Chapter 1

“It’s all your fault…”

Lizzy Luna just lost a patient, but all she could focus on was the final words of her best friend, Vic. He died in her arms a week ago today. While everyone else on the team took a moment to honor the patient’s passing, Lizzy stared blankly through the body. She didn’t see a heart attack victim; she saw Vic’s body sprawled on the pavement. His limbs splayed unnaturally while blood pooled around his head. She had accidentally put her hand in it. The thick stickiness stuck in her head, and she rubbed her fingers together. She could still feel it.

“Liz,” a voice from the present whispered. She blinked herself free from the replay. Her fellow nurse, Galloway, who had come up with her through school, leaned in close to get her attention. Galloway briefly dated Vic and was crushed by his loss, but didn’t see his head smash against the pavement.

“Liz!” Galloway said again, her eyes darting over Lizzy’s face, sharp with alarm. Galloway’s perpetually dimpled cheeks looked out of place anytime she wasn’t smiling. Like now. Usually, all they did was laugh, even during the hard times, but this was different. Over the past week, Lizzy had hidden behind quips, but the mistakes, missed steps, and delayed reactions were a giveaway. She was struggling.

“Yeah, sorry, must have been off in Wonderland again,” Lizzy said, forcing a silly face as she prepped the bay for the next patient. Galloway scoffed and snatched something from Lizzy’s hand. She motioned for Lizzy to wait until the other nurse left the bay and then pulled her to the corner.

“What is this?” Galloway said, holding up a syringe of Epinephrine.

“Shit! Shit. Did I not administer it?” Lizzy said. Panic tightened her chest. “Was this my fault?” She looked at the patient on the gurney, and a crushing weight made her shoulders ache. Since she was a little girl, caring for her stuffed animals, her lifelong dream had been to heal others. Vic’s too, though she often wondered if he was only doing it to follow her. The thought that she may have just cost someone their life sent her mind spiraling.

“Shhh,” Galloway said, checking to make sure no one heard them. “No, you weren’t supposed to. I administered it already. But I think you were also going to.” Lizzy stared at her blankly as the panic subsided. She still messed up, though.

“I don’t even remember picking it up from the crash cart,” Lizzy said, frowning. She couldn’t even remember reaching for the syringe. There was nothing. The last thing she did remember was hearing the patient’s name: Victor.

“Maybe you should think about taking some time off,” Galloway said, quickly slipping the syringe back into its package on the cart.

“I don’t want to,” Lizzy said. It had been a week, but she was sure that throwing herself into work would fill the hollow void consuming her. Staying home would only push her into it. “I need to keep busy. You’re sure this wasn’t my fault, though?”

“No, of course not,” Galloway said, putting a hand on Lizzy’s arm. She gave it a loving squeeze. “This was just one of those things. He couldn’t be saved. But you need to get your head in the game. You’re gonna lose that nurse of the month award.” Lizzy mustered up another fake smile. She was getting better at it. “Come on,” Galloway continued, winking at her. “I’m sure the rest of the morning’ll be fine. Besides, the new guy was trying to check out your butt again.”

“It’s so big, I don’t know how he could miss it,” Lizzy said, snickering at her friend’s attempt to distract her.

“Right?” Galloway responded and smacked Lizzy’s butt cheek as they went back to work.

Lizzy was walking out of the room when a stabbing pain cut through the inside of her forearm. She examined it but only found the scar left by a dog attack when she was young. She had trauma about that day for years. The large black dog haunted her nightmares and lurked in reality’s shadows. She would gladly welcome it back if it would replace the image of his head on the sidewalk. She would endure anything if it could bring him back.

She massaged the pair of faint circular marks until the pain subsided. It wasn’t unusual for her to feel it during times of high stress. More often than not, when there was a difficult case like the one they just lost.

“Luna!” Dr. Lewis said, motioning for her to join him at the nurses’ station, freshly painted gray. He was their new attending and didn’t appreciate the nurses’ playfulness. Or anything for that matter.

“Girl,” Galloway said under breath. “Don’t let him blame you. Game face.”

Lizzy nodded and did her best Galloway impression. Though another doctor called Dr. Lewis away for a quick consult, his stiff pointer finger commanded her to wait. She imagined replying with her middle finger, but instead stared at the framed Nurse of the Month photo.

It was her. The girl in the picture, with wavy brown hair, freckles, thick eyebrows, and a carefree grin, felt like a stranger to her now. That girl was living the dream—loving life, helping others. Her world now was fracturing, and she couldn’t hold the pieces together.

Lizzy really just needed to sit down and talk to Tita, her 115-year-old great-grandmother. She was the only other person in her life she could really open up to. And she always had all the answers. She wanted to go by and see her earlier in the week, but Tita had been under the weather. They could have at least talked on the phone, except that Tita was deaf.

“Luna!” Lewis said, towering over her. He wasn’t a very tall man, but her height made it easy for him to feel like it. Lizzy took a step back. “This zoning out. This is exactly what I’m talking about.”

“Sorry, boss,” Lizzy said, rubbing her eyes. “It’s been a long night.”

“No, that’s not what this is. You want to tell me what’s going on?”

“I’m just struggling a little, my best friend was hurt…,”

“Dr. Vasquez?” Dr. Lewis said, nodding. “No neurological response, right?”

“Yeah, I mean, the family is still holding out for hope.”

“You too?”

“No, I mean I know the chances are pretty much zero—

“No, they are zero,” Dr. Lewis said, glancing at a notification on his matte black smartwatch. “Don’t get your hopes up believing otherwise. That’ll only make it worse for you. You have an advantage that others don’t. Science. Use it. Don’t get caught up in all the woo-woo.”

“I get it. I know. It’s just hit me hard—I’m good though.”

“Look, I’m not heartless,” Dr. Lewis said, trying to soften his voice. It only came out stiff and rehearsed. “The loss of a friend is tough, but we have a job to do. We can’t have mistakes like what occurred in there.”

Lizzy stared at him, wide-eyed.

“Yeah,” Dr. Lewis said, with parental glare. “You thought I didn’t see you prep a second dose of epi? You know what would have happened, right?”

“I’m…,” Lizzy started to apologize, but caught Galloway watching. “I didn’t give it to him. I picked it up before I saw Nurse Galloway administer it, but I never used it. It didn’t affect the outcome. There’s nothing we could have done to save him.”

“I concur, but what if it had. Hesitation and ‘zoning out’ are unacceptable. I can’t have this in my ER.”

“I won’t let it happen again,” Lizzy said, setting her face with determination. He studied her. They had only worked together for a month, but even he could see the change.

“You can finish out your shift,” Dr. Lewis pronounced, checking his smartwatch again. “But then you’re taking a week off.”

“No, but…,” Lizzy said, but Dr. Lewis had already walked off, shaking his head.

“And Galloway will take the lead the rest of the morning,” he called over his shoulder.

Lizzy balled her hands into fists and closed her eyes. This time, Vic’s intubated body was there to greet her. She could see his mom and sisters gathered around his bed, praying for a miracle. Guilt dug its fingers into her head and twisted her stomach.

The family had invited her to stay, but she had seen the accusations in their eyes. Galloway assured her they weren’t real. It didn’t matter one way or the other—Lizzy knew it was her fault. He had said so. She should have been paying attention. Or she should have been the one hit by the car. Not him.

“Maybe this is a good thing,” Galloway said, suddenly beside her.

Lizzy jumped, wiping at her eyes. She’d lost time again. The same thoughts and images she tried to contain, saving them for moments when she could breathe, had broken loose and flooded her.

“No, we’re short-handed,” Lizzy said. “And now, because of me, we are going to be shorter.”

“Even with you, we’re short,” Galloway said with a raised eyebrow and measuring her height with her hand. Lizzy mimicked a sneer in response and then laughed.

“Maybe you’re right,” Lizzy said. “It’s a good thing. I probably just need to get some sleep. I think that’s all it is, really.”

“You do look tired. Take something and then sleep for a few days. If you want, I’ll come by and check on you.”

“I’m just worried about missing...it. You and I both know he’s gone, but his family is holding out hope. I don’t know how long that’ll last, though. What if they decide to let him go tonight, or tomorrow? I have to stay awake in case they text. I should be there.”

“Listen, I still have his sister’s number. I’ll text her and ask her to let me know when they decide. I’ll come get you when they do.”

Lizzy nodded at Galloway, but before she could thank her, the ambulance bay doors slammed open.

“Vitals: BP 92 over 58,” the EMS driver said, as they wheeled a patient in. He continued in a drone of information, but Lizzy recognized the skinny young Indian woman who accompanied the patient. She had gotten to know Mykayla, who was deaf like Tita, over the past year. She moved in as one of Tita’s tenants in the halfway home she ran out of her own house. Mykayla looked through the bangs of her short boy cut to lock eyes with her, and Lizzy knew. Tita was on that gurney.

Lizzy rushed to meet them as they slid into the trauma bay.

“I don’t know what happened,” Mykayla signed to Lizzy. “I found her lying on the kitchen floor.” Lizzy ignored her and went to Tita’s side.

“Ma’am, can you hear us?” Galloway said as she worked on the IV drip.

“She’s deaf,” Lizzy said as she shook Tita’s shoulder and then massaged her chest. Galloway paused and looked at her patient. It dawned on her as Dr. Lewis entered the bay.

“Your great-grandmother?”

“Yes,” Lizzy said, chin trembling.

“Luna, outside,” Dr. Lewis said in a stern tone.

“No, but it’s…” Lizzy blurted out, tears already choking her.

“Listen to me, I’ve already sidelined you,” Dr Lewis said, stepping between Tita and Lizzy. “This being your relative is even more reason why you need to leave—now!”

Lizzy stumbled back, only able to focus on Tita. She was her favorite. More so than even her dad. Lizzy’s childhood summers were spent either at Tita’s creaky house just outside of downtown Houston or at the cozy beach house in Galveston. Either way, the days were full of adventures, exploring the world around them, and the evenings full of fairy tales. Tita elaborately signed the most amazing stories of a far-off land and its fantastic inhabitants.

“Once in a realm of wonder…,” Tita always started the story. Lizzy would lose track of the story, distracted by her great-grandmother’s expressions. She could have sworn Tita had experienced every castle and mountain. She knew she had to have met the fairy queen and the great magicians of the Realm. Tita would clap her hands to get Lizzy to refocus on them. Afterwards, she would pull out a weathered leather sketchbook she claimed was 100 years old, and illustrate a scene from the story. The book was full of the people, places, and wondrous items that appeared in those stories.

“Get her out of here,” Dr. Lewis barked. She barely felt Galloway’s hands on her shoulders as she guided her out. She was so numb. So helpless. It didn’t feel right.

“It’s gonna be ok, Lizzy,” Galloway assured her, as she lowered her into a chair. “I got you.”

Lizzy nodded absently as Galloway slipped in and closed the curtain. Lizzy gripped the arms of the chair; the world was collapsing in on her. Her heart pounded, and her breath came in short gasps. A tap on her shoulder made Lizzy jump, breaking the free fall into a panic attack.

“Will she be ok?” Mykayla signed. Lizzy might have been able to hold it together, but even Mykayla, usually tough, looked like the world was ending. Lizzy sputtered and buried her face in her hands. Mykayla awkwardly patted Lizzy’s head.

Lizzy jerked her head up at the clatter of a metal tray, gasps, and a hiss from the other side of the curtain.

“Shit!”

“Look out!”

“Where the hell did that come from?”

Lizzy spun in the chair in time to see a snow white cat shoot out from between the curtains. In an instant, it leaped into her lap and pushed up against her chest.

“Fresita!” Lizzy exclaimed as she hugged the cat. The white cat, with a pink heart-shaped tuft of fur on her chest, was a new “friend” of Tita’s. She had told Lizzy that Fresita had wandered into her life one afternoon. Tita and Fresita had been best friends ever since. Lizzy expected a garnish to the story, like a princess trapped in a cat’s body, a dog cursed to be a cat, or a spirit cast out of the Fae realm, but there was nothing more. It had seemed odd to Lizzy at the time, but she assumed later that Tita would have the time to make up a story about her. Now she was afraid there were no more stories to look forward to.

Fresita rubbed her head against Lizzy and then suddenly turned towards Mykayla, as if realizing she was there for the first time. Fresita hissed. She leapt from Lizzy’s lap and sprinted out of the ambulance bay doors as the paramedics left.

“Shit. I’ll get her,” Mykayla signed. “You’ll be OK by yourself?”

Lizzy nodded, and Mykayla gave her an awkward chuck on the shoulder before jogging after the cat.

Lizzy sat heavily in the chair and hugged herself. A cold settled into the ER, feeling unnatural. She hugged herself tighter, but could not warm up. She tried to recall the last story Tita had shared with her. She couldn’t remember anything.

“Hey,” Galloway said, startling Lizzy back to reality. Her friend knelt beside her and squeezed her knee.

“Is she…,” Lizzy struggled to speak.

“They got her back,” Galloway said. Lizzy tried to jump up, but Galloway held on to her knee. “Wait.”

“What is it?”

“Sweetheart, listen,” Galloway said in the tone she reserved for delivering bad news to patients. She pushed some papers into Lizzy’s hands and looked up at her with teary eyes. “She had this in her hands, but we didn’t look at them until we revived her.”

“I need to see her,” Lizzy insisted.

“Lizzy, it’s a DNR.”

“What?” Lizzy was astounded. Her attention turned fully to Galloway. Tita had never mentioned having one; in fact, she had a defiant aversion to any legal or rule-setting paperwork. She grabbed the papers out of Galloway’s hands, trying to read through teary eyes, but Tita’s signature was unmistakable. It was true.

“I don’t understand,” Lizzy mumbled.

“I’m so sorry,” Galloway said. “She’s asking for you.”

Lizzy dropped the paperwork and jumped up. She stepped in as the others filed out of the room. Tita was slightly propped up in the hospital bed, a thin grey blanket swallowing her body, and doing her best to smile at Lizzy.

“Oh, Tita,” Lizzy said, smiling, though the tears streaming down her cheeks betrayed her.

Tita shook her head and weakly tried to sign.

“Don’t, it’s ok,” Lizzy insisted, taking Tita’s timeworn hand into hers. She had always been warm, never frail. Now she was cold and weak. “Save your strength. We’re going to get you into a room and make you all better.”

Tita responded with a firm shake of her head. She nodded to one of the DNR papers that had slid under the curtain when Lizzy dropped them.

“Why?” Lizzy pleaded with her.

“It’s time,” Tita signed slowly.

“No,” Lizzy said, tears rolling down her face. “No, I need you. The women in your house need you.”

“It’s theirs now,” Tita responded with a smile. “They need it more than me.” She closed her eyes and seemed to be gathering her strength to continue. “And soon you will have what you need.”

“No, I don’t. I need you. What am I going to do without your stories? Your drawings?”

“Sweetest cupcake, they were never just stories. They were real. History. Lessons for your future.”

“Well, I didn’t learn anything,” Lizzy signed, sobbing through a brave smile. “So you are going to have to stick around to keep teaching me.”

“My time is over. It’s time to start your own adventure. Realize your dream.”

“I already am,” Lizzy said, rubbing tears from her face. “I’ve got this amazing job. I’ve got you. That’s all I need.”

“There’s more for you. You will heal the world.”

“Maybe someday, but for now, let’s start with you. Please?”

Tita responded with a slow shake of her head. She closed her eyes and gathered a last bit of strength before she continued.

“Do something for me.”

“Anything.”

“Take my Dragonscale ring,” Tita said, barely able to lift her hand from her side. Light glimmered on a patinaed bronze ring cast to resemble overlapping scales. Lizzy blinked through her tears and obediently slipped the ring from Tita’s frail finger. “It will reveal what was hidden. Betela’s Blossom will heal...”

Tita smiled, patted Lizzy’s teary face, and then fell limp.

“Tita!” Lizzy said, cupping her great-grandmother’s face. “Please.”

Tita refocused on Lizzy and offered a sad smile. She cleared her throat and then did something Lizzy rarely heard her do. She spoke.

“Look at the end of the story,” Tita said, so soft Lizzy moved her ear closer. With her final words, she closed her eyes. Her face relaxed. Her chest rose one final time, and then with a slow exhale, Tita was gone.

“NO!” Lizzy cried. “It’s not the end of your story.” She sobbed and buried her face in Tita’s perfumed neck. She clung to her body, but it felt empty.

“Galloway!” Lizzy suddenly sat up and started chest compressions. “Get in here!”

“Lizzy, what are you doing?” Galloway exclaimed as she came into the room.

“Help me!”

“You can’t do this,” Galloway said. She grabbed her friend’s wrist and pulled her away. “It’s not what she wanted.”

“She can’t go,” Lizzy cried.

“I’m so sorry, honey,” Galloway said, wrapping her arms around her friend. Lizzy clung to her, fighting the urge to fall apart. If she started crying now, she wouldn’t be able to stop, so she turned it into anger. She shoved Galloway back and spun around to look through the medicines on a nearby tray. “Hey, Lizzy, please stop.”

“Where’s the epi?” Lizzy said, trying to read the bottles through teary eyes.

“Babe, she’s gone. Let her rest.”

“I should have been in here,” Lizzy shouted and tossed the bottles to the floor. “Why did I just stand there?”

“It was a shock,” Galloway assured her. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Besides, I was here with her. We did everything we could. We got her back.”

Lizzy shook her head. The pressure of the loss surged in her temples and stabbed like knives through her wrists. Galloway went to her and wrapped her arms around her again. Lizzy relaxed for a moment into the embrace, then stiffened.

“Let me sit with her for a little bit,” Lizzy said, pulling away.

“Of course,” Galloway said, but gave her a doubtful look. She pulled a chair to the bedside and sat Lizzy in it. “I’ll be right outside.” Galloway slipped outside but stood just outside the curtain, turning her ear so she could hear.

Lizzy caressed Tita’s arm as she fidgeted with the Dragonscale ring in her hand. She had always admired the beautiful ring. Tita once told the story of a Goblin prince who gifted it to her. He had wanted to impress her with a gift of great power. He claimed it could hide or reveal great secrets. Lizzy had always wanted to try it on, but Tita said it was important that she never take it off.

Lizzy kissed Tita’s hand gently; her skin was still warm and smelled of sweet pine. She rested her cheek against her belly. Lizzy couldn’t imagine a world without her in it. The urge to sob threatened to overwhelm her, but she couldn’t let herself start now. She’d be useless, and she still needed to make sure Tita’s body was taken care of.

She had closed her eyes to imagine Tita’s smile, but a bright light pushed at the darkness of her eyelids. Lizzy jerked up, ready to murder with her eyes, but she was still alone. She rested her head back on Tita’s stomach and closed her eyes again. The light returned, but before she could respond, she winced at a sharp jab in her arm.

She sucked in a sharp breath and stared wide-eyed at her arm. There was a tattoo on her arm, and it was glowing.

A soft purple illuminated a beautiful yet strange design on the inside of her forearm. It was not there before. She had never even had a tattoo, despite her sister’s relentless begging when they were younger. The image stretched from her wrist nearly to the crook of her elbow: a flowing, Nouveau-esque pattern framing a pair of exotic flowers. They looked alien, wrong, and yet something in her chest tightened with recognition.

Her breath came fast. There is no way it was real.

She reached over and touched it. Waves of pain dug into her skin, cresting in a blinding rush, of the memory of a dog’s teeth sinking into the same spot decades earlier.

Lizzy cried out and instinctively looked to Tita for help. Her body was so still. She whimpered as she looked back at her arm. The glow and pain faded, leaving behind only the tattoo-like image on her skin. It was a shade lighter than her light brown skin and almost looked as if Lizzy had fallen asleep on rumpled sheets. Cautious of triggering the pain again, she lightly brushed her finger across the image. Slightly raised lines formed the flowers and vines that grew from them. It was real.

Will we match?

Lizzy suddenly remembered asking the morning after the dog attack. Tita always had a rectangular scar on the inside of her arm that she claimed was from a misadventure early in her life. Lizzy reached for her great-grandmother’s arm but paused. It was as if she were taking an afternoon nap, and little Lizzy was afraid to wake her. Gingerly, Lizzy turned Tita’s arm over and laid her own alongside it. Lizzy gasped.

They were remarkably similar. The size and shape were the same; even the curly scarred ripples in Tita’s skin seemed to mirror the flow of the vines and leaves now adorning Lizzy’s arm. She shook her head, struggling to make sense of it. There were medical…scientific explanations for a scar to reactivate, but not like this. Nothing could explain the vivid design or the glow. It was unearthly. Magical.

The design glowed brighter, and Lizzy felt warmth seep from her arm to Tita’s. She jerked back and watched as the Tita’s scar smoothed out and faded until only unadulterated skin remained. Lizzy shot up, sending her chair scooting noisily across the floor. Galloway rushed in.

“Liz, are you ok?” Galloway said, studying Lizzy’s bewildered expression. “Lizzy?”

“Look at this,” Lizzy said, shoving her arm in front of the nurse.

The nurse stared at her arm for a moment, then back at Lizzy, confused.

“The tattoo…it just appeared there…and then her scar disappeared.” Lizzy shook her arm in front of the nurse and then pointed to where Tita’s scar had been. “I’ve never had a tattoo before. You know that, right? You’ve seen my arm before.”

“I don’t understand,” Galloway said with a concerned look. “What tattoo?” She looked again at Lizzy’s arm and then spotted the faint marks from the dog attack. “Do you mean those? The scar from the dog attack?”

“What? No! The design…the flowers.”

Lizzy shoved her arm closer to her friend’s face and scowled at her.

“Dr. Lewis, could you come in here…,” Galloway said, turning her head slightly to one side but keeping worried eyes on Lizzy. “Lizzy, sit down. You’re going to need some time to recover; you’re just overwhelmed right now.”

“What are you talking about?” Lizzy said as Galloway tried to make her sit back down. “Being overwhelmed doesn’t make this happen. Tattoos just don’t magically appear, Galloway. What’s happening to me?”

“I just think that emotional trauma can affect us in strange ways. You know, make us see things that aren’t there.”

“What are you saying?” Lizzy stammered. “You can’t see it? How can you not see it? Here touch it.” Lizzy grabbed her friend’s fingers and ran them over her arm. Galloway shook her head apologetically.

“Yeah…,” Dr. Lewis mumbled as he stuck his head in.

“Give me a second,” Galloway said softly to Lizzy and stepped outside with Dr. Lewis. Lizzy could hear them whispering, but was intently focused on her arm. She ran her fingers over the design, feeling the raised lines, and shook her head.

“It can’t be a hallucination,” Lizzy mumbled. She was still staring at her arm when Dr. Lewis came in. He gave her a sympathetic glance and then examined her arm, turning it over and running his hand over the skin. It was apparent he couldn’t find any trace of the supposed tattoo.

“Hey, so why don’t we get you some water and maybe a snack. Something sweet?” Dr. Lewis looked over his shoulder at Galloway, and she nodded.

Lizzy started to protest, but thought better of it.

“I’m sorry,” Lizzy said, trying to prevent Psyche from being called. She just wanted to go home. Figure things out. “I’m really overwhelmed.”

“It’s ok to feel that way,” Dr Lewis said. He never spoke this way to them, only to a patient’s family members. It felt so fake. “You’re just going to need some time, ok?”

Lizzy nodded, still focused on her arm. He placed his hand over the area, and she refocused on him.

“Is there someone we can call to come be with you?”

“No, I’ll let my family know soon,” Lizzy said.

Galloway returned with a paper cup of water and a small cake. The doctor motioned for her to leave the trauma bay, and Lizzy gave Tita’s arm a final touch before following her co-workers to the break room.

Lizzy guzzled the water and took a bite of the cake.

“What can I do for you?” Galloway said. Lizzy shrugged in response.

“We got a couple of buses coming in,” another nurse said, poking her head quickly.

“I’ve gotta go,” Galloway said, trying to meet Lizzy’s eyes. “Are you going to be ok?”

Lizzy nodded. Galloway gave her arm a quick squeeze before hurrying out.

Lizzy was alone. She felt empty but not numb. A noisy buzz filled her ears and prickled across her skin. There was one part of her that was calm now—her arm. She stared at it. The tattoo didn’t make sense. It looked as if it had always been there, always a part of her. She rested her palm on it; warmth radiated into her hand. It comforted her, reaching into her soul like a hug from Tita.

Her eyes burned. She closed them, reluctantly, afraid of what memory would be waiting for her. Instead, there was only a peaceful darkness. Outside of the break room, a chaotic buzz of urgent voices relayed information and treatments. For years, this had been her home, her dream. Now it was stained by two nightmares. It hurt to be here.

Long ago, she had sat in this very break room after her first shift, exhausted but happy. She had finally made it. Back then, she had closed her eyes and thought back to the moment she decided to heal the world. It was on the beach with Vic and her sister.

The ocean breeze whipped away the afternoon heat as the Gulf swallowed up the sun. Dry grass whipped around them atop the small dune they sat on. A few years earlier, the dog attack had taken place not far from there, but she felt safe with Ashley and Vic by her side.

They chatted about the day. It was almost tragic. They had been eating chips on the beach when Vic began choking. A passing nurse jumped into action and saved his life. As kids do, he laughed it off, but it stuck with Lizzy.

“I’ve decided I’m going to be a nurse,” Lizzy declared, as she examined a blue pebble they found in the sand.

“That’s a whole lot of studying,” her sister had scoffed. “You hate reading.”

“Yeah, but think of all the people I could save just like that nurse today. I’ll study a lot and then save everybody! The whole world!” Lizzy beamed proudly.

“You can’t just do that,” Ashley said, staring at the ocean. Lizzy bent one corner of her mouth in an annoyed frown at Ashley’s lack of enthusiasm.

“I’ll help you study,” Vic assured Lizzy.

“What? You’re going to be a nurse too?” Ashley said, mocking him. “Nurse Vic! Nurse Vic.”

“He can be a nurse if he wants,” Lizzy said, passing the pebble to Vic. “Or even a doctor.”

“Yeah,” he said, passing the blue pebble back to Lizzy with a grin. That grin. She so wanted to see it again.

She cupped the pebble in the palm of her hand. Tita had once told her the faerie queen whispered to colorful stones she came across in a meadow. They became her children. Lizzy hoped if she told this one her dream, it would one day turn into a fairy and grant her wish.

“I’m going to heal the world,” she whispered into it. “We are going to heal the world,” Lizzy said louder this time and then leaned forward to look at her sister. “Yeah?”

“Sure,” Ashley said, and shrugged.

“Yes!” Vic said excitedly and hugged Lizzy. Ashley rolled her eyes at them, but then Lizzy saw something past her. She shivered. A large black dog was watching from a nearby dune.

A rough snort brought her back to reality. She looked up and found the memory had escaped from her mind. A massive black dog, almost pony-sized, stood in the doorway watching her.

Lizzy choked on a scream as she lurched backward, crashing into a cart behind her. With glowing purple eyes, the beast remained still, hunched forward slightly, an expectant guillotine waiting to be loosed. Fresh blood splattered onto the floor, dripping from thick, curling horns that crowned its head. There was nowhere to run to.

Her arm began to burn as if someone was pressing a hot iron against it. She cradled it as the tattoo glowed again, this time brighter than before. The monster took a step towards her and crouched, as if ready to pounce. She squeezed her eyes shut.

A touch on her elbow made her slam her head back against the cabinets, scream, and instinctively swipe her hand at her attacker. She didn’t remember putting the Dragonscale ring on her finger, but it was there, and it tore against flesh. Lizzy opened her eyes, but it wasn’t the monster.

“Fuck!” Galloway exclaimed, cradling her face. Blood dripped from a gash across her cheek. Lizzy’s shoulders ached. She couldn’t take anything more.

“What happened?” Dr. Lewis demanded as she stormed in.

“I’m fine,” Galloway insisted, and grabbed some gauze from the table. “It was my fault.” Lizzy could only stare wide-eyed at what she had done.

“That’s it,” Dr. Lewis said, “You need to leave. Immediately.”

“Tita—

“You’ll have to have another family member make arrangements for her. We will take care of her for you, but you can not stay here. You’re a time bomb just waiting to go off.”

Lizzy was at her breaking point. She had to be alone. She grabbed her things and ran out of the ER, shoving past Mykayla, who had just come in the door holding Fresita.

Chapter 2

Lizzy slammed her apartment door shut. She pressed her back against it, straining as if she could prevent reality from overtaking her by force alone.

She banged the back of her head against the metal surface of the door a couple of times. Her mind was a mess. Numb but overwhelmed; exhausted but racing. She opened her mouth in a silent scream and pounded her fists against the door.

They’re both gone!

Her legs trembled violently until they finally gave out. She slid down, crumpled onto her side, and wailed. Lizzy needed, she needed, at least one of them in her life. She ached to feel their embrace or hear their voice.

His grin.

She clawed at the seams of the floor, pulling until the pain in her fingers was greater than what was inside her. Even then, it was only a flickering distraction. She curled in on herself and rocked. The gouged hollow expanding inside her was unbearable, a pain deeper than anything she’d ever known.

Lizzy lay there and wept for hours. When she could form coherent thoughts again, the conclusion came quickly: Tita’s death was her fault as well. If she had been paying attention, Vic would still be there. If she hadn’t been in a daze because of him, she would have been able to help save Tita. If nothing else, she might have seen the DNR papers and trashed them before anyone else noticed.

The realization made her stomach turn. She staggered to the bathroom and vomited until she was dry heaving. Too weak to even cling to the toilet, she crawled to her bed, pulled herself onto it, and passed out.

Her dreams were of the week before, when she and Vic had raced to the side of a heart attack victim, just collapsed off the sidewalk. Like the perfect team, they worked tirelessly until they got him back. She had held her arms up in victory and taken a step back. She didn’t see the car; the driver didn’t see her.

He did.

He swung her towards the safety of the sidewalk, but his momentum sent him straight at the car. Lizzy had turned to scold him for yanking her around and caught the moment his head bounced with a violent jerk onto the pavement.

In the dream, her perspective shifted; now she was watching herself from afar. She tried so hard to save him. Lizzy already knew the outcome but prayed it would be different this time. She pumped his chest until her arms were trembling, breathed into his mouth until her lungs burned, and then he came back—but only partially. Unable to open his eyes and barely breathing, he mumbled. Lizzy watched her past self lean in to listen, but clamped her hands over her own ears. Even so, his blame found its way in.

“It’s all your fault…”

She spent night after night stuck in the nightmare, and every morning ruminating on his words. They tortured her, and Tita’s words confused her. The tattoo only made things worse. It glared at her, a sacred mystery profaned by a painful reality. She even resorted to an attempt at scrubbing it away with bleach; it only turned her skin red and itchy. It was no figment of her imagination, and it was there to stay.

For the next few weeks, though it seemed like months, she confined herself to the crushed-eggshell-colored walls of her apartment, keeping her mind occupied with trash TV or doomscrolling. She kept her tattoo covered. It drove her crazy trying to figure out how it suddenly appeared, like magic. She barely ate and most days didn’t even get out of bed. Sometimes she slept all day, and other times she stayed awake all night. At night, though, she kept all the lights on. Lizzy didn’t want the monster to return, even if it was just in her head.

However, she was startled by an animal. A few times, she thought she saw a white cat peeking through the sliding glass door of her balcony. She wondered if somehow it was Fresita, though she had never even been to her apartment.

As the days dragged on, Lizzy sank further into her guilt and solitude. There was no returning to her job. Even if she had wanted to, Dr. Lewis had filed a report with hospital administration. She’d have to go through weeks of counseling and review before she was even considered to be fit to return to duty. Besides, she couldn’t face Galloway; she’d hurt her. What if she hurt someone else? She couldn’t risk it. She didn’t want to heal the world anymore.

Lizzy hadn’t heard anything about a funeral or any final word regarding him. She scrolled through her messages, there were so many, for any concerning either of them. On her way home that morning weeks ago, she had called her mother to let her know about Tita. Lizzy’s mother sounded saddened enough to be polite. When she found out, however, that she would have to handle funeral arrangements herself, she was pissed. Her mother never got along with her dad’s side of the family, and with Tita, things had always been especially frigid.

She archived friends’ messages and scanned through Galloway’s wall of texts, forgiving her, but found nothing about him. Finally, she found a message from his mom asking her to visit him. They were still praying for a miracle. Guilt sat like a stone in her stomach. She couldn’t bring herself to respond.

There was nothing about Tita, though, not even from her mother. Reluctantly, she called her to ask about Tita’s funeral.

“Well, I didn’t think anybody would come,” her mother explained, very plainly. “Your sister won’t be back in the states until next week, and you haven’t even asked or offered to help set anything up.”

“Mom,” Lizzy said, frustration sharpening her tone. “Are you serious right now?”

“And just who’s going to come? Tell me.”

Lizzy was silent, more dumbfounded than clueless.

Impatient, her mother snapped in that tone of hers. “Hurry up.”

“The women at her house would,” Lizzy finally said. “They loved her.”

“Yes, yes, they’ve already contacted me. They didn’t offer to help either.”

Lizzy breathed out sharply. “It’s not their responsibility, it’s ours, mother.”

“Exactly. Ours.”

Lizzy ground her teeth, trying not to blow up. Tita had done so much for her mom when her dad passed away. Tita even loaned them money months later, when her mother fell behind on the mortgage.

After a moment of Lizzy’s seething, her mother cleared her throat and continued.

“Besides, it doesn’t matter now anyway. I had her buried next to your father a few days ago, AND before you hang up…” Her mother paused to make sure Lizzy was still there. “Those women are having a party for her next week. I’ll forward you the e-vite. I just thought you’d like to know. I’m not going but—

Lizzy hung up. She forced herself not to throw her phone against the wall and grabbed a pillow instead. She screamed into it, then threw it against the wall. She fell into her love seat, balling her hands into fists so tight they shook, and her heart pounded against her throat. She shouldn’t be surprised. Her mother always found a way to get revenge against anyone she thought had wronged her. This was her final chance to get back at Tita for whatever it was she thought she was owed. It was also her way of punishing Lizzy for leaving it up to her in the first place.

Lizzy let her frustration with her mom fill her headspace only for a little while. She didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of being focused on her. For a moment, Lizzy considered skipping the party, but she owed it to Tita. She would make an appearance and leave as soon as possible.

The evening of the party, Lizzy shivered outside the fence of the old sun-bleached white three-story house near the Third Ward. It was late in the year, so the weather had finally begun to cool. The smell of grilled meat hung in the air, mixing with the hum of conversation and laughing. The place looked pretty much the same as it had for Lizzy’s entire life. It was a solid building, in need of a little TLC. Loose boards. Flaking paint.

Even the decent-sized yard was overgrown in places, but there was no trash, just trees. Large ancient trees, somehow always lush with leaves. Even the Texas oven of a summer never seemed to brown them. When she was little, Lizzy would climb them, forever on the hunt for fairies. Stepping through the front gate always lifted her spirits and filled her with the anxious excitement of a new adventure.

Now, Lizzy backed away from the gate, massaging a tightness building in her chest. The only stories that remained here were painful reminders. And yet with swaying strands of lights looping from the second story to the trees, the house stubbornly retained its magical aura. A breeze danced across the leaves like a soft brush sweep under a melody. Somewhere in there, it was as if she could almost catch her name being whispered by Tita.

An overzealous burst of laughter broke the spell. Lizzy turned away and walked the length of the fence, her eyes sweeping the crowd. She was surprised by the number of people here. As she understood it, only five women had been staying at Tita’s house. She didn’t think Tita had been out much in her final years, or that she still had so many friends. She had outlived so many by decades. The few dozen faces here were unfamiliar to Lizzy. While some were comfortable in jeans and t-shirts, others looked as if they had dressed anticipating a state dinner.

One woman in particular caught Lizzy’s eye, an effortlessly regal figure in a black flared dress. She was about Lizzy’s age, yet a relaxed maturity twice her age eased her face. Her dark hair swept back and up against her head in a stately French Twist, and a dusting of freckles sprinkled across her face. Her eyes danced across her surroundings, absorbing the world with curiosity. People around her noticed her, not because she demanded it but because they couldn’t look away.

As the woman waved a greeting to another visitor, a dark Dragonscale ring was visible on her finger. Lizzy looked down at her own hand, realizing she had forgotten to put Tita’s on.

“Hey,” Mykayla signed, appearing beside her suddenly. Lizzy jumped and then frowned.

“Shit, you scared me,” Lizzy replied outloud and then repeated it in sign.

“Sorry,” Mykayla said, and then paused awkwardly. Mykayla, almost always in baggy jeans and a tank top, squirmed in her freshly pressed chinos and a button-down short-sleeve shirt. “I was hoping you’d come. We weren’t sure whether your mom told you. She’s kind of a bitch.”

“Not kind of.”

Mykayla smirked, but let it fade when Lizzy didn’t smile. “So…are you coming in?”

“I don’t know. Maybe not.”

“That’s cool. I can hang out with you out here if you want,” Mykayla said, and started to take a drink of the beer bottle she was holding, but paused. “Want a beer?”

“No, I’m good. I was thinking about going back home anyway,” Lizzy said. She twisted the side of her mouth up anxiously. “I thought I could do this, but I don’t think I’m ready yet.”

“Oh yeah,” Mykayla said, nodding and trying to hide her disappointment. “I understand. Losing two people so close together is shit. It’s like your whole world is put through a meat grinder.”

Lizzy flashed her a comforting look. “I remember you telling me about your parents…wait, how did you know about him?”

“Tita told me the night before she passed. She said she was worried about you because he was your best friend.”

“But I never got to tell her,” Lizzy said, frowning. “I was going to come over and talk to her, but she was sick the day I called.”

“I don’t know how she found out, but I do know she kept an eye on you. Especially lately.”

“Kept an eye on me? Like she was having me followed or what?”

“Oh, I…,” Mykayla said, studying her beer bottle. “I don’t know. That’s just what she said. I’m sure she wanted to make sure you were safe or something.”

“Safe from what?” Lizzy asked, but Mykayla only shrugged and took a long drink.

“Huh,” Lizzy said, and frowned. Nothing really made sense anymore anyway, so why should this? She stared up at the attic windows. Tita had made that space her room for the last few years of her life. She claimed it felt safer to be up high, where she looked out on the world. Maybe she was just paranoid in her old age.

“Also, the fairies love high places,” Tita had told her once. “It makes them feel taller.”

As if reading her mind, out of the corner of her eye, Lizzy thought she caught a glimpse of glittering lights zipping around the yard. She snapped her head around, but there was nothing there.

“Did you see that?” Lizzy asked.

“See what?”

“Little lights flying around the yard. They looked like…fireflies or something.”

“Nope,” Mykayla responded, but acted nervous again. Lizzy shrugged, deciding it was more than likely just a passing car’s lights. They were quiet for a while, watching the guests, and Mykayla drank her beer.

“Did Tita say anything?” Lizzy finally said. “That morning, did she say anything to you?”

“No, when I woke up and came downstairs, she was already unconscious on the kitchen floor.”

“Ok.”

“Did you…” Mykayla said, hesitantly afraid to upset Lizzy. “Were you able to talk to her before she passed?”

“Yeah,” Lizzy said. That morning flashed in front of her. Her stomach twisted as if someone had wrapped their hand around it. Her chest rose in quick, unfulfilling breaths. Lizzy dug her nails into the fence as she tried not to slip into a panic attack.

Seeing her discomfort, Mykayla offered her beer. Lizzy grabbed it and guzzled what was left. She hated the taste of beer. Even the fancy craft beers he tried to get her into one time. This time, the bitter taste served as a welcome shock, derailing the coming attack. She shivered and handed the empty bottle back to Mykayla.

“Thanks,” Lizzy said.

“I’m gonna grab another one. You sure you don’t want one?”

“Actually, sure I’ll take one,” Lizzy said. She hoped that, if nothing else, it would help her through the evening.

While Mykayla was gone, Lizzy went back to people watching and found a pair of faces she recognized. Martin and his sister Imelda. While she was here, Tita had put them in charge of running the house. They were good to the women who stayed here, but eternally suspicious of visitors, including Lizzy. Martin waved, but his sister scowled. Lizzy quickly looked away, pretending not to see either one.

She locked eyes with a gentleman in business slacks and a thin wool sweater. He was bigger than almost everyone else here. Not just tall but muscular, though with a touch of a dad bod hiding many of the muscles. He had a weather-sculpted Nordic look and striking honey-colored eyes. More than anything, however, his face held her attention. It was an easy-going, happy face. It was the kind of face he had. However, this man had a bold but well-groomed beard. For a moment, he acted like he was going to head over, but an equally tall blonde woman approached him, and they began talking.

Lizzy was relieved. The man looked back over to her, but Lizzy had spotted Fresita. The white cat trotted over, pounced onto the fence, and sat in front of Lizzy. She tilted her head with an analytical gaze.

“Are you the one hanging out on my balcony?” Lizzy asked. She reached out to pet her, but Fresita leaned out of reach. “I was just trying to be nice.” Lizzy stuck out her tongue at the cat, who responded with an annoyed swish of her tail.

“Hey, you found the cat,” Mykayla said, as she hurried back over to Lizzy. “She keeps running away, so I gave up going after her. She always comes back anyway.”

“Maybe I’m crazy, but…,” Lizzy said, trying to pet Fresita again. It didn’t happen. “…I think she has been showing up at my apartment.”

“Could be,” Mykayla said, handing Lizzy a beer. “By the way, what does her name mean?”

“Tita called her that because of the shape of her pink hair.”

“A heart.”

“See,” Lizzy said, her mouth hinting at a long forgotten smile. “That’s exactly what I told Tita, but she insisted it looked like a strawberry to her. Fresita is ‘little strawberry’ in Spanish, but it can also mean something like ‘posh’ or ‘stuck up.’ And I think that fits the cat perfectly.” Lizzy made a face at Fresita, who turned her back to the women and began grooming herself.

Lizzy took a long drink of beer and made a surprised face. It tasted really good. Slightly sweet, like honey. She examined the bottle but found no label. She assumed it was someone’s homebrew. After a few more sips, though, Lizzy felt some of her tension ease.

A barking dog somewhere in the neighborhood startled Lizzy. Suddenly, she remembered they had been talking about Tita’s last words, and it finally dawned on her where she had heard them before.

“Betela’s Blossom,” Lizzy said suddenly, surprising Mykayla. “Have you ever heard of that?”

“I don’t think so,” Mykayla answered. She glanced around, as if checking to see if anybody had heard Lizzy. “What is it?”

“They were Tita’s last words,” Lizzy said. “I just remembered where I heard them before. When I was little, I was attacked by this gigantic dog.”

“Oh shit.”

“Yeah, it bit me,” Lizzy said, stopping short of showing Mykayla the scar, where the tattoo had now replaced it. Instead, she only patted her sleeve. “Anyway, when I was recovering, I asked her to tell me a story about my fairy doll, Maeve. Her adventures were my favorites. Instead, she said she had a new story to tell me. It was about an Elf girl who used a magic sword to heal people. I’m pretty sure her name was Betela, but I can’t really remember. I wish I had Tita’s old sketchbook. She always drew pictures to go with the stories. I’m sure there’d be more about it there.”

“And this was a story Tita told you?”

“Yeah, Tita told me fairy tales all the time,” Lizzy replied.

“A fairy tale!” A ruddy voice exclaimed from Mykayla’s side of the fence. Startled, Lizzy peered over to find a rotund, bearded man about an inch shorter than the fence. He pointed and shook his beer at Lizzy as he continued. “Betela’s Blossom? No. That is history, spoken and sworn. And it is not to be taken lightly.”

Lizzy wasn’t sure how to respond. Mykayla, however, kicked his foot and Fresita hissed. He looked at them angrily, but his eyes widened as Mykayla mouthed something to him. To Lizzy, it looked like she said ‘Dull,’ but she couldn’t be sure.

“Crap!” the man bellowed.

“What’s wrong?” Lizzy asked.

“It’s nothing,” the man said, but struggled as if trying to hold back. Finally, he added, “I was cursed always to speak the truth.”

“Cursed?” Lizzy said, making a face. “What do you mean?”

“A goblin witch laid a curse on me for selling her produce past its time at the Night Camp,” the man blurted out all at once before clapping his hand over his mouth. He gave the women a stiff bow, then hurried to the back of the house.

“What did he say?” Lizzy asked, her mouth twisting into a frown. Her stomach twisted. Had Tita been telling others her stories? She should have made an effort to visit her more often.

“I don’t know, he was blabbering too fast for me to read his lips,” Mykayla said. “Probably just some weirdo Tita knew. Have another drink.”

Lizzy took a sip and leaned against the fence to people-watch. While most of the guests were on the younger side, closer to her age, more than a few looked much older. Several different languages were being spoken as well, most of which she had never heard before. She so wished she could sit here with Tita and listen to her tell stories of how she met each of them. She took a longer drink.

“So, we’re drinking our sorrows away now, are we?” a familiar voice chided from the shadows down the sidewalk. The figure stepped into the light, revealing a frosted blonde-haired woman with impeccable makeup. Lizzy turned and immediately hurried to her. It was her sister, Ashley.

“They’re gone!” Lizzy sobbed, throwing herself into Ashley’s arms.

“It’s ok,” Ashley cooed, hugging and rocking her sister. “I’m so sorry.”

Ashley took after their mother more than Lizzy did, but was never quite as harsh. She had kept her distance from Tita but was never cold towards her. Tita, on the other hand, always seemed to regard Ashley with pity, though Lizzy never understood why.

When they were young, the sisters were thick as thieves, exploring the world together, but something changed in Ashley. She became obsessed with school, spending all her time studying, and later moving to England to attend university. She rarely visited.

“It’s my fault,” Lizzy whispered her confession to Ashley.

“What do you mean?”

“I wasn’t looking. The car was supposed to hit me,” Lizzy sobbed. “And then I was sooo wrapped up in him that I froze up when Tita came into the ER. I couldn’t save her.” Lizzy clung to her sister, afraid of being swept away by her own tears.

“Everything will be ok, Lizzy,” Ashley said, hugging her tighter for a moment. She flashed Mykayla a sympathetic smile. Fresita hopped down from the fence and rubbed up against Lizzy’s leg, but Ashley silently shooed her away. She was more of a dog person. After letting Lizzy cry for a bit, she pushed her back, and holding her shoulders made Lizzy compose herself.

“That’s enough,” Ashley said firmly. “You know that isn’t true. None of this is on you. It’s just life.”

Lizzy didn’t respond, but did wipe her tears away.

Ashley continued. “It’s just life, and sometimes life is very unfair. But we do our best to carry on.”

Lizzy noticed they had garnered a pity-faced audience and pulled herself together. She nodded and then chuckled.

“You sound like one of those signs where you live. ‘Keep calm, and carry on.’”

Ashley let out an amused laugh as she looked down at her cream-colored wool coat. Lizzy had left a trail of tears along the lapel.

Reaching into her leather purse, Ashley pulled out a handkerchief. “Oh,” she said as she unfolded it. “I brought this for you. I think you should have it.”

From the folds of the cloth, she drew out a silver necklace set with a blue stone—the same one they had found on the beach years ago. Lizzy’s eyes filled with tears all over again.

“No… are you sure?” Lizzy asked. Ashley stared at the necklace for a long moment. “He gave that to you.”

“Yes,” Ashley said softly. “But it has more meaning to you.”

She stepped behind Lizzy and fastened the necklace around her neck. Lizzy touched the stone and took a steadying breath.

“Thank you, sister,” she said, pulling Ashley into a hug.

Ashley laughed and gently pulled away, trying unsuccessfully to wipe Lizzy’s tears on her coat.

Noticing Mykayla couldn’t take her eyes off her sister, Lizzy waved her hand in front of her face.

“Stop gawking,” Lizzy signed and then continued out loud. “Ashley, this is my friend Mykayla.” Ashley offered a large smile as she extended her hand.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Ashley said, as Mykayla readily took her hand and gave it a quick shake.

“The pleasure’s mine,” Mykayla said, her voice low and resonant, unmistakably feminine. Like Tita, she had lost her hearing as she grew older, so she could still speak aloud when she wanted to. Lizzy loved to hear it; its low richness was unique.

“Well,” Ashley said, fluttering her eyelids at Mykayla. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to clean your friend’s snot off the front of my outfit.” Ashley flashed Lizzy a faux mean look. “I’ll be right back.”

“She’s freakin’ gorgeous, Liz,” Mykayla signed, watching Ashley stride towards the house.

“Uh-huh,” Lizzy replied, with a laugh. She sniffled a few times and tried to clean the mess she had made of herself. She felt a little better, but at the same time, guilty. It wasn’t right for her to be having fun after everything that had happened. She took another drink of her beer.

Mykayla motioned for her to come inside the fence, and Lizzy finally relented. They sat in a pair of metal lawn chairs in front of a small bonfire that Lizzy stared into. A couple of the women who lived in the house came over and offered their sympathies before drifting off again. The alcohol was cushioning Lizzy’s system nicely. The guilt didn’t feel quite as harsh.

“I’ll have to come over and go through her stuff sometime,” Lizzy said, turning in her chair to look up at the attic windows. “She kept everything. The sketchbook has to be up there somewhere.”

“Yeah, but you’ll have to take a few days off work, there’s A LOT.”

Lizzy shrugged. She already knew she wasn’t going back to work, so that wouldn’t be a problem. She suddenly wondered what she was going to do instead. She had at least a month or two of vacation time and sick leave, and after that, a good chunk of savings.

“Maybe I could be a coffee influencer,” Lizzy mumbled, fiddling with the blue stone around her neck.

“A what?” Mykayla signed, motioning towards her mouth. Lizzy hadn’t realized she had said anything out loud.

“Sorry, I was just trying to figure out what I’m going to do now. I was thinking how much I love coffee. I could make videos about coffee shops and roasteries. I’m not as gorgeous as my sister, but I’m pretty funny.”

“But you’re a nurse,” Mykayla said, confused.

“Nah, not anymore. That part of my life is gone,” Lizzy said, and then in a loud voice added: “The dream is over!” She took another long drink.

“Maybe you could just take a break for a while? Tita always said you were an amazing nurse. She said you had a big future ahead of you.”

“Ha! If I’m such a good nurse, then why did I let her die?”

“Come on, she was over a hundred years old. It was just her time.”

“Don’t say that!” Lizzy shouted, bolting up from her chair and throwing her bottle in her friend’s direction. The bottle thudded onto the ground, but Mykayla flinched as a bit of the beer splashed on her arm. “The next person that says that it ‘was just her time’ is going to…I’m going to…” Lizzy stopped.

Mykayla and the others nearby looked horrified.

“Liz…,” Ashley said, as she hurried back from the house. “Come on, let’s not make a scene.” She tried to guide her back into the chair, but Lizzy jerked her arm away.

“Get off of me,” Lizzy demanded. She looked at the group of people nearby staring at them. Their looks quickly melted into pity, making Lizzy even angrier.

“What are all of y’all even doing here? Did you even know Tita? Did she ever tell you stories or draw you pictures? No! She was my great-grandmother, not yours!” Lizzy kicked over her chair and then stormed off to the back of the house.

The backyard had the same string of lights running overhead, but the grass was a little wilder, so there were fewer guests. Further away from the house, a small clearing had been mowed down, and in it sat a shiny cherry red motorcycle with parts scattered around it. Mykayla repaired bikes for a living. Her own, a ratty brown Indian chief, leaned against the house. Tita had given it to keep if she could get it running. She swears she used to ride it everywhere.

Lizzy saw a stump; she hadn’t even realized there had been a tree there, and plopped down beside it. The stump leaned to one side, revealing it wasn’t a stump at all but the ‘weirdo’ from before. He looked at Lizzy wide-eyed.

“Shit, sorry, I thought you were something else,” Lizzy said. The man nodded and tried to get up to leave, but Lizzy tugged on his arm. “Please don’t go. I miss my great-grandmother.”

“Oh,” the man said and then gave her a warm smile. “You’re Jules’ family.”

“Who?”

“Jules?” the man said. He looked genuinely confused. “This was her house.”

“Her name was Tita. Well…at least to my family it was. It’s from Julita,” Lizzy rambled and then paused. “Oh! Julita…Jules. Got it.”

The man chuckled and nodded.

“Yes, I’m sure that’s what it was. Most of us knew her as Jules. Small in stature, she was great in spirit, and she lived a good life.”

“Yep, I know,” Lizzy nodded. “She told me the stories. Fairy tales to me, but maybe not to you. Hey, what’s your name anyway?”

“Gairloch, but my friends just call me Gair.”

“Ok, Gary it is,” Lizzy said, clinking her bottle to his before taking another swig. “I’m Elizabeth, but my friends call me Lizzy. I had this one friend, my best friend…but he died. My fault. And when we were kids, he called me Liz-ard. Get it? Lizzy…Lizard? It was a joke between us. Between friends.”

“And how many of those do you think your bones can still carry?” he asked, pointing at her beer, amused.

“The drink?” Lizzy said, staring at the bottle. A warm, airy feeling completely masked the guilt now. “I don’t know. Three?”

“Tread lightly. Honey mead holds old strength, and it does not spare the inexperienced.”

“Oh, I’m definitely inexperienced. In-ex-perienced.” Lizzy repeated herself a few times. The words sounded funny, and her tongue was numb. She suddenly remembered what he said before and leaned closer to him. “Your curse. You have to ALWAYS tell the truth?”

“Er…well, yes,” Gairloch said, starting to stand up.

“Wait!” Lizzy demanded, with a tight squeeze to his arm.

“I really couldn’t.”

“Of course you can. My Tita would have wanted you to. Do it for her. For Jules.”

Gairloch relented and settled back in. Lizzy smiled triumphantly and patted his arm.

“Thanks, you’re the best, Gary.”

“It won’t matter much, I reckon,” Gairloch said. “With that much honey mead in you, the words we’ve shared will likely drift off before dawn.”

“Maybe,” Lizzy said, putting her arm around his shoulder. “But I tell you what I remember now. You said Betela’s Blossom wasn’t a fairy tale.”

“That I did.”

“I only ever heard it as a story, but you claim it’s not. Tell me what you know.”

“It’s a story for sure. Everything becomes a story once the sun sets on it,” Gairloch said, and paused to look at Lizzy. She stared back, making her eyes exaggeratedly wide so he would be sure she was paying attention. He chuckled and continued. “This one took place many sunsets ago. There was a plague that swept across the once great race of the elves. A small elvish girl discovered a Bright Sword with healing magic. She used it to heal her people and became known as Lady Betela.”

Lizzy narrowed her eyes. The story sounded so familiar.

“Wow…,” Lizzy hummed and then snorted. “You’re really not a great storyteller.” Gairloch chuckled and took a long drink from his bottle. “So, what about Betela’s Blossom? What is that?”

“It’s a necklace, wrought from a shard of the sword,” he said. “From what I’ve heard, the piece remembers the whole. Carry it long enough, and it will draw you to the blade. The sword itself was lost to time.”

“Huh.” Lizzy glanced up, but the stars had begun a slow, drunken spin. She closed her eyes, steadying herself before the nausea could catch up. “And with the sword… you could cure diseases?”

“It can heal anything. At least, that is what I was told.”

Lizzy opened her eyes. “Anything?”

He hesitated. “I cannot say for certain. But… nearly anything.”

Lizzy swallowed, the shape of a thought taking hold. “How severe an injury could it repair?”

“I’m sorry, I haven’t a clue,” Gairloch chuckled. “But I do know it is powerful. Very powerful.”

“So, how do I find this blossom necklace thing?”

Gairloch shook his head slowly.

“People far smarter than me have spent lifetimes searching for it. I would not even know where to tell you to begin.”

“But you have to,” Lizzy said, her voice breaking as she began to cry. “You have to tell the truth, remember? And I have to heal the world. I have to fix what I’ve done because it’s because of me that they’re gone. I have to bring them back. I can’t live without them.” She fell into sobs and buried her face in her knees.

“Easy now,” Gairloch murmured, patting her back. “I’ve no more truth to give you than that. It’s old elven knowledge; few remain to remember it. Still, Café Calacoayan is a fair place to begin. Last I heard, they even keep a replica of what you’re chasing.”

“café Cala-what?” Lizzy said, popping back up, her face blotched and tear-streaked.

“Calacoayn.”

“Where is that at?”

“I’m sorry, not even the curse can make me go against the rules of the Realms. If I had an invitation to give, I would gladly help you out.”

“What does that even mean? How am I supposed to find this café?

Gairloch shook his head sadly and stood up.

“No!” Lizzy exclaimed, slammed her head onto her knees again, and cried.

“Ok, ok, listen…,” Gairloch fidgeted with his hand a moment before he continued. “I can not believe I’m doing this.”

“Please help me, Gary,” Lizzy said, giving him the saddest eyes she could muster. It wasn’t hard.

“The most I can tell you is to start looking in downtown Houston, just outside of Market Square Park. Now, you’ll have to excuse me. I really have to go before I sink myself into any more trouble.”

Gairloch turned and left, leaving Lizzy clueless. Downtown was big. She let her head fall on her knees again. She felt horrible. The alcohol had numbed her guilt, but deepened the emptiness she felt inside. On top of everything else, the world began to spin and tumble.

She wiped her face on her sleeve and lay back in the tall grass, the blades prickling her cheeks as she stared at the stars. She thought of praying to them, of asking a magic sword to save her, but the sky spun too fast to focus on.

She closed her eyes and slipped into unconsciousness.

Chapter 3

An annoying sliver of sunlight landing on Lizzy’s face woke her up the next morning. She sat up on her elbows and squinted. She was in her bed, wearing the same clothes as the evening before, but someone had covered her with a blanket. Tita had given her the multi-colored patchwork blanket a few years ago. She said it was made by a woman who lived in a village hidden deep within Central Park. It was so downy-soft, but Lizzy was careful about using it. She wanted it to last forever.

She remembered the party; how did she not have a hangover? In fact, she was surprised at how good she felt. She had slept the entire night through without waking up with 3 AM anxiety or enduring the usual nightmares. It was like waking up and breathing clearly after weeks of a chest cold. The only thing that bothered her was the warmth radiating from her new tattoo. She ignored it.

Lizzy squirmed; there was something under the small of her back. Twisted in the sheets, she found the Dragonscale ring and slipped it on.

She was startled to find Fresita sitting on her nightstand, bathing herself. She assumed Mykayla brought her and Fresita home after the party—her sister would never touch a cat. Lizzy flinched at how she had treated her friend the night before. Lizzy stared at Fresita, who blinked at her in silent judgment.

“I was a butt last night, huh?”

Fresita placed a paw on a plastic grocery bag sitting in front of her. Lizzy took it and blinked away the morning crud as she read the note attached to it.

“Sorry about last night. I hope this is what you were looking for. Myk.”

Lizzy felt guilty but put the note aside and peered into the bag. Inside was a worn leather book. Excited, she shoved herself upright so suddenly that it startled Fresita, almost causing her to fall off the nightstand. Lizzy ignored her annoyed hiss and threw aside the bag as she fumbled with the leather cord that held the book shut. She threw it open and found Tita’s drawings. It was the fairy tale sketchbook.

Tears filled Lizzy’s eyes as she ran her finger across the textured off-white pages. Tita started it in her twenties, but even after so many years, it wasn’t brittle. Lizzy brought the book close to her face and inhaled. The aroma of her perfume clung to the pages. Lizzy beamed.

Fresita pounced onto the bed beside Lizzy and nuzzled the book.

“You miss her, too?” Lizzy said, trying to hug the white cat. Fresita squirmed free of her arms but stayed beside her. “Ok, ok, I get it. You’re not that kind of cat. Wanna see her drawings? They’re really amazing.”

Lizzy flipped through the thick pages, making sure Fresita could see too, and found all her favorite drawings. As a child, Lizzy was sure Tita was the greatest artist, but now, as an adult, she could appreciate how talented she truly was. Even quick sketches were far beyond anything Lizzy could produce. She marveled at Tita’s wild imagination.

She paused at a self-portrait she either didn’t remember or had never seen before. In fact, Lizzy couldn’t get past the feeling that the sketchbook was much bigger, fuller than she remembered it being. She hoped that Tita had added more over the years.

Lizzy studied the portrait; a much younger version of Tita stared back at her. She looked to be in her mid-twenties, sporting a confident expression and a perplexing Mona Lisa smile. There was something so familiar about her. Her dad really didn’t look like her, but maybe—

Lizzy grabbed her phone, turned on the front-facing camera, but immediately looked away. She barely recognized herself. She mustered up a half smile to match the sketch and looked again. The similarity was striking. The hair was different, and Tita did not have freckles, but otherwise they could have almost been twins. She admired the drawing for a while before flipping through more pages.

“She was so creative,” Lizzy said to Fresita, who followed along with each page turn. “She told me stories about the pictures she had already drawn and created new drawings after she told me a new one. But they weren’t the usual fantasy stories you’ve heard before. Let me see if I can find one that I remember.” Lizzy flipped through the pages, remembering pieces of stories until she came across a fairy wearing a tubular glittery dress and a matching cloche. Lizzy almost grinned, but it felt wrong. The lithe creature struck a cute pose, with one leg kicked back, and blew a kiss. Fresita plopped a paw on the corner of the page, preventing Lizzy from turning to the next one.

“Maeve, the Flapper Fairy. She was my favorite,” Lizzy said. Fresita stared at her intently.

Lizzy smoothed down the page and stared at the ceiling for a moment, searching for the memory of the story. Just as the Fresita turned to leave, Lizzy cleared her throat and began.

“There was once, in a realm of wonder,” Lizzy said, and then stopped to look over at Fresita, who met her glance. “That’s how Tita used to start the stories. You know, like ‘once upon a time?’” Fresita seemed uninterested and looked back at the drawing before Lizzy finished explaining.

“Anyways, there was this unstoppable adventurous fairy. Though all of the Fae tended to be mischievous and bold as younglings, Maeve was the very most. What made things worse was that she didn’t grow out of it. Even after five hundred years of childhood! When it came time for her to join their society, she was more interested in adventure and the human world.”

Lizzy paused as memories of Tita weaving the story for her tugged at her grief. She cleared her throat and continued. “Her friends pleaded with her, and her elders scolded her. It didn’t stop her, though, and she continued to visit the physical realms often. She loved clothes. She would study all the latest fashions and design her own outfits, with dreams of one day opening a clothing store for other fairies and magic creatures. When she was not studying fashion trends, she would meddle in the lives of humans in our world—”

Fresita stood up straight and twitched her whiskers as she glared at Lizzy. Lizzy looked at the cat for a moment, wondering what was going through her head, and then continued. “She would cause all kinds of problems until one day—,”

Fresita whisked her tail in Lizzy’s face and prowled away. “Fine, it doesn’t matter, that’s all of the story I remember anyway.”

Lizzy rolled her eyes and went back to investigating the book. She turned the pages carefully until she came across a double-page spread of a cloven mountain. It was massive, as if a great axe had split it wide open. In the valley created by the two halves, hundreds of houses rested among the branches of towering trees. Looking over it all, a great castle was built atop a bridge that spanned the two halves. Inset on either side of the pages were detailed drawings of the different homes. Tita captured the elegance of the wooden houses, their surfaces decorated with carved swirling leaves, vines, and flowers. Similar to her tattoo. Lizzy frowned but ignored the pull to compare the designs to her arm.

She returned to her investigation of the book; not only were there new drawings, but Tita’s handwriting was everywhere. It was even on pages Lizzy was sure didn’t have them before. Like a field notebook, detailed notes pointed out interesting characters, names, and facts. There was so much new to explore that, like a child again, she only glanced at the pictures as she turned page after page.

She finally paused on the image of a tall, beatific woman in a wispy gown. Lizzy remembered her beauty. Faint, cicada-like wings framed downy chiffon-colored hair that cascaded onto her shoulders. She was caught in the middle of a hearty laugh, as her delicate hand touched her chest. Underneath, carefully scribed letters read “Grace of the Fae Realm, Life-Giver, and Protector, Lady Floressa, The Faerie Queene.”

Lizzy was about to recount the queen’s story to Fresita, whether she wanted to listen or not, when she squinted and leaned close to the image. There was a faint mark on the queen’s forehead; a leafy heart tattoo that almost looked like the front of a crown. She couldn’t remember whether she had seen it before, but now it was obvious to her.

Lizzy was happy to be back in all these stories. She thought maybe she could hide here for a while and forget about the world. But she needed coffee.

For Lizzy, coffee was a necessity that she clung to. She wasn’t an all-day drinker, but she made sure to have at least one good cup every day. Her friends lovingly called her ‘our little coffee snob.’ Since she began her self-imposed confinement, she had been making pour-overs, but today she was out of coffee beans. She had her usual spots she would have gone to before, but she couldn’t spend the morning accepting people’s condolences. She just wanted peace and coffee. She started searching online for a good coffee shop nearby, but remembered the strange conversation with Gairloch.

“Café Calacoayan,” Lizzy said out loud, wondering if the place was even real. Fresita stood up and headed to the door as if she were ready to go as well. “Oh, do you think you are going with me?” Fresita sat by the door and waited patiently. “You’re probably better off staying at home. I have no idea where I’m going.”

For a brief moment, she was excited about heading out to the coffee shop until she instinctively picked up her phone. Before, she never once went without inviting Vic and vice versa. There were times when one or both were busy with work or school or had a significant other and couldn’t go, but they always asked. Her heart sank, and her legs felt weak. She leaned against the doorway to her closet and contemplated not going. However, the story of the magic healing sword tugged at her mind. She didn’t understand why she even considered believing it, but something deep inside gave her a small flicker of hope.

She stood up straight and forced herself to go. She slipped into a pair of comfy jeans and a zip-up hoodie and tried to slip out the door without letting Fresita escape. She thought she was successful, but when she turned around, Fresita was innocently sitting in the corridor.

“Escape artist,” Lizzy said, as she headed downstairs to catch the Metrorail.

Lizzy and Fresita journeyed to the downtown area Gairloch had suggested. The morning air hung gray and chilly, a silver weight bearing down on the city and on Lizzy’s mood. The park took up an entire city block, boxed in by restaurants and bars that wouldn’t really wake up for hours. As usual, Saturday mornings down here were quiet except for the dog park, which already sounded wide awake.

She scanned the businesses but didn’t see any with a name that sounded like whatever Gairloch had said. But he’d also said it was near the park, not in it. Lizzy hoped it wouldn’t take too long to find. She was getting close to the point where missing her morning coffee usually meant a caffeine headache was on the way.

She circled the park, then circled it again, each loop a little wider than the last, until frustration finally won. She only came across a few cafés, and none of them were what she was looking for. She even asked around, but no one had ever heard of such a place.

The thin spark of hope she’d brought with her flickered out. She wasn’t even sure why she was doing this anymore. Like a fool, she was chasing a fairy tale.

Lizzy dropped onto a bench and let her head fall forward. At some point, even Fresita had given up, wandering off to do whatever it was that cats did when they were done humoring humans.

A shadow fell across her, and she looked up. A large man stood in the street as he leaned back to take a picture of the building above them. She almost ignored him, but just beyond his shoulder, a car was headed in his direction. The driver was staring at a woman walking on the opposite sidewalk, not where he was going.

Lizzy shot up and threw her entire body weight into the man to knock him out of the way. He was easily twice her size, so Lizzy bounced off of him and fell onto the pavement. Startled, he stepped forward and out of the way of the car to help her to her feet. The car swished by, and the man looked shaken as he realized what had just happened.

Lizzy looked up at him; it was the gentle-faced man she exchanged glances with at the party. He gave her a look of profound appreciation that faded into a grin. He recognized her as well. There was a long moment where they just stared at each other before Lizzy finally blinked and looked at her palms. They were scraped from landing on the street.

“Here,” he said, offering his hand. “On your feet.” His voice carried a deep Scottish lilt, warm and unhurried, complementing the gentleness of his face. “You were at the gathering last night, were you not?”

Lizzy got up on her own. “Yeah.”

“Leonydas,” the man said, extending his hand. His smile was friendly, hard to look away from. “It is a pleasure.”

“Why in hell were you standing in the street?” Lizzy replied, ignoring his greeting with a frown.

“Just got the phone,” he explained. “I was trying out the camera. Never had one before.”

“You do realize you almost got run over?”

“I am sorry,” Leonydas said quietly. “That was careless of me. Thank you for saving me.” His gaze dropped to her hands, and his expression shifted. He reached for her without thinking. “You are hurt!”

“I’m fine,” Lizzy said, frowning at the scrapes.

“This is my doing,” he said. “Let me take you somewhere to be mended.”

“To be mended?” Lizzy repeated, puzzled at first by his phrasing, but assumed it was just because he was foreign.

“Yes, Grizzlethorpe’s?” he said, and reached for her hands again.

“Stop,” Lizzy exclaimed. She shoved his hands aside, a little more forceful than necessary. “I said I’m fine— ”

Before she could say anything more, Lizzy was shoved against a light pole and found herself back on the ground again. She shook her head and looked up. The tall woman she had seen Leonydas with the evening before loomed over her.

“Xel, no!” Leonydas knelt beside Lizzy, hands hovering, unsure where to touch. “I am so sorry. I did not mean for this. Are you ok?”

Lizzy stared at the glaring woman. She wore slightly oversized embroidered jeans and a loose blouse; however, it was evident she was muscular. Lizzy wasn’t intimidated by her strength, though. A fierceness flashed in her icy blue eyes and was chiseled into her Norse-featured face.

Lizzy massaged her chest. The woman had barely touched her, but Lizzy felt like she had been wailed on.

“Leonydas, everything ok?” the woman said. She loomed over Lizzy, blending in with the skyscrapers around them.

“Yes, Xel, I am fine. Stand down, this woman just saved my life,” Leonydas said as he awkwardly tried to help Lizzy to her feet without touching her. “I apologize deeply. Please, is there anything I can do to help you?” Lizzy looked at the odd couple with disbelief, one trying to help her, while the other was about to tear her to shreds.

“You both just need to stay back,” Lizzy warned, pointing her finger at them as if it were a weapon.

“This is no longer your concern, little one,” Xel said, her gaze steady and unkind. “You may take your leave.”

“Gladly, Xena,” Lizzy said.

“It is Xel,” the woman corrected.

“Relax. It was a joke.”

Xel looked Lizzy up and down, just once. “Yes,” she said. “I see that.”

Xel snapped her head around to peer down the street. “We should go.” An instant after Xel spoke, a dog nearby barked a warning to anyone who would listen, and soon others in the area joined in. The hairs on the back of Lizzy’s neck straightened at the sound of the dogs, but she pushed against the fear. Just a dream, she told herself.

Leonydas frowned but nodded as he gave Lizzy a final smile. “I sincerely apologize for…all of this. Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?”

Lizzy was about to insist that they just leave when she remembered they were at the party. Maybe they knew about this café.

“Café Calacoayan. Do you know it?”

“Of course,” Leonydas said.

“How do I get there?”

Leonydas grinned and produced a small silver business card case from his pants pocket. “I can show you where it is.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you,” Lizzy huffed.

“He was not inviting you,” Xel said with the hint of a laugh, her eyes only surveying the area.

“Xel, enough,” Leonydas said with a touch of frustration. From the metal case, he produced a thick-cut amber-colored business card and held it close to his lips. He whispered to it: “Calacoayan.”

He offered it to her.

“You will not find better coffee,” he said. “The card will see you there.”

Lizzy stared at the card suspiciously. There was a hole in the middle of it. Realizing she was not going to take it from him, he squatted down and placed it on the sidewalk.

“Please,” Leonydas said, low and earnest. “It is the least I can offer you.”

Xel seized his arm and pulled. He went with her, stepping backwards, eyes still on Lizzy.

“Next street,” he said. “Two blocks up. Go quickly, the card will not last more than thirty minutes.”

Leonydas and Xel crossed the street toward a motorcycle, much like the one Mykayla had been repairing, while Lizzy remained motionless, frowning at them.

“And beware of the alleys in that area, they can be tricky,” Leonydas called out as Xel climbed on the bike and revved the engine. Xel gave Lizzy a sarcastic wave as he climbed on the bike behind her.

“Ok,” Lizzy said to herself and shook her head as she watched the couple speed away. “Weirdos.” Leonydas’ eyes stayed on her until they turned the corner. It wasn’t a creepy stare but hopeful and friendly. Lizzy realized her face had relaxed and frowned harder.

She turned her attention back to the card. She chewed on her lip for a second and then moved closer. At first glance, it seemed to be one of those old gimmicky business cards styled to stand out from the rest. But there was indeed something special about it. The hole in it was circled by glittery gold writing, tempting her. She picked it up for a closer look.

The card, made of a cardstock-thick parchment paper, held a sliver of grey rock that framed the quarter-sized hole. The stone was cool to the touch and seamlessly disappeared into the card itself, where the golden writing read, Please turn and walk. She turned the card over but found no contact information.

“How in the hell is this supposed to help me find anything?” she mumbled as she turned and took a few steps. She was still staring at the card when the words disappeared, a letter at a time as if someone had scrubbed a rubber eraser across them. She was startled at first, but it dawned on her that it must be some kind of new digital paper. “Cool.”

Wrong direction, ma’am.

The writing reappeared, letter by letter. She wrinkled her face in doubt, wondering how it knew she was a woman. She tried turning in the opposite direction and took a few deliberate steps.

Onward!

Staring at the card, she headed down the block, bumping into poles and people as she went. She experimented by turning the card in different directions, but as long as she was headed in the same direction, the words did not change. She wondered how it was powered and where the circuitry was. It was barely as thick as a coin. When she arrived at the next corner, the words rewrote themselves.

Turn right and proceed.

She continued this way for a couple of blocks, with the card guiding her until she came to a street lined with apartments. At the card’s request, she turned down the street. Halfway down the words on the card urgently changed.

A Thraewen, with the same destination, is nearby. Would you like to accompany?

“Thraewen?” Lizzy asked. She paused; the word sounded familiar.

The mysterious word was erased from the card, and after a pause, it was replaced with Magic User.

“Magic user?” Lizzy said, with amused exasperation. But then she remembered where she had heard the word before. Tita had used it in her stories. A Thraewen didn’t just use magic but worked with it. They wove the world’s hidden energies together to create, protect, and assist. She didn’t think it was a real word, though, and had never seen it used anywhere else.

The words twisted into a small curly cue arrow that pointed behind her. Lizzy turned just as someone exited a nearby building.

The morning sun slipped through the clouds. It glinted off the rings on a young woman’s fingers and the charms at her wrist as she tied a bespoke apron over rusty orange corduroy pants and a muted mauve turtleneck. She appeared to be in a hurry, but a content smile lingered on her lips, easing the tension in her face.

“Good morning,” the woman sang with a wink as she passed by, leaving a trail of lavender and sweet Earl Grey tea in the air.

She has to be a barista, Lizzy thought. Even without the apron, she just has that vibe.

The golden-skinned Latina’s hair bounced in a bun as she hurried down the sidewalk. She must have thrown it together on the fly because now strands of black hair stuck out here and there like pixies trying to escape. The entire thing was on the verge of collapse.

“Ok, I’ll follow her,” Lizzy said half to herself and half to the card. She looked back at it and waited for it to erase and then rewrite.

Hurry! The card scribbled.

Lizzy looked up. The barista was jogging. Lizzy quickly followed, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible, while still holding up the card to verify that it was the woman the card wanted her to follow.

She’s running late.

“This is crazy,” Lizzy mumbled. “How would it know that? How would it know anything?”

The barista reached the end of the street and darted around the corner, forcing Lizzy jog to keep from losing sight of her. She stretched her neck out and peered around the corner just in time to see the woman stop in front of an old abandoned three-story building framed by a pair of large trees inset in the sidewalk. Lizzy was sure she must have been by here before, but had never noticed this place. It was significantly older than the stark modern buildings that sandwiched it.

The barista stepped onto the first step of a short stairway and paused. She cocked her head and then looked around. Lizzy whipped towards the street and pretended to be waiting for a ride share. She felt the woman’s gaze linger on her, so Lizzy waited. ‘Magic user’ conjured up memories of Tita’s stories and a world of hope. She glanced at the card.

She’s almost out of range…

Lizzy spun back; she was gone. Lizzy dashed diagonally across the street and stopped in front of the building, which stuck out a few feet from the others onto the sidewalk. The building, perhaps from the 30s, was constructed with smooth oversized white bricks for the first floor and a half. From there, rough-cut, ruddy-colored stones extended the building fora few more floors.

A row of unkempt holly bushes that stretched across the front stabbed Lizzy in the thigh as she tiptoed to look inside. Decades of dust, plus the absence of light inside, made the windows opaque. The bushes ran to the beginning of a short flight of cement steps leading up to a glass-and-metal door. Like the windows, there was no seeing through except for a vintage-looking ‘For Lease’ sign.

There was an odd electric buzz in the air, and as Lizzy tilted her head in thought, she caught a blinking light out of the corner of her eye. She looked up and at first didn’t see anything, but the longer she stared at the upper corner of the building, the more she was sure something was there. The stone corner was subtly illuminated by an unknown source of neon light. It made Lizzy’s head hurt to remain focused on it for too long.

She stepped back, checking up and down the street. Newer buildings sat on either side, but both had doors boarded over a decade ago. The barista was nowhere in sight, nor was there anywhere for her to go. The block was too long for her to have made it around the corner before Lizzy might have seen her.

Lizzy took a deep breath of the cool morning air, and her eyes lit up. The aroma of fresh-roasted coffee was coming from somewhere nearby. She looked around again; no stores, cafés, or even street signs. She scoured her memory of this street, and it was, as it is now, a block of perpetually empty nondescript buildings. She looked back at the card for help.

The magic user is still nearby, as is your destination: Café Calacoayan.

“Is she inside?” Lizzy murmured.

Use the hagstone.

The card displayed cute curly cue arrows towards the stone-framed opening. Lizzy’s head bobbed back in doubt as she stared at the card. A vivid memory of Tita taking her on an ‘adventure’ through a creek came to mind.

“What are we looking for?” Lizzy had signed, as she stomped playfully through the water. Tita smiled as she looked back at her great-granddaughter and joined her in with own splashing.

“A hagstone!” Tita replied.

“What is that?” Lizzy asked, scanning through all the rocks in the water. “What color stone is it?”

“Brown, black, grey, green,” Tita responded. “Purple, pink, red, rust. It can be any color, cupcake! But! But…it must have a hole through it.”

“A hole? What for?”

“For seeing things… It’s a seeing stone.”

“What kind of things?”

“Fairies…Magic…and more! It allows non-magical people to see the things in our world that they normally wouldn’t. ”

Young Lizzy’s eyes had been wide with wonder and excitement, but now they narrowed with doubt. She turned the card over in her hand a few times.

“A seeing stone?” Lizzy asked.

There was no further response from the card. She sighed and looked around. Seeing no one else, she reluctantly held the card up and peeked through the hole. Self-conscious, she immediately lowered it, but in that glimpse, something amazing appeared.

Lizzy immediately snapped the card back up and gawked into the little hole. Just above the third floor, a neon sign hung with glowing letters that read “Café Calacoayn.” Underneath, an image of a hand with a floating coffee pot above it, poured animated coffee. From the side, an arrow curved down and directed her eyes to the front windows of the previously abandoned building. Flabbergasted, she dropped the card.

“What is this?” Lizzy said, staring at the card on the ground. She quickly scooped up the card and looked through it again. The neon sign appeared again. She gaped, switching her view back and forth. “Is this a game?” She flipped the card over to examine it again and then poked her finger through the hole. There was no video screen.

Time limit approaching, the card warned. It was an honor to serve you. The card felt light in her fingers as little pieces around the edges tore away and evaporated like embers.

“No, wait! I want to see more!”

The golden writing that had been so bright on it before began to fade, then changed one last time.

Now the path is revealed, the ring will suffice, the card scribbled out quickly in letters that only lasted for a moment before disappearing with the rest of the card. Lizzy stood staring into the sky, confused as she fiddled with the Dragonscale ring on her finger. This was all just as strange as the tattoo magically appearing on her arm. But was it magic? Real magic?

Lizzy decided she had to press forward, no matter how much stranger things got. There had to be an explanation for all of it, and possibly hope? She had been standing still, thinking to herself for a minute, when a rustle in the leaves in the large tree near her drew her attention upwards. A creature hopped from one branch to another.

She expected a squirrel, but when she laid eyes on it, there was a grouping of odd wings. Clear and veiny like a cicada, these wings were much larger and attached to a strange, crouched body. The winged creature fluttered down from the branches, headed towards the coffee shop, and Lizzy gasped.

An untamed four-inch woman was the owner of the wings. This was not a drone or any toy; the little person was alive and unmistakably a fairy. Even if Tita had never told her dozens of tales about them, Lizzy would have no trouble realizing what this was.

Her little legs were tilted back, and a pair of dirty feet made a slight paddling motion as she butterflied along. As if to pass the time, she chewed on the fingernails of one hand while the other reached back and scratched her bottom through a skirt of Ash tree leaves.

“Hello?” Lizzy said. The fairy looked over her shoulder and froze when she realized she had been spotted. The generously curved creature hovered, bobbing up and down, in midair, but remained frozen, fingers in mouth, hand on cheek, as if hoping no one would notice her.

Lizzy grinned as she moved closer. While the creature wore leaves for a skirt, her breasts were covered in orangey green moss that seemed to grow in patches across her body. Tiny twigs were tangled in her hair along with a random flower petal or two. The fairy’s wings glittered, and perhaps her skin might have too if she weren’t so grubby. She looked like she had spent a few days playing in the countryside without being made to wash up.

The fairy followed her with her eyes until Lizzy reached up with an outstretched finger to touch her little feet. The Dragonscale ring gleamed, and the fairy’s face pulled into a mocking pout.

“Mensongeux!” she spat, her small voice rough despite its pitch. She zipped forward, latched onto the ring, and with her tiny hands tugged at it. Amused Lizzy laughed and placed her thumb on the underside of the ring as the fairy’s face turned dark pink. Unsuccessful, the fairy huffed, switched sides, and tried pushing the ring free, her bare bottom waggling through the leaves. Lizzy looked away.

Noticing Lizzy’s thumb, the fairy let out a frustrated growl and flashed an evil smile.

“Vengelie!” The fairy exclaimed. An intense flash of pain made Lizzy yelp and look back. The fairy had sunk her teeth into the skin between Lizzy’s fingers. It was as if someone had jabbed a shard of glass into a nerve.

Lizzy waggled her finger, but the fairy held fast. Lizzy blew on her like she was trying to put out a match. The fairy gagged as she flipped Lizzy the bird, but did not release her grip.

Lizzy was frustrated, and the pain crawled up her arm, so she shook her hand hard. The fairy wrapped her legs around the finger in response and bit even harder.

“Little fucker,” Lizzy growled. With a vicious flick to her attacker’s backside, she sent the fairy tumbling through the air. The fairy quickly pulled herself out of the spin and turned to face Lizzy.

Lizzy flinched as the fairy, in a voice much too loud for her size, launched into a series of what surely were fae expletives. The fairy waved her fists and continued her tirade for so long that Lizzy’s surprise wore off, and she began to laugh at her. Indignant, the angry fairy stuck out her tongue, turned around, and mooned Lizzy, intentionally—vulgarly this time. The fairy flipped her off with both hands as she waggled her bottom and then darted behind the bushes in front of the coffee shop. Lizzy could only stand there, finger throbbing, astounded.

If there was little hope of logically explaining away the tattoo and card, a fairy…a real-life flying fairy was impossible. She rubbed the bright red teethmarks between her fingers and wondered how clean fairy mouths were.

Did Tita know? The stories she had spun about fairies were spot on. Cartoons told everyone else that fairies were beautiful, fun, and wondrous. Lizzy, though, grew up hearing about a cabal of rude, mean-spirited, and tricky creatures. Though older and higher-ranking fairies, like the ones who often scolded Maeve, were more civilized, the young ones enjoyed their youth to the fullest. Lizzy’s mind buzzed with something she hadn’t felt in months. Excitement.

She turned her attention back to the front of the building and found that the spikey holly didn’t run up against the front of the building. There was a three-foot gap where a set of stairs descended from an iron gate at the end of the building to another doorway to what must be the basement. Wary of the fairy, Lizzy did her best to peer into the stairwell, but it was doused in shadows.

Lizzy took a hesitant step down. She placed her hand against an ivy-covered wall for balance, but immediately yanked away. The vines moved, slithered around the spot where she had placed her hand. After a moment, they were still again, but with every movement she made, the leaves quivered. Lizzy kept an eye on them but continued down the middle of the stairs.

Near the bottom, tiny dots of amber light amongst the ivy flickered on, making it easier to see what she was getting into. While the steps were cemented, the landing at the bottom was made of large cobblestones. The ivy on the street side wall continued down and covered the wall in front of the stairway.

At waist level, an antique brass spigot with a rosewood handle stuck out of the ivy. Water dripped from it, creating a small puddle and saturating the area with the aroma of fresh rainwater. Lizzy glanced at it and then turned her attention to a large iron door to the right. This was not a modern commercial building door but an old industrial door held together with fist-sized round-head bolts. There was no handle.

Lizzy pushed against the door, but it was immovable. She pushed the tips of her fingers into a thin gap between the door and its frame. She pulled without result. Lizzy stepped back and looked for any evidence of a way in. Against her better judgment, she knocked on it. It didn’t even sound like a door; there was only a solid thud as if she had knocked on the side of a mountain.

Lizzy sighed and sat on the steps to think. She looked over at the ivy and studied the little lights. They had a wavering glow like the sunken flame within the wax walls of a pillar candle. She leaned in close and found they were little cream-colored flower buds.

Lizzy was about to touch one when she realized there was a tiny pair of feet perched on top of the stem of the bud. She followed the legs up and found that damn fairy sneering down at her.

“Revoilà,” the fairy murmured, annoyed. The little woman reared her fist back and clobbered Lizzy’s nose with a haymaker.

Jerking back, Lizzy scrambled to her feet. Her nose felt like she had just walked face-first into that iron door. Charging Lizzy, the fairy let out a battle cry. Lizzy dodged out of the way and fell against the wall facing the door. It made a hollow wooden thud as she hit it.

Lizzy ducked and dodged repeated attacks but ended up tripping over her twisting feet and fell beside the spigot. The fairy zipped up the stairs and lined up an attack. Lizzy reached over and stuck her thumb against the opening of the spigot. As the fairy dived towards her, she spun the handle on and aimed a jet spray at the dirty fairy. The water pelted her square in the face, sending her tumbling backward. Lizzy removed her thumb from the spigot as the fairy crashed onto a cobblestone step.

Flashing Lizzy a look that could kill, the fairy coughed and choked up water. She fumed as she got up to inspect her now cleaner-than-before body.

“Ach! Non! Non! Non!” the fairy squawked, stamping her foot again and again.

“Sorry,” Lizzy offered in a half-apology.

The fairy narrowed her eyes in response as she made her wings vibrate to shake off the remaining water. She pointed at Lizzy in a silent threat and hovered into the air.

“Look, I’m new to all this,” Lizzy said as she offered her hand to the fairy. “I’ve always wanted to meet a fairy. Could we please start over?”

The fairy tilted her head, giving Lizzy an inquisitive look as she floated closer. She drew her chin to her chest, cleared her throat, and spat an enormous ball of green phlegm into Lizzy’s palm.

“Ugh,” Lizzy exclaimed, shaking her hand and then her head in disbelief, again. The air filled with a squeaky belly laugh as the fairy zipped up the stairs and out of sight.

Lizzy turned the faucet handle to wash the fairy goo from her hands and jumped when the wall beside her began to slide aside. The water poured out of the faucet at first, but the more she turned the knob, the water eventually stopped flowing. Once the knob was fully turned, the wall completely retracted, revealing a door.

The door was arched and made of ancient-looking, thick wooden planks held together by elegant, flowing bands of decorative iron shaped like tree branches. The door could have been a hundred years old, but it was as solid as the iron one. She looked it over. This one did have a knob.

Lizzy stood up and, with her fingers, she turned the brass knob, also covered with decorative designs. It turned freely, but nothing happened. She pushed. She pulled. But the door did not budge. She knew there had to be some kind of trick or magic to get this door open. She searched for another faucet, a lever, or a loose stone to interact with, but found nothing. She wrinkled her nose at the gooey fairy juice still on her palm and turned to wash it off. But she remembered something Tita had once told her.

“Fairy magic,” Tita said, “is some of the most powerful magic there is, cupcake.”

“Where does their magic come from?” Lizzy had asked.

“The fae are full of a kind of magic called ilWunne. It is an old, raw magic that gives life to their Realm. That’s why they are so chaotic when they’re young. They have to flow through it and not let it flow through them. But even the younglings are powerful. I tell you this, if you have a fairy on your side, you can get through almost anything.”

Lizzy looked down at her hand. Most of the green goo was still stuck to her palm and glittered from the glowing buds around her. She placed her palm on the door handle and tried again to turn it. There was a click from within the door. She felt more resistance this time as the knob rotated until it finally stopped with a louder click. She held her breath and then pushed the door in.

The door swung open to reveal a short hallway leading into a more expansive room. Further ahead, light poured in from a bank of large windows crowned with oval arches.

Lizzy blinked; not from the light but because she was confused. She was below street level. She should be looking at the sewer system or the basement of the buildings in front of her. She made sure the door wouldn’t close, then ran up the stairs to look in that direction. There was the street, the sidewalk on the other side, and then another building.

She returned to the door and stuck her hand inside. It wasn’t an illusion. The only thing she could think of was that this was part of Houston’s tunnel system. It didn’t look like it, though.

“Or it could just be magic,” Lizzy said to herself. She stepped into the hallway and slowly walked towards the room. The robust aroma of coffee welcomed her in, and she smiled at the familiar clink of coffee mugs and chatter. She was sure she had found Café Calacoayan.

Continue with Lizzy's journey in the pages of A Realm of Healing.
Preorder now.

Releases 3/16/26

Thank you so much for wanting to read the first few chapters of my first novel A Realm of Healing.

The story is a modern fantasy novel centered on grief, guilt, and the impossible choices that accompany love and healing.

If you enjoy it, then please pre-order a copy to continue the story. It releases 3/16/26.