken glanced around at Grandmother’s treasured souvenirs, collected from beyond the surface. They filled every stone shelf along the walls. She hadn’t gathered them from the lands of Faery. No, she’d found these tokens much farther from home, in the human world. It was a place the Ashrai never ventured…anymore, far beyond their own waterways, through a veil between worlds. It wasn’t the distance though. There were too many humans now, and captivity on human land was a death sentence to any water fairy.
Laiken exhaled, emotionally and physically spent. Sunlight trickled through the window, a natural reminder for his kind; it was time for bed. Although the water-filtered sunlight did not affect water fairies in their homelands, as it might beyond their world, they still did their best to avoid its scorching rays.
“You aren’t useless,” Aenon finally said. “You have already completed the queen’s training as guardian. Do not let your time with Grandmother detour you from your rightful journey. She needed you in the end, and for that Mother is grateful. We all are. But Grandmother has passed on…” He stopped, picked up a bauble from a shelf. It was a hand-sized, wood-carved figurine, though softened from the constant moisture in the trapped air, locked under volumes of water. “What is this?”
Laiken took it from him and held it at the proper angle. “It is a bear cub holding the English letter D.”
Aenon shook his head, as if he couldn’t quite see it. As children, fairies learned all worldly languages. But the skill was scarcely needed now. Even when humans found their way to the bottom of the deepest parts of the lake, or the darkest caverns of a cave, they couldn’t see through Faery’s glamoured veil between worlds. The only time their kind intertwined with fairies was with intentional, planned visits. The kind Grandmother had secretly shared only with her favorite grandson.
Laiken angled his head, taking in the bear carving, particularly the letter D. He thought of her stories from atop the human surface…and the star wishes that led her there. He thought about Duke’s Inn, where the letter D on the carving originated. It was a human vacation spot far beyond them. A smile spread across his cheeks as he remembered his own excursion to that world two years ago. An experience his parents did not know about.
Aenon took the figurine from his brother and placed it back on the shelf, squaring his shoulders toward Laiken. “Then, come with me. I will demote one of my men. You can assist on the northern side.”
Laiken ran his hand along the stone wall, sending water droplets in streams under his fingers. He couldn’t take his gaze off the carved letter D. “I—I need to do something first.”
He thought about Grandmother’s last words. Make your wish and claim it true. But she was gone, and he had no idea what to wish for. Usefulness seemed a waste of a wish. He needed only to join one of his brothers to be beneficial to his queen and his kingdom, even if it meant a lifetime in their shadows. Could there be more? More to Grandmother’s obsession with the human surface, and more for him? Maybe she had been trying to tell him something all along.
“You are not going to that world, are you?” His brother’s head tilted, suspicious and alarmed at the same time. “There is no longer room for our kind there.”
Laiken glanced away, focused his attention on the Christmas tree, rearranging ornaments. He turned a wooden one over, so the minnow-carved design faced out. There was a tiny hook sketched in the bottom right corner. She was always tracing tiny minnows in collected dew drops along stone surfaces, even on the back of Laiken’s hand when she held it. Her whispered words fluttered from memory. The minnow, too small for a meal, too resilient to dare, swims among spirit worlds, water and air.
Then he remembered a tale Grandmother spoke about a special fisher from beyond. The human had hooked more than imagined on a line that December evening; a fairy’s heart caught. Had that heart belonged to Grandmother? And if so…her song made no sense. Minnows couldn’t breathe air.
Aenon was right. The Ashrai did not celebrate Christmas, and his family often attributed Grandmother’s odd traditions to her age. But he couldn’t shake her voice from the back of his mind. In her riddles she spoke of a love from beyond, one she was forced to leave behind. When he had questioned the name of such a human, her colorful eyes glossed over. A smile grew, creasing the rose-shaded scales along her cheeks. She would never tell. As much as she was an adventurer, she honored her duty to the Ashrai. But what had that duty cost her in the end?
Longing. She was always longing for what could have been. Time never found.
Grandmother had succumbed to the pressures of their kind and been filled with regret. He never knew if she’d made a wish and refused its bounty or held an unmade wish in her heart all her years. But suddenly, in that moment, he owed it to her to find out more.
The decision came to Laiken before he could even fathom the details, or what he might tell his family. As a final tribute to Grandmother, he would swim to the surface and bathe in the human moonlight, just as their ancestors did. He would discover the secret she had hidden for so long. It would surely help his grieving, wouldn’t it? And maybe in the process, he would wish on a shining star. Maybe, since he couldn’t figure out his own path and purpose, he would wish for a sign.
Could he be so naive as to let a star choose his path?
****
The next nightfall Laiken hovered under the icy lake surface, swimming in spirals, waiting for dusk to settle. Although he would never venture to the human world during the warmer months, he reveled in the silence of winter. The peace called to him, as it had Grandmother, in the forms of snow-covered banks and people-free docks. As the day’s glow faded, he broke the surface and drank in the crisp night air, not quite as cold as his teal-tinged scales. And why shouldn’t he? His kind could breathe both air and water. Why not enjoy the beauty of all lands?
He kicked his webbed feet beneath him and rolled his eyes at the fear his kind held against humans. His few interactions with people, from his visit before, were pleasing. Grandmother had said humans tended to be kind this time of year. December is magical, Little Laiken.
He swallowed his grief, replacing it with memories of starlight, not only from the human skies, but the colorful lights spilling from their wintery houses on the shore. Some of the people here brought outside trees into their homes, just like the spruce he’d set up in Grandmother’s chamber. Others lit candles in rows, adding a new light each night. It seemed as if the humans of James Lake spread joy like moonlight. Grandmother called its beauty the most divine dessert.
Laiken would savor December’s delight in her honor.
Chapter 2
Ember
“Yes, Mom, I packed a Christmas stocking.” Ember glanced into the rearview mirror at her suitcase in the backseat. There was no stocking inside. There was no need. She was spending the holiday alone at her family’s lake cabin.
“Oh honey, this was a mistake.” Mom’s voice crackled through the car speakers. “Who takes a holiday cruise and leaves their only child home alone at Christmas?”
Ember rolled her eyes before focusing on the road, thankful for her four-wheel drive. The sun was just beginning to set through the snow-covered pines. She didn’t want to miss the turnoff that wound around the lake to their property.
“I told her we should have never accepted such a prize.” Dad’s tone snickered over the phone, but she knew he was only teasing. They had both been excited about winning a vacation package. It was their first trip as a retired couple, and when it happened back in June, they had seen it as a sign of change and adventure.
“Guys, listen. This is an amazing opportunity for you. And I’m not a child. I’m not even home alone. I’m twenty-five years old, and Ollie’s with me.” She patted the sleeping springer spaniel next to her, his black and white fur spilling over the passenger seat. He raised an ear at the sound of his name. “We’ll celebrate Christmas in January when you get back.”
“Okay, Em, if you’re sure. But why spend Christmas in the snow-buried cabin? In the middle of nowhere, Idaho? By yourself?” Mom’s voice took on a high pitched she’s-feeling-guilty tone. “We haven’t gone up there in the wintertime in years. What if the heat doesn’t turn on? Or the water pump quits?”
“I fixed all that in August,” Dad threw in.
“Well, it’s broken before, it could break again. Then what would she do?”
“Duke’s always at the inn. He’d help her out.”
“Well, what if it happens in the middle of the night? Duke’s getting older now. He can’t run around taking care of things like that.”
“Oh, for Pete’s sake, she could stoke a fire in the stove. There’s plenty of wood there.”
Ember turned down the volume to drown out their bickering as it streamed through the car stereo. Her vacation days had already been set for the year, and after the last several months of work, she needed this time away. She craved a little mountain air over the stuffy office environment she’d been surviving in.
She’d already canceled three online dates in the last month and missed two Christmas parties because of deadlines. And she hadn’t watched one holiday movie all because of work. She thought about her newly accomplished master’s degree, and the recent promotion she thought she had wanted…now somehow it all chipped away at her soul.
“Hellooooooo?” Ember finally said.
“Shhhhh,” Mom hushed Dad. “Sorry, honey. If anything goes wrong, Duke will fix it. Make sure you check in and let him know you’re there.”
Ember heard an announcement blare in the background through the phone.
“That’s us. We’re loading. Time to say goodbye.” Dad must have leaned closer to the phone, his voice bellowing. “Bye, Sparky. Everything should be fine in the cabin. Don’t forget to leave the window cookies for Santa, so he can find you.”
“Oh yes! You must make our stained-glass window cookies. Did you bring the ingredients? The pantry is pretty bare—”
“We have to go.” Dad’s voice nagged.
Ember pictured the cookies they made every year. Star and snowflake shapes with tiny matching cutouts in the middle. They filled each center with crushed hard candies that melted in the oven into the brightest colors, like little windows. They left a plate of them by the tree every Christmas Eve, Dad swearing these were Santa’s favorite because he could see through the stained glass to the givers’ hearts. This way he could grant more wishes than the ones on their Christmas lists. He could grant their deepest unknown desires.
She shook off the memory, along with every other tradition they’d be postponing until January. “I’ll be fine. I’m looking forward to some downtime. We’ll make window cookies when you come home. Have fun,” Ember said as bubbly as she could, just as the lake road came into view. She clicked on her blinker before tapping her brakes and turned onto the snow-packed dirt road at a slower pace.
“Merry Christmas, honey. Love you, and don’t forget to make those cooki—” Mom’s voice cut short as the call ended.
“Was that convincing enough?” She glanced at Ollie, who sat up and stretched. After driving for six hours, with only a couple bathroom breaks, they were both ready to get out of the car. “We’re almost there, boy. We’ll go for a walk before it gets dark.”
