A Solstice Journey by Felicitas Ivey

Celyn asked with a smile.
    Idris and Cathal nodded, and I wasn’t surprised to be swept out of the hall and back into Celyn’s room another confusing walk later.
    “Celyn,” I started when we got to his room and he shut the door behind us. I didn’t get to say anything more. He kissed me.
    “Just don’t say anything,” he begged. “Just let us have tonight.”
    I kissed him, and we lost each other in our passion.
     
     
    I WOKE up the next morning with Celyn curled around me. “You would leave?” he asked softly.
    “This is wonderful,” I said sincerely, “but this isn’t home.”
    That was becoming less and less true. Last night had felt so right and better than anything I could have believed to be true.
    “It could be,” he said.
    And I could learn to love him, love this place, and make a life for myself here. If Cathal was right, I wasn’t cutting myself off from my family altogether. But did I want to do this?
    “Do you want it to be home for me?” I asked, shifting so that we weren’t so close. “Physically, we seem to be a match, but I don’t know if we can live together.”
    “You are borrowing trouble,” Celyn scolded, sitting up and hugging me. “Only the Norns can see the future.”
    “And they aren’t here, are they?” I pointed out.
    He laughed and shook his head, stealing a kiss from me. He sobered up fast after that kiss, though, his eyes sad and dark. “Stay, please.”
    It wasn’t a command of a prince, but the plea of a man in love. My heart clenched. I couldn’t deny him that simple request. It was insane. It was arrogant, and it should have been the last thing I would do, but his plea touched me more deeply than I could have ever imagined.
    “I need to tell my mother,” I finally said. “I’m willing to try.” It wasn’t a yes or a no, but his eyes lit up, and he kissed me again, pinning me down on the bed.
    “That is all that we need,” he said.
     
     
    I FOUND myself stumbling into the statues of the ducklings in the Public Garden. It was still snowing, and I couldn’t even figure out what day it was, never mind what year. But the snow wasn’t more than an inch or so deep, heavy wet flakes that would melt when they could. This wasn’t the frozen beauty of Sút , but a normal winter’s snowfall.
    I managed to get home, begging a taxi ride from a cabbie who was willing to pick me up even dressed as I was, carrying my suit over one arm. When I was home and changed into something less outlandish, I figured out that only a day had gone by.
    I had to do some very serious thinking about what I wanted for my life. And that included calling my mother to ask her to tell me what really happened. I dialed quickly before I changed my mind, since Sút was already beginning to seem very unreal to me.
    “Mom?” I said as soon as she answered the phone. “I have to talk to you.”
    “You know,” she said calmly.
    “I sort of found out,” I agreed. “But I understand that you couldn’t tell me anything.”
    She was silent on the other end of the line.
    “Was I the reason that we moved all the time?” I asked.
    “That really was because of your father’s job,” she ventured after several breaths of silence.
    “How did you really find me?” I asked. “You always told me that story about finding me lost. How much of it was true?”
    “We were in northern Russia, your father and I, working,” my mother said slowly. “And there you were, out on the tundra, in a place that didn’t have anyone living for miles. We had gone out to see it just because it was there. I knew immediately that you were special. And I didn’t want to lose you, so I made sure that we were never anyplace with snow in the winter. Can you forgive me for that?”
    “I can,” I said gently. “You did it because you loved me.”
    “You’re leaving, aren’t you?” she asked. “Going to wherever you were supposed to be.”
    “Not forever,” I promised. “I actually met someone. He’s