“¿Daire, ya te has lavado?” Daire, have you washed up yet? Maya asked me as she emerged from the home’s only bedroom. “We need to talk.”

“Deberías haberlo hecho antes de venir a cenar. Tú también, Daire.” You should have done that before you came out for dinner. You too, Daire. Maya’s grandmother, Mercedes, clicked her tongue at both of us.

“En mi defensa, Maya aún dormía y el único baño está dentro del dormitorio.” In my defense, Maya was still asleep and the only washroom is inside the bedroom. I stood up from my chair and patted Mother’s shoulder, muttering a reassurance in Aos Si that I would return soon. The translation charm on Maya didn’t seem to work inside her dream world.

“¡Vamos, vamos!” Hurry, hurry! Maya’s grandmother made the reprimand with a pleased smile. Shortly after I woke, Jennifer and Mercedes had greeted me in English with Jennifer socializing more. Then I caught the elder matron of the household muttering to herself in Spanish the same way I spoke to myself in Aos Si around Maya. Mercedes had taken over the conversation shortly after I revealed that I spoke her mother tongue. “Necesito que preguntes qué hace tu madre con su pelo. Es bonita.” I need you to ask what your mother does with her hair. It’s beautiful.

I left the small dining table and followed Maya into the bedroom.

“Why are they together?” Maya spoke in a hushed whisper as she jabbed her finger toward our loved ones on the other side of the door. “What the hell is going on?”

“I can only figure that Aengus has sealed us within a dream construct of his own making. He perfected the technique by using it as a merciful punishment for worthy enemies. He’s never demonstrated one before, but this seems to fit his description.” My attention slipped away from her toward the common area. Conversing with Mother and Maya’s family was the best sort of distraction from the weakness burdening my limbs and the knowledge that my closest uncle meant to kill me. “He must have manufactured it to fill our hearts’ desires.”

“They’re not real, are they?” Maya asked, her expression sinking.

“No. They’re convincing counterfeits weaved from our memories.”

“Is there any way out?” Maya choked on the words as they left her mouth.

“Not by my power.” I ran my hand over the ivy leaves in my hair, shriveled and brown like the remnants of my magic.

“That means you’re…” Maya trailed off.

“It is only a matter of time.” I settled into a disinterested monotone as if I observed the events from afar. “Uncle Aengus will erect a grand pyre in my gardens and the entire family will gather round to watch as my body burns after the election. Aunt Brigid will be puzzled since she didn’t know about any of this. More than likely Bodb will blame it on my human blood. Father will put Mother back into seclusion as she grieves. I fear she will be beyond help and all of the progress we made with her will be for naught. I’m not sure what will become of you. At best Aengus will keep you caged here with my specter, asleep for the rest of eternity. I’m truly sorry I couldn’t keep my promise.”

“Come on, we can’t give up that easy.”

“What do you propose that we do instead?”

“You’re the magic brains of this operation. How would you make it?”

“Not every spell is so easy to unravel.” It would be so much easier to go back into the refuge of those pleasant memories and forget. Still, my mind rose to the challenge as it sorted through what such a construct would need. “Aengus taught the value of simplicity. One would need the extent of his magic to supply a glamour this massive and convincing. The simplest source would be leeching off of your memories for our environment and using both of us for the copies of our loved ones. Every spell must have a loophole to balance it, though. His style is hiding that in plain sight and making it something the target would never accomplish.”

“So he made a way out and put a heavy rock in front it that we can’t push by ourselves. That means we have to think of a weirder way to move it?”

“It needs more poetry than that.” I tapped my chin. Aengus’ loopholes had unique meaning behind them. It pleased the magic best.

“Poetry?” Maya bit her lip piercing as she followed along. “Kid stories and fables teach a lesson or have something that comes back and bites someone’s ass. Like that?”

“This entire construct seems to center around you even though it was meant to stop me.” Something about her “teaching a lesson” comment struck a chord. “That doesn’t seem quite right, don’t you think?”

“Si quieres seguir hablando, puedo dar tus cuencos a los gatos callejeros.” If you want to keep talking, I can give your bowls to the alley cats. Mercedes called.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

“Let’s finish talking about this after dinner.” Maya opened the door without hesitation.

“Maya, she’s not actually here.” I grabbed her forearm, stopping her midway.

“I know.”

“You don’t have to go in there.”

“Daire?” Mother’s uncertain voice called. I found myself leaning toward it.

“You sure about that?” Maya asked.

I didn’t have had a fitting answer for her. We went back into the dining area. I took the seat next to my mother. Maya took hers between Mercedes and Jennifer.

* * *

Maya’s mother suggested playing a game called Rummy using their deck of cards with a winged child riding atop a bicycle. The five of us gathered round the dining table and I interpreted Jennifer’s refresher of how to play into my mother’s native Gaelic, then the game was on. Maya’s mother conducted herself like Father, aggressively grabbing at any points she could within the discard pile no matter how large it made her hand. Somehow she emptied them all on the table before anyone else could put down more than a few cards. Mercedes chided Jennifer to play nicer with my mother and I. Maya’s mother still reigned victorious for that game and the one right after.

Sunlight shone through the window as we played and never darkened with time’s passing. The warmth of their company comforted my weariness enough that I could stay awake. If I gave into that urge to sleep, would death overtake me?

The sky changed as bloated storm clouds filled its vibrant blue hue. Thunder shook the walls and Maya ran for the window, taking her mother and grandmother by their wrists. The family of three crowded around the transparent glass and Mother and I funneled behind them to see what the sudden excitement was about. The rain in the distance fell first as a thick blue-gray mist merging into a massive curtain. The droplets tapped against the window pane and gray fell over the street below with it’s speeding cars and decorative palm trees.

“There’s the angel shower, sweetie.” Jennifer nudged her daughter with her elbow. “Washing everything clean.”

“You sure it isn’t God peeing all over us?” Maya smirked and her mother sighed.

“Whatever it is, God made it and it’s beautiful,” Mercedes said in her accented English as she rubbed her hands together. “No importa que este clima haga que me duelen las articulaciones.” It doesn’t matter that this weather makes my joints ache.

“Why all this commotion over the rain?” I asked.

“Maya cried and fussed all the time back when Maya was Little Mad May,” Jennifer explained. “Whenever it started raining, I took her to the window to watch and it calmed her right down.”

“Even after she moved in when I adopted Jenny, she stared out of this same window until the storm stopped,” Mercedes reflected. “I picked her up and joined her as long as she wanted.”

“Now when the rain starts we drop everything and watch for a few minutes.” Maya’s eyes shone from the added moisture in them. She wiped it away with the heel of her hand. “You know, sappy family crap.”

“Y mientras llueva, no necesitamos comprar ninguna de esas fuentes de piedra tontas.” And as long as there’s rain, we don’t need to buy any of those silly rock fountains. Maya’s grandmother rubbed her lower back and grunted. “I need to lay down. Too much standing. Take care of company while I nap.”

Maya nodded and kissed her grandmother’s cheek before Mercedes withdrew to the couch. Both Maya’s mother and mine exchanged a scheming look. Jennifer tapped Mother’s arm and mimed playing more with the cards. Mother scurried back to the table, arm in arm with the shorter woman. That left Maya and I by ourselves.

“Shall we continue watching this rather ordinary display, Little Mad May?” I came up beside her.

“You’re lucky. Not even Nate and Nico know that nickname.” She side-stepped to give me more room in front of the window. “And it’s more than watching. Haven’t you ever closed your eyes and listened to rain?”

“I have never experienced true rain before.” I leaned with her against the sill. “Only when Uncle Aengus altered Bri Leith’s weather for the sake of a jest. All things considered, it’s difficult to be fond of it at the moment.”

“Well my rain is better ‘cause it’s based on the real stuff.” Maya blocked my view with her hand. “Close your eyes a sec and listen.”

I did as instructed and waited through a moment of repetitive, muffled rapping. The random rhythm made no music and my patience ran thin until I peeked out one eye at Maya.

Maya had narrowed her eyes, the dark circles under them made softer by natural shadows. Her subtle smile lended her round profile a heart-shaped curve. It was a serene expression that didn’t stretch her face into extravagant wrinkles or show a slip of teeth. Pure peace poured into her slouching shoulders and sprawled fingers. She glowed brighter in that storm than any creature of the Aos Si.

If I could preserve that contentment and watch it unfold, I would be satisfied. The fondness that blossomed in my chest felt as if I had touched her happiness and soaked in some for myself.

Then it hit me: that was the lesson, the impossible task I couldn’t accomplish. The illusionary construct around us was anchored to Maya because she collected the treasures. To free myself from the High King’s control, I had to kill her. Aengus must have made his trap parallel that. I could either kill Maya and try to save myself by killing my mother, or accept a quiet death trapped with her and very skilled imitations of our loved ones.

My uncle knew me far too well.

I shifted my weight and my smallest finger grazed Maya’s. Her touch reignited the brazier in my chest. I couldn’t foster those tender emotions much longer, yet I knew I shouldn’t burden Maya with them when she harbored the same feeling for my sister. Perhaps Father could somehow take mercy on Riona, and Maya might still live with her as she wanted. That was the best outcome I could ask for now.

“Any luck thinking of a way out of here?” Maya asked as she blinked up at me.

I nodded.

“And?”

“Severing the anchor, as I suspected.” I focused on the rain behind the window pane. “Killing you.”

“You can’t do it.” Maya flinched, breaking the meditative trance the dreary weather had cast. “Can you?”

“Never.”

“I’m sorry.” She set her hand on mine and that earlier jolt when our fingers brushed intensified.

“No need. You’re why I was never alone in any of this.” I moved our hands from the sill and held on. “Thank you.”

Maya opened her mouth, then closed it as if unsurety tied her tongue. Her meaningful silence lasted for a few moments more. I took in her face, her full mouth. Temptation guided me to swipe her hair from her forehead and let my thumb linger against her temple longer than it should. I swallowed and found myself leaning into her before I could think better of it.