Authors: Melinda Hellert
I look at him.
“OK semi-normal,” he allows. “Besides, you need to get used to the fact that
Faeries
are everywhere, can do anything, and live practically like humans as I’m sure you’ve noticed. Their only downfall is the iron. Considering that this town isn’t too close to any big cities, it’s the ideal spot. So acquaint yourself with the bizarre because that’s your life now. You may as well get used to it.”
I slump in my seat.
“Look, I’m not trying to be mean,” he takes in my distraught expression. “I’m trying to prepare you. I didn’t have anyone to tell me what was normal and what wasn’t for a long time. Not til I met Nyla. So be grateful you have me. Besides, she was only half
Fey
. It’s not that big of a deal.”
“Half
Fey
?” I ask, appalled. “You mean?” I trail off trying not to think too hard how that would be accomplished.
Ew
.
“Sadly, it’s not all that uncommon.”
Lucy returns with our drinks, cutting off any remark I may have had lying in wait. “Are you ready to order?” This time I’m prepared, so I don’t react as badly.
We do. Cunningham’s is known for their awesome pancakes so I get mine with banana slices on them. Maggie gets an omelet and Derek orders a heaping pile of pancakes and a side of bacon.
“You can never have too much bacon,” he says between mouthfuls.
I laugh around a bite of syrup and banana coated goodness. “I don’t know about you, but I definitely could,” I say in all seriousness.
“Oh yeah? Why’s that?”
“Vegetarian,” I admit.
“Really? I would have never pegged you as the type,” he smiles, one corner of his mouth dimpling his tanned cheek.
Maggie elbows me under the table.
“What?” I hiss, turning on her.
She does nothing but smirk at me, looking at Derek.
I roll my eyes. “Whatever,” I mutter.
Derek is puzzled, looking between us. “What’d I miss?”
“Oh nothing,” Maggie sings, going back to her eggs.
We leave.
“Where to, ladies?” Derek asks as we get back in his Jeep. “If you’re not too tired, I know a place we can go for a few hours.”
“Where?” I ask.
“It’s a surprise.”
“And if we
are
too tired?” Maggie inquires.
“Then you can stay in the car and take a nice little nap while Kate and I have all the fun. How’s that sound?”
“As if,” Maggie snorts. “But I’m sure you two wouldn’t mind,” she mutters so only I can hear her over Derek’s music that isn’t all that bad now that I’m used to it.
“Hey Maggie?”
“Yes?” all innocence.
“Shut it.”
“Fine, but you’ll be thanking me later.”
“I doubt that.”
Ten minutes later we’re parked in front of a wide expanse of yellowing grass and trees with dirt paths cutting through here and there for bicyclists and joggers.
“The
park
? This is your big surprise? Talk about a
letdown
,” I grumble.
“Au contraire. This is only part of it. Follow me.”
He takes us down one of the paths leading into the more densely wooded area.
“Now. What do you see?”
“Is that a trick question? Trees. Dirt. Weeds. Grass. You know, things you usually see in a park. Oh look, it’s a squirrel. I’m shaking in my boots.” Maggie snorts.
“Look again. This time, try to let yourself see what’s
really
there. Relax your mind. Let the truth of what’s here flood your senses.”
I close my eyes, take a calming breath, and when I open them I try to truly
see
. Truly conceive the world for what it is. I gasp.
We are surrounded by
Faeries
. Intimidatingly beautiful
Faeries
are everywhere; in trees, waltzing around an entranced teenage boy that was not there before, their moves fluid and vigorous. A figure made entirely of twigs and branches lounges near the base of a trunk sucking on blood red berries, their juices staining its spindly fingers. Pixies and gnomes traipse and flit about with no apparent destination. A blue skinned nixie plucks a robin
midflight
and bites off its head with needle sharp teeth, relishing in its kill as it crunches on its bones. Feathers and blood coats its chin.
I shove my hand in my mouth for fear of letting loose a scream.
Derek squeezes my shoulder reassuringly.
A gasp sounds from my other side as Maggie stops mid stride. “How—”
“Why is that boy here?” I say quietly to Derek.
“A pet, I suppose. They like to keep them young.”
“That's just revolting,” I scrunch up my nose. “Can’t we do anything?”
“I wouldn’t advise it,” he shoots the dancers a disgusted look. “They’d gouge out your eyes quicker than you could get close enough to even
touch
the poor sap. We’ll have to talk to Ceara about it. Come on.”
We follow a trail to a very large clearing, skirting around the assorted
Fey
through the trees.
“Don’t make yourself too conspicuous,” Derek warns as one particular Faery catches my eye and saunters towards us. He grabs my arm and tugs me after him away from the now pouting
Fey
as she sulks back, hissing at him. “Trust me, you don’t want their attention.” He glares at her when she starts coming for me again.
I watch as Maggie plows ahead of us, not even flinching as something similar happens when a male Faery sporting long coppery hair croons in her ear. She sidesteps him and easily moves on.
“How come you’re not babying her?” I ask, miffed.
“Because Margaret can take care of herself rather exceptionally. It’s
you
I need to worry about.”
“Well don’t,” I say, crossing my arms. “I don’t need your help or your chivalry.”
He gives my arm a pull and I flip around to face him. “When are you going to stop this?”
“No clue what you’re talking about,” I mutter.
“That! All of your hostility towards me!”
“Let go of my arm, Derek.”
“No. Not until you answer me. Why do you hate me so much?”
I sigh and rake my free hand through my hair. “I don’t hate you. Don’t give me that look, I don’t. I don’t particularly trust you. But I don’t
hate
you. Now let go.”
He releases me.
“Thank you.”
We find Maggie sitting on a felled tree.
“Took you long enough.”
But I’m not paying attention to her. I’m looking at the huge monster of a house that’s taking up what was just an empty field but when I let my mind relax,
boom
, there it is. It seems more like a castle than any house or mansion. Intricately woven branches make up the entirety of it, even a tower like structure that reigns over the rest. The weird thing is that it is
alive
. Healthy green leaves sprout just as they would from a tree, flower blossoms bloom, and I swear I see a few fruits hanging. It’s like the
world’s
biggest and most diverse tree. There are even windows, perfectly square holes strategically placed well, all over the place. Even in the tower. But there’s no visible door.
As we near it, though, I see a handle protruding from a rectangular outline.
A door perhaps?
Derek reaches out and pulls on it and indeed it swings out revealing a
well-lit
hallway. Birds chirp from somewhere. I cast my eyes skyward to find one but my search is fruitless.
A tiny little man flits over to us, carried on silver wings.
“Hey, Kit, where’s Ceara?”
“Her Majesty is in her throne room,” Kit says. “I would not travel through there now, young master, she is quite busy this morn.”
“Aw, Kit. I’m sure she’ll understand. Much appreciated.”
Kit flutters off. “Tha—”
“No!” Derek’s hand clamps over my mouth before I can finish. “You
never
say thank you to a Faery. You’ll owe them for as long as you live or until they think of a favor they deem good enough for you to be free of them. Like your first born child, or eternal servitude. You do
not
want to be in a
Faeries
debt. Got that?”
I nod, eyes wide with shock and I admit;
fear
. My first born child? What the hell?
“I’m going to let go now.”
“Sheesh!” I grumble. “You could have told me that
before
now. You know, you aren’t a very good teacher.”
“I—”
“Holy cow! I actually have you at a loss for words! Score one for me.” I laugh at his stricken face. “Oh, come on. I’m only kidding.”
He makes as if to punch me in the arm but I scurry away, out of his reach.
Derek shakes his head. “Let’s go see Ceara.”
The throne room is down a flight of stairs and behind ornate double doors sporting two carved faces as big as I am tall, the left one looks old and has many lines etched into its “flesh", the other young and smooth. Their eyes are closed
half-moons
, expressions impassive.
“Morning, Rowan, Penn.” Derek greets them as if they’re old friends.
The faces’ eyes open, revealing glossy onyx orbs. They blink. “Good morn to you master Carson. What brings you down here so early?” the one on the right speaks.
“I wish to speak to her Majesty.”
“Her Majesty has business to attend,” says the old one.
“Aw, Rowan, can’t you let me in? It’ll take but five minutes of her time. I’m sure she won’t mind.”
“I
cannot
do that.”
“How about you, Penn?” Derek appeals to the younger. “Five minutes, that’s all.”
Penn’s eyes narrow at him. “Merely five minutes, and that is it?” the door/man/face asks.
“Yes.”
“All right. But you tortured it out of me,” a wry smile spreads across Penn’s face
“Penn!” Rowan roared indignantly. “She will have your head.”
“Well then she will not have a door to guard her room, now will she?” Penn chortled. “Make haste!” he urges and swings forward to admit us. We step through quickly. I can still hear Rowan’s protests through the thick wood as it closes behind us.