As we continue north, our presence disrupts a cluster of flying insects. Wings similar to that of a
large butterfly, are attached to small ball like bodies, but the truly unique thing about these
insects is their coloration. As they fly in a shifting formation, their wings change colors from
green, like the plants they were resting on, to purples and pinks, creating a distorted image of
what I think is a bird. Maybe this is their way of protecting themselves, making them appear
larger than they are and less like prey. The further we go, the more beautiful everything
becomes.
“You have such a goofy smile right now, I wish you could see yourself.” Iris says with a smile
herself.
Laughing I say, “I guess I’m glad I didn’t bring a mirror then.”
“You just keep smiling because we are going to have fun while we’re here, and if you’re lucky I
might even make you my famous ‘dragon’s breath stew.’” She says proudly
“Dragon’s breath stew? Um, no offense Iris but you sound like a stereotypical witch when you
say things like that.” I can’t help but tease her about being a witch. Over the years it has
become kind of a running joke between us, especially since the humans are so oblivious.
“Haha,” she says, rolling her eyes. “I’ll have you know it’s a family recipe.”
“A family recipe huh? Well I hope I don’t have any family recipes that sound like it came out of
Halloween movie with a green, cauldron stirring, broom flying, children eating…”
“We do NOT eat children! And for the last time, we definitely don’t fly on brooms.” It’s always
fun to get her worked up over the human’s fictional version of her people.
Laughing I say, “But the cauldrons are real?”
She mockingly laughs at our banter. “At least we know you won’t have to sleep in a coffin, and
you won’t need a flea collar.”
“And I’m totally fine when the full moon comes around.” I giggle.
All joking seems to leave her system and she’s avoiding eye contact as she watches the ground
while she walks. “So…what stereotype are we dealing with?”
I knew eventually she’d press the issue, but I had grown used to our easy ‘don’t as don’t tell’
kind of relationship where my lineage is concerned. I had deluded myself into believing it wasn’t
important. Part of me has always worried that if she knew that I’m a Seeker, she won’t help me
or worse she’d turn me over to the wraith or my keeper. The rational side of me knows that both
fears are entirely unfounded, but in the past, I was unable to conquer that fear.
“Nova, you gotta let me in. I can’t help if I don’t at least know who we are looking for.” She tries
to hide the slight tremor in her voice as she quietly says, “you can trust me you know?”
She’s right, I know I can trust her and the only thing keeping me from telling her everything, is
the fear of putting her in harm’s way. If only she could understand that I do not mean to hurt her
with my silence. Maybe it is time. Taking a deep breath, “Ok…when we make camp, we’ll talk
about it.”

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