In the enchanted forest, everything lived. Of course, this was true for all forests, but the way each entity, even plant-life, moved like an animal was not.

And yes, more than a few were dangerous. Vines could creep over someone’s body as they slept, tighten slowly during the night, and strangle the intruder to use its carcass for food in the soil.

As beautiful as the woods were, and it was vivid, far more vivid than anything Rihetha had ever witnessed, she could see the danger of it as well. Therefore, it was always important to note where other creatures refused to go.

Till now, she, Wyrn less so, could roam anywhere without fear. On the rare occasions when they’d fallen asleep out here, when Rihetha had fallen from a branch during the night, something, be it tree or troll, had caught her and returned her to her purchase.

None caught Wyrn. Ever.

The fairy kings had been awful beings, apparently, and they were the only ones reincarnated, again and again. This was the first incarnation that didn’t rule the land with violence.

So while Rihetha thought his treatment unfair, everything in the forest, including Wyrn himself, had long memories.

Wyrn would never be attacked, but not rescued either.

One place of danger stood out, the only area with a heavy overgrowth of trees. Even as they flew towards it, Rihetha felt uneasy. More than once, Wyrn came back to take her hand when she slowed.

“We can go back,” Wyrn suggested.

Matax zipped to a stop before them, ready to curse. One look at Wyrn’s face changed his expression. He…forced…the polite response.

“I’d rather you didn’t. You can feel how dead it is here.”

That was true.

Rihetha worried. “Is it dangerous?”

Matax scoffed. “Not for him. This was his favorite spot!”

Wyrn gave no response, not until Rihetha looked to him for honesty.

Finally, he nodded. “He speaks truth.” He hesitated once then confessed, “But there’s a reason for that.”

“Oh?”

He didn’t answer as he took her by the hand and tugged her on. Their wings fluttered faster and they hummed along.

The path to this part of the forest had long since faded, leaving random patches as a testament to it ever having existed.

Once they broke through the thick leaves of the willow trees, they saw it.

Rihetha gasped. The lake was amazing, the water so blue it looked fake. And flying above the water, her feet dragging along the surface, buzzed Jeze.

Back and forth she went, covering the length of it. She swept along, not at all that fast, part for part, shoreline for shoreline until she’d crossed the entire lake, every part of it.

And when she was done, she started it all again.

There wasn’t much to see of her face; the despondent expression didn’t fade. Her pace didn’t fade either. Like some strange machine, she skimmed the surface of the water…looking for something.

“For what does she search?” Rihethe asked.

Matax didn’t turn to her after she spoke, in fact, he turned to Wyrn, waiting for an answer.

Wyrn didn’t make eye contact with either of them. He hove a sigh when he said, “Hope.”

“Hope? Whatever does that mean?”

And what had Wyrn meant? It sounded farfetched but when Jeze started her trek once more, Rihetha found truth in Wyrn’s words.

“She’s been here nonstop,” Matax said, sounding the gentlest Rihetha had ever heard him, “refusing to take care of me.”

The final complaint had Rihetha whipping her head around to face him.

Bastard. He was serious.

“Therefore,” Matax said, turning to face them both, “you are to help me put her back to normal.”

Wyrn narrowed his brows. “Normal?”

“Yes. Normal. Absolutely normal.”

Rihetha hazarded a guess, but praied she was wrong. “As your bedfellow?”

“Well, of course.” Matax propped his hands on his hips. “Right where she belongs.”

Rihetha’s mouth hung open but it was Wyrn who said, “You can’t.”

Matax nearly fell out of the air, but he regained his ability to flutter his wings.

“And what’s that mean?” he demanded.

Wyrn tightened his grip on Rihetha’s hand as he watched on. “She was locked in another realm with my wings. Suppressed in darkness for days. When she left, she probably left with all feelings of happiness stripped. It took me months to fly because of that spell. Imagine what it did to an actual fae.”

Rather than consider that, Matax stared at him. His jaw clenched often until he said, “We had a deal.” Wyrn’s gaze had him recorrecting his tone. “Your…Your Majesty, your wife and I had a deal. Help me get her back and we’re done.”

“There’s no getting her back,” Wyrn told him. “That’s why she’s at the forgotten lake. She’s looking for that feeling again and nothing’s going to give it back to her. Nothing.”

Anger was written on Matax’s face at first, then disappointment and Rihetha suggested, “How about getting a new bedfellow. I’ve heard that male fairies can. They can have several.”

Matax’s eyes fell to Wyrn again who dipped in the air then regained his balance.

“That was a long time ago,” Wyrn insisted. His grip on Rihetha’s hand tightened to the point it was painful. “I only want my wife.”

Rihetha was sure to shift the focus back to Matax. “But you—”

“No,” he muttered, “no. I’ve tried that.” Puffing out his chest, he looked bolder when he boasted, “It’s been four years. You don’t think I’ve been waiting around for her to get better, have you?”

The bragging didn’t match his saddened expression.

Finally, Matax turned to watch Jeze on her next pass across the water.

“Night or day, she doesn’t stop. She only let me close to her once. After that, she’s just cried and cried. But she’d never cried when I touched her before.”

Next it was Rihetha squeezing Wyrn’s hand tight for assurance.

She was still confused, however, “Why do you—why did you think we could help?”

Matax kept his back to them and said nothing for some time. When he spoke, his voice no longer held the arrogance he was known for.

“Fairy kings and fairy queens aren’t like humans. They are selected to tend to the forest. The kings defend it, the queens nurture it. They are partners, but rarely lovers.” He turned to face them. “And certainly never a couple.”

Wyrn’s discomfort made Rihetha pay attention. He’d never told her this.

“In fact,” Matax went on, “they hate one another usually. All the ones I’ve ever met or heard of. And it’s said because the first couple hated one another and it kept on that way. No one was shocked when the last queen gave her heart to a Jaffo. But no matter what lovers they took, the king still saw her as his, and he was unforgiving. Until now.” Matax’s brown eyes settled on Rihetha, “Until—”

“Us?”

“No.” Matax told Wyrn, “Until your mother. Our rage is supposed to consume us. But Your Majesty, you’ve kept your marriage healthy. Your father even subdued one of us. How?”

Rihetha looked between them, confused.

In all things, Wyrn was helpful, gentle. But this sign sounded his annoyance.

“You cannot help her. She’s at this lake, looking for something she’ll never find. I never found it. And I lingered here over and over again, and I never did.”

Matax nodded to Rihetha. “But it looks like you have.”

Wyrn paused then glanced at his wife then Matax and said, “And look what it took.”

There was nothing left to say after that.

Matax looked between them rather than make eye contact.

“She won’t perish,” Wyrn assured him. “The water’s magic. So long as she touches it, she can keep in motion. But she will not leave until she’s gotten what she longs for. And no one knows what that is. Not you, not I. Go home. Go find a new bedfellow. Stop being lazy about having to learn someone’s body again. And leave her to the lake. If she’s lucky, another fairy may join her and they can scan it together, but with no war, there’s no loss to bring them here to pine. Go home.”

But Matax made no sound. He looked helpless flying there, staring past them embarrassed.

The next sigh came with Wyrn tugging Rihetha’s hand, leading her away. She in turn wanted to protest but the pained glare told her to reconsider.

“What would you do?” a voice called from behind them. “What would you do if you were me?” Matax asked again.

Wyrn flew higher, answering, “I’m not you.”

The sun was setting as they traveled home. Partway in their journey, Rihetha let go of his hand and he slowed in surprise.

It was foolish but the tears to sting her had her gaining speed when he tried to see what was wrong.

The sweet smell of dinner greeted them when they neared the house but she didn’t care, she flew through their open window and flopped down on the bed.

She’d grown to her human body upon touching the soft blankets. As proud as she should have been for being able to transform without his help, she hated him for it.

He landed shortly after, but didn’t dare approach.

“Princess?”

“Would it have been so terrible to help them?”

A great deal of time passed before he brought the covers up around her then slipped into bed as well.

She wanted to kick him off.

The kiss on the back of her neck only angered her further.

“It’s not something I can tell him.”

Rihetha asked the same thing as Matax, “What would you do? If it was me scouring that lake forlorn? What would you do?”

Wyrn wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. “I’d scourer it with you.”

One sob came with thoughts of The Living Goddess. That hadn’t made her sad until now. For when they visited last, Bonn now had three sons, the goddess had finally smiled. She’d even began taking offerings again and appearing for weddings for a moment or two. Things were fine, so why wasn’t this?

“I’m sorry,” Rihetha said, “I don’t understand the fairy culture and I keep making mistakes.”

Wyrn planted a kiss on her shoulder. “We will go back in a few days and pull her away from there,” he promised. “Once we do, she’ll calm a bit. But it won’t be forever. But he can keep on taking her away from there every few months if he’s up to it.”

Rihetha said through the tears, “That could last ages.”

There was no signs of Matax in the village for those few days. That got Rihetha’s hopes up. So when they arrived at the lake a week later to find Jeze still traveling the surface…alone, disappointed wasn’t a word she could use.

They landed on the grass and Rihetha peered over at the flowers floating atop the water.

“What are these?”

“Gifts,” Wyrn said. “As I’m sure he tried to bring her.”

That Rihetha could believe; Wyrn often brought her flowers or fruit after they fought.

So many things floated atop the water, even a big basket.

Rihetha hove a sigh. “Do you think he’s given up?”

Laughter filled the air and they looked up in time to see two yellow fairies, holding hands with a blue one, flutter close to the water.

Wyrn sat down beside her and watched the display. “Companions,” he explained. “The yellow are a cheerful breed. They follow merriment.”

Hands clasped before her, Rihetha watched on, begging it to work.

But the day was nearly over when the two yellow fairies both sighed and flew away, leaving Matax to watch after them, angry.

“I’m sure he paid them well,” Wyrn said.

If the way Matax kicked the water was any indication, he certainly had.

Again and again he went away and returned with something else. He even found a troll baby which he carried though it fought him. Its mother yelled from the shore, stomping in a temper.

Rihetha thought to stand but Wyrn held her hand and she rested again. Eventually, Matax flew the baby back to its mother and threw it into her arms. They exchanged some choice words and the troll stomped away.

Gut roiling, Rihetha admitted, “This is painful.”

Wyrn nodded. “Let’s go. We’ll keep her company and—”

He stopped short and Rihetha feared looking to see why.

It started out slow at first. Matax met Jeze at one side of the lake. She traveled on her set course. Once, he even jumped in her path and she zipped around him and back to her usual route.

He tried to stop her more than once, but those times were the worst because she’d cover her face and let out a terrible sound as she cried.

And just when Rihetha could take no more, Matax flew beside his red fae, saying nothing. They made three passes over that huge lake before she stopped and turned to face him.

Jeze gave no words, only eye contact which Matax took in, fearful.

He was the one to tug her on, intent on covering the lake once more, but she eased into his embrace and he held out his arms, unsure of what to do.

“Hold her,” Rihetha whispered, “you moron.”

Wyrn explained, “He can’t. Because that’s not what she needs.”

They remained like that for some time, Jeze with her arms around Matax’s neck, and Matax with his arms at his side.

Rihetha was hopeful but drooped when the methodical routine began once more. So as Matax and Jeze kept their distance, Rihetha rested her head on Wyrn’s shoulder.

She nodded off but awoke to a gentle tap.

“Princess!” Wyrn whispered.

Rihetha’s eyes fluttered open and was in time to witness two bright lights flickering on the water.

It was after she rubbed her face that she made out what she was seeing.

“What’s happening?”

Wyrn gave no answer. He didn’t need to when Jeze’s yellow glow solidified. The color traveled from her hand to that of Matax who gripped her firm. Once he glowed yellow as well, he tugged her close, embracing her with all his might.

Together, hand in hand, they flew up into the sky.

Matax spotted Wyrn and Rihetha and scoffed, “You humans are absolutely useless. The three of you!”

They zipped by but Rihetha gave little thought to their words and was more overjoyed at seeing Jeze smile as Matax charged her playfully.

Gone were their usual blue and red colors. In this, Rihetha needed no explanation. Somehow she knew, Matax had sacrificed what he enjoyed, physical pleasures with her, for the pursuit of laughter. Now they both chased merriment, both yellow.

A part of her was sad to know they’d never see them again—now they’d follow people in high spirits and not young lovers enjoying one another’s bodies.

When she realized what Matax’d said, she met Wyrn’s gaze, stunned.

“Did he say three?”

Wyrn shook his head. “Don’t get your hopes up. Or are you looking to fight again? It’s not easy for a fairy queen to give birth, as I’ve said. And I don’t want to deal with humans or other races in order to get a child. It’s not right.”

Their fight. It wasn’t that Rihetha didn’t understand. Who knew fairies, creatures that lived hundreds of years, required equally as long a time to procreate naturally? Even a pregnancy would carry on for quite a while.

Instead, fairies would make deals with humans, deals that often ended in either the male fairy doing what he had to with a human woman, the female fairy doing what she had to with a human, or both of them simply stealing a child, which was also no easy feat. It required trickery. Even the troll mother must have naïvely been duped into losing hold of her baby. Something unforgivable, as trolls were rather trusting despite their menacing appearance. She got it back, luckily, but what if she hadn’t?

As Rihetha recognized the pain involved, she understood—even admired—Wyrn’s stance of not forcing this.

Those were the easiest ways to gain a new fairy but within their realms, it was a long process froth with disappointment.

Finally, Rihetha relented.

“You’re right.”

Wyrn took off first, holding his hands out to her and she joined him. They were high in the sky when Rihetha took another look back at the water. The lake of the forgotten. She’d forget it, too.

The first flower sunk with a plop.

“What is happening?” she asked.

Her husband turned to witness the second offering vanish just the same. “It’s given her what she wanted. The sacrifice was sufficient. So it’s taking the other ones, too. That’s why it’s dangerous. It could eventually end up taking the fairy.”

Rihetha’s heart ran cold. “She could have died?”

Wyrn scoffed, “If she were lucky. No. It’s not death in the lake. It untethers all things from this realm and brings it to another. Please do not ask where to; you would not like the answer. Come.”

The basket spun in a circle and Rihetha watched it, wondering what was so big it could fit in such a thing.

“Come,” Wyrn said again.

But Rihetha waited, and when the water opened up and took the basket, she followed him.

Wyrn stopped midair, turned and shot into the water.

Rihetha’s hands flew to her mouth.

The basket broke through, shooting into the air. When Wyrn landed below it, he put it down and grew.

He tore the top of the basket open and raked his fingers through his hair, distressed.

Rihetha landed some distance away. She needed a few hops to be big again but smile proud when she succeeded. When she reached her husband, the fear in his eyes caused her to slow.

“What is it?”

Wyrn opened and parted his lips often before he turned and nodded down at the basket. “This one’s definitely for you.”

“What?”

Confusion fueled her steps but she knelt and gasped a new.

As she peered into the basket, two small eyes peered back.