“What is it?” I can’t see anything amiss.
“Cows,” he whispers in horror.
I crane my neck and peer into the field. “They are right at the other end.”
Mabon doesn’t move.
“They are busy eating grass. They won’t even notice us,” I say.
He continues to stare at them. Like they are terrifying and dangerous beasts. Do they not have cows in the fey home world?
I hoist myself over the stile and step into the field. It’s a few hundred metres to the woods on the other side and the gate that I presume we are heading towards.
I turn around to give Mabon a hand, but I’m just in time to see him flow effortlessly over it. He lands silently and gives me a worried, anxious look. I give him my best reassuring smile and stride confidently forward. If he needs me to protect him from cows, then I am happy to oblige.
Mabon stays close behind me as we make our way across the field. We are about halfway now and the most treacherous thing is the mud.
Suddenly, a deep rumble sound shakes the ground. What the hell is that? I look up. Oh my god. The entire herd of cows are running straight towards us. That’s a lot of cows. And they are a lot bigger than I realised. We are going to be trampled to death.
“Run!” I yell as I reach back and grab Mabon’s hand.
I run as fast as I can. For one heart stopping moment, I slip on the mud and nearly lose my balance, but I manage to stay upright and keep going. Maybe I should release Mabon’s hand and push him in front of me, I’m pretty sure he is far faster than I am.
But the gate is close now. It looks like we are going to make it. I haul myself over it but my foot gets stuck and I fall, landing in a sprawl on my back, on top of my rucksack.
I’m still holding Mabon’s hand and I pull him down with me. He lands on top of me. All the air rushes out of my lungs. Westare at each other. Inches away, the cows huff and puff at the gate. Their hoofs stamp on the ground.
“I told you cows get angry,” Mabon says solemnly.
“You did,” I agree. “I guess they don’t like fey?”
Or maybe cows are always like that. I’m a city boy, what the hell do I know? But he nods, so maybe I am right.
Mabon’s eyes are wide. He is staring at me intently. He is a warm weight on top of me and his lips are inches away. I simply cannot resist. It’s impossible. I lift my head up and close the distance between us.
His lips are so soft. His little moan sinks into my soul and becomes a part of me. He kisses me back with a passion that curls my toes. Kissing Mabon feels so right. It feels like home and I could do it forever.
But we have a long journey ahead of us and enemies to evade. Reluctantly, I break away. He lifts himself off of me with the grace of a dancer, and I haul myself to my feet.
I brush myself off and don’t find any damage. I look at Mabon to check he is okay, and then I gasp.
“Your horns!”
Jet black and gleaming. Curling back against his purple hair. His horns are there as if they were never gone.
A beautiful blush spreads across Mabon’s cheeks and his fingers brush over his horns.
“They are annoying and sometimes uncomfortable, so I don’t always feel like having them.”
I stare at him. “I thought the Resistance took them.” I never knew they were a part of him. I thought they were fake, an ornament that can be taken off and on. Like a crown.
Mabon looks down. “They did. In a way.”
Concern rolls through me, and I place my hand on his shoulder.
“Horns are annoying, and I don’t always use them. That is true,” he insists. “But they are also hard to…” he trails off and pauses. His hands lift up and mime horns emerging from his head. “Manifest? Is that the word? They are difficult to manifest if I am feeling sad.”
I don’t know what to say. I really don’t. I have no words for this. So I pull him into a hug instead. He snuggles into me, and my heart skips with joy. He is feeling better now. Healing from the trauma of what he suffered at the hands of the Resistance. I caused his pain, but I’m also succeeding in making amends.
