It had been some time since Katt had been reported dead. While Rhi wanted to honor her friend's life, she couldn't get the image of the last time she saw Katt out of her memory. Her face had held a look of pain and, perhaps, sorrow. It was clear to Rhi that Katt still harbored feelings toward Leo. Maybe harbored was a poor choice of words, but wasn't a harbor a sheltered place for ships? Then there was the matter of having never seen the body or the spirit. Too many people in Rhydin had died and returned. Those that were native to the land were often skeptical about who was or was not truly dead.
In the Marketplace, Rhiannon paused at what had been the Bon Bon Boutique. Not so very long ago, the place had thrived with life and happiness. Now, it was bleak. Wood splintered under her boots as she searched for a place to plant the bush of crimson roses. In the back, somewhere in the trees, where the Fright Night festivities had been held, Rhi set down the bucket that held the flowers. Leather gloves were tugged on and she unfolded the shovel that had accompanied her on many a camping trip. With one foot, she pushed the shovel into the ground and dug a hole about a foot deep.
"Oh, Katt, why?" she murmured as she knelt to pull the rose bush from its watery home. Carefully, Rhi buried the roots and root ball under the softened soil. "I know I should have written that letter, just like you said. I can still write it, I'm alive to do it, but would it be right? I don't know anymore." She sprinkled the water around around the freshly dug soil and smoothed it with her fingers. "You should have told him. He had a right to know. Still has a right to know." Her eyes closed as the tears began to well up. "You shared something good. Whatever it was, it was good. Does anyone have right to keep something away from the rightful owner?" She stood poured the remaining water over the newly plant roses. "You could have given back something that was lost."
Rhiannon folded the shovel and stuck it in the bucket. Her hands were wiped haphazardly over her jeans. She was fairly well hidden from view, but she turned her head to look over her shoulder to make sure she was alone. She raised her hands, palms outward toward the flowers. The magic of her mother's people, the faire folk, flowed through her and brought the roses into full and everlasting bloom. Any rose picked from it and planted, would blossom into a plant that would thrive in all seasons. As the rosebuds opened to the rays of sunlight that filtered through the trees and cloudy winter sky, Rhiannon beseeched the Lord of the Underworld to set a watch for the soul of Katt Rhysata and guide her safely. For a moment, she wondered what the cost of that request would be. There was always price and a debt of nearly twenty years had yet to be settled with Hades.
"Now, about that letter." She brushed some hair out of her eyes leaving a streak of dirt against her cheek. "I can write it, but the sending might prove difficult. When The Fates cause people to cross paths, there's a reason. Things are in the hands of the sisters, now. One day, paths might cross again." While Katt would have known what she meant, the odds are anyone that might have heard her would have been lost. When she got home, she'd begin that letter ... written in Greek.
In the Marketplace, Rhiannon paused at what had been the Bon Bon Boutique. Not so very long ago, the place had thrived with life and happiness. Now, it was bleak. Wood splintered under her boots as she searched for a place to plant the bush of crimson roses. In the back, somewhere in the trees, where the Fright Night festivities had been held, Rhi set down the bucket that held the flowers. Leather gloves were tugged on and she unfolded the shovel that had accompanied her on many a camping trip. With one foot, she pushed the shovel into the ground and dug a hole about a foot deep.
"Oh, Katt, why?" she murmured as she knelt to pull the rose bush from its watery home. Carefully, Rhi buried the roots and root ball under the softened soil. "I know I should have written that letter, just like you said. I can still write it, I'm alive to do it, but would it be right? I don't know anymore." She sprinkled the water around around the freshly dug soil and smoothed it with her fingers. "You should have told him. He had a right to know. Still has a right to know." Her eyes closed as the tears began to well up. "You shared something good. Whatever it was, it was good. Does anyone have right to keep something away from the rightful owner?" She stood poured the remaining water over the newly plant roses. "You could have given back something that was lost."
Rhiannon folded the shovel and stuck it in the bucket. Her hands were wiped haphazardly over her jeans. She was fairly well hidden from view, but she turned her head to look over her shoulder to make sure she was alone. She raised her hands, palms outward toward the flowers. The magic of her mother's people, the faire folk, flowed through her and brought the roses into full and everlasting bloom. Any rose picked from it and planted, would blossom into a plant that would thrive in all seasons. As the rosebuds opened to the rays of sunlight that filtered through the trees and cloudy winter sky, Rhiannon beseeched the Lord of the Underworld to set a watch for the soul of Katt Rhysata and guide her safely. For a moment, she wondered what the cost of that request would be. There was always price and a debt of nearly twenty years had yet to be settled with Hades.
"Now, about that letter." She brushed some hair out of her eyes leaving a streak of dirt against her cheek. "I can write it, but the sending might prove difficult. When The Fates cause people to cross paths, there's a reason. Things are in the hands of the sisters, now. One day, paths might cross again." While Katt would have known what she meant, the odds are anyone that might have heard her would have been lost. When she got home, she'd begin that letter ... written in Greek.