Page 7 of Where Broken Wings Fly

“Only a few more seconds,” he whispered in my ear as my whole body tensed against the hurtling towards the ground.

But he was right, only a few seconds later we landed.

I wished I could have dismounted any way but the way I did — rolling to the side and crumpling against the ground as I heaved.

Niamh and Shea landed ahead, snickering amongst themselves as they strode towards us with straight legs and unwavering bodies. Killian landed with a thud, brushed off his pant legs, and moved towards me. With yet another hand outstretched, I grabbed on to him and let him toss me upright.

When Killian finally released my trembling body, I groaned. “That was both the best and worst thing I’ve ever done.”

All three of them shared in a tight laugh as they watched my body uncurl itself, until strength resumed in my spine and I was able to stand fully.

Just a dream–

My reminder to myself was cut short as I finally got a look at where we were.

The elm trees of St. Michael’s Mount were grander than mountains all around us, their canopies so high into the heavens that the only evidence of their existence was the sky being green instead of blue.

We were in the roots of the trees, where anybody who walked by would mistake the foliage and bushes for nothing more than exactly that. Yet here, in this size, I saw the truth that lived amongst the wilderness.

A kingdom. Naturally carved into the roots of the trees, into the overgrown bushes and debris of nature, whole cities and towns had been erected of wood and leaves. We were standing on the outer-entrance, the pathway broad and far too large for us as it led down into the village beyond.

Purple mist burst all around us as the world seemed to shrink just a bit. No, not the world — us. Killian had set us back to the size we had been before the hoverflies had appeared. “My bad,” he chuckled to me as he made to pass, two hands pushed into his pockets as he glanced over his shoulder. “Are you coming?”

I wasn’t sure what to say. It was all just a dream.

My frozen state made Killian pause in his strut. He tossed his chin down the roadway as he walked past Shea and Niamh. “You two go on. I’ll catch up with you later.”

They muttered something to one another before rolling their eyes and trotting down the road.

Killian back-tracked until he was at my side. “You wanted to see something magnificent, right?”

With doubt in my eyes, I looked up at him. “Yes.”

“Then, my dear Olivia… Welcome to Choilltean.”

4

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Reluctantly, I followed Killian into the beginning of their woodland village.

Homes were erected on either side of the pathway, carved into trees more accurately sized for our shrunken bodies, dug down into the roots beneath the elms, or simply constructed of chopped bark and strung together with grass and vines. No matter where I looked — high, low, to the side — there were homes. Between each of them and laid randomly throughout the mulched pathway that we walked were twinkling lights.

I was about to ask Killian where they obtained electricity to power such things, when the lights started to move. It wasn’t faulty lines that caused the ethereal, golden glow of them to flicker, it was the wings on the fireflies that buzzed and twitched.

“Fireflies…” I gasped.

Killian paused as I did, the two of us looking at the volume of them that floated from side to side, occasionally settling against a home or tucking tight against one of the trees. When I finally looked at Killian, he had a soft smile on his face.

“Even the fireflies are small?”

He motioned for me to continue walking, and I jogged to keep up with his long strides. “Only if they choose to be.”

“What does that mean?” I asked. But my attention, truthfully, had been stolen by a few pixies who were chatting amongst themselves in the street ahead. Killian took a sharp turn on to an adjacent path, directing our stroll away from the strangers and to the next vibrant street.

“You’ll find a lot of creatures here whose sizes are not what you are used to.”

“Why?”