Genn laughed. “You humans always doubt our magic. But I didn’t think you of all people would be one to doubt the power of the old ways. You who have seen them firsthand.”
“It seems I have a lot of doubts lately.”
“The wedding?”
“How did you—?” But Genn gave him a look like,what did I just say?And Keir stopped himself. “Yes, the wedding.”
Genn flitted to take a seat in the horse’s mane. The horse stirred but did not startle, another effect of the fairy’s magic, perhaps.
“How could you doubt the one that led you from the dark corners of your own mind?”
“I don’t doubt Alison. I doubt myself.”
Genn nodded sagely. “Fair. But rather than doubt yourself, perhaps you should just try harder. If you’re worried about failing to do something, perhaps just do it. If you’re worried about doing something you shouldn’t, perhaps don’t.”
Keir considered whether to brush the fairy off his horse and ride on. “Great advice. Why didn’t I think of that?”
Genn laughed. “You misunderstand me. I’m not telling you to leave Alison or that she would be better off without you. I’m telling you that I think you are fully capable of being who she needs you to be. Love is a choice you make. Choose her, each and every day, but don’t forget yourself. Find the balance. Sometimes it will be easy. Sometimes it will be hard. If I thought you were incapable, I would tell you so.”
Keir couldn’t decide whether to be comforted by the words or disturbed by how much the fairies seemed to know of him and Alison despite only having met once before. But heeding the fairy’s advice, for Alison’s sake, he chose comfort. “Thank you. I’ll think on what you’ve said.”
“Oh, and if you’ve ever gone and made a right mess of it, ask her to dance. There’s no way she could stay angry with you long if you’re dancing.”
The fairy stood and stretched its back and wings, then flitted away, following the fairy fire into the woods on the other side of the road.
“Will you come to the wedding?” asked Keir just before they left sight. “Alison would want me to ask, at least.”
“Of course,” said Genn as the fairy fire flickered, vanishing from sight.
“No, no, no,” said Willow. “Try again.”
“Willow, I’m not a writer. I’m not even much of a talker. I don’t know how I’m meant to do this.”
Keir sat at his desk surrounded by crumpled up pieces of paper and scratched out lines. He’d been at it since the cat had woken him at midday with news of Alison’s finalized vows.
Vows that she had apparently written herself.
“She wanted it to be a surprise, but I thought you’d be embarrassed if you showed up empty handed. Since I’ve heard hers, I can listen to yours and let you know if they work together.”
Which was thoughtful of the cat—she was right that Keir would have been embarrassed to have to read the standard vows after Alison had poured her heart out—but Alison was a poet. Words were her gift.
Keir wasn’t even great at saying comforting things to his patients. In fact, on more than one occasion since their return, he’d wished she could join him again on his house calls, and not just for the pain relief her magic was able to provide.
But he didn’t want to keep her from the wedding planning or to monopolize the last of her time as a single woman, and so he’d made do with his own inadequate faculties.
Those same faculties were proving equally inadequate in describing his feelings for her.
“I promise to love you in good times and bad—”
“See, that’s what I’m saying. Do you really want to focus on bad times at the wedding?”
“But that’s traditional. The standard vows have a similar bit.”
“So it’s not very original, is it?”
Keir sighed. “Just give me a hint about what she’s written.”
“Try to be more specific,” said Willow. “Less platitudes, more details. Let the audience fill in the generalities.”
