CHAPTER 14: On the path to discovery...

Wynter spent the next week searching for the elusive evidence of a promise that her Nan and other women of her family made to the fairies long before she came into the world....
“What makes you so sure that it was telling you the truth?” asked Shannon in a huff as a dust cloud covered her in a thick layer of grime.
Wynter didn’t bother to look up at her as she answered “Because fairies can’t lie”. They were in the attic combing through the enormous mess of boxes, trunks and other piles of junk in the vain hope of finding something that would give them a clue to what was happening around them. The number of unexplainable deaths was racking up and people were taking notice. She had to figure this out and as quickly as possible and preferably before Tanner.....
“We’re getting nowhere!” exclaimed Shannon in frustration, her lower lip jutting out as she pouted.
“You don’t have to help” said Wynter and secretly hoped that this time Shannon would go away as she was proving to be more of a hindrance than anything. It was not that she wasn’t grateful for the help no matter how begrudgingly given; but she was certain that only she would know what it was that she was looking for . In a way it was creating double the work for she would have to wait for Shannon to leave so that she could go through those boxes without insulting her and to make certain nothing was over looked.
“Y’knows we could just ask...” began Shannon but Wynter cut her off.
“No”.
“But ...”
“Shannon”
“Fine...I just don’t see what the big deal is asking Tanner ‘stead of getting ourselves all dirty looking for something that might not exist” grumbled Shannon as she moved on to the next box.
It was an argument that they had been having for a week and one that even Rayne sided with Shannon on. Wynter however wanted nothing to do with Tanner. Rathnait insulted her intelligence and Wynter was determined to prove the fey wrong. She would figure this out on her own without his help.

The sound of footsteps on the stairs broke the uncomfortable silence between them. “Hey; you need more bread” stated Rayne as he finished limping to the top step. “Can’t make any sandwiches...What’s going on? You two look...pissed.” He looked back and forth from one clouded face to the other.
“Well I fer one need a break!” announced Shannon getting to her feet. “And a shower” she added looking down at her grimy clothes in distaste. “Want to go get some food?” she asked Rayne not even looking at Wynter. Rayne did another double check and cleared his throat hesitantly.
“Good idea...You can get me a slice of veggie pizza or whatever while you’re gone. I just want to finish up these boxes for today” said Wynter giving her brother an out; she didn’t feel like fighting at the moment and sure as hell wasn’t willing to drag him into the middle of it.
She didn’t even look up as the couple left. The sound of their laughter out in the yard drifted up to her and she tried not to curse them for it. The truth was she missed Tanner...or what she thought was Tanner...It couldn’t all be a lie, could it? She wondered and as she did her fingers brushed a long narrow box within the one she was methodically going through and she felt a tingle race up her spine.
Holding her breath she carefully lifted it out and placed it on her lap. The top was so covered in dust it looked black but unlike the other contents of the box it had no mildew upon it. The weight was more then she expected; heavier. Curious now she ran her thumb nail along the tape that sealed it shut and found it easy to lift off. No longer reverent in her movements she flipped the top open and reached inside to pull it out....
The metal was cool against her skin despite the warm temperature of the attic. Wynter marvelled at it. Made of silver it was a miniature ornate chest covered in complicated knots and fluid loops- the type of pictures that she had only seen in art history books or on internet websites touting true ‘Celtic charm’...The tingling sensation grew in her fingers so that her whole body felt it.
In contrast to the cardboard box that had held it, no dust, no dirt not even a trace of tarnish marred its smooth surface. It looked brand new. Fingers trembling she lifted the lid; the hinges made no sound nor resisted the movement. The inside was lined with red velvet and nestled in the middle was a scroll bound by a leather throng.
She ran her hands over it lightly...the heat was inexplicable beneath her finger tips....the scroll was made of something other than paper...a hide maybe?
She inched the throng off and gently unfurled the scroll. The writing was fluid and feminine; all curls and loops. She squinted at the tiny neat writing but soon discovered it was neither the age nor her eyesight that was preventing her from reading it. It was in a different language all together; one which Wynter was not familiar with but recognized all the same.
Giving a cry of frustration she now knew what Rathnait was alluding to....only a fey could read what was written and no matter what amount of intelligence she had she could not change her race......