How is this possible?
I had just walked between all those tumbling lovers, the bonfires dotting the hillside in a mirror of the stars above. I should have seen their glow between the trees of the forest. Yet it was so dark, as though a door had already shut behind me and closed me off from the mortal world.
From the corner of my eye, I caught a brief flash of light, and I heard a tinkling as of bridle bells. I straightened, scraping the hair from my eyes as I peered into the wildwood before me.There. A tree stood with lights dancing around it, hollowed out by lightning to make a doorway of sorts, or was it a tunnel? For not even my fae sight could see through to the other side.
Anticipation fluttered in my belly, and a sense of rightness settled upon me, like finally trying on a garment that fit.
We are a people of thresholds and borders.I must pass between to find my way home.
I entered the tree.
It stretched out before me, much deeper than it had appeared from the outside, the walls alternately solid and made of mist, nacreous with a pale luster that came from no source of light I saw. Faces formed within the walls; horned faces, green-skinned, a hideous goblin with a cap of dripping red. I recoiled from them, then flushed with embarrassment.
I have been among the humans too long. These are my people, my folk.In time, they might even come to seem lovely to me.
The tunnel appeared to go on forever, dipping slowly downwards as if beneath a hill I had not seen. Hours might have passed while I wandered through, until at last I could see the opening at the end of the tunnel, and beyond it, glimpses of a bonny glen. The sky there was blue, too dark for daylight but not the full black of night, as in the realm of man behind me. The ground lay thick with green, and radiant flowers curled around a path of silver moonlight, though no moon shone above. In the distance stood curling towers that could be none other than the palace of the Faery Queen.
Some impossible memory sang in me, rang in me. I knew that place. How did I know that place? Was it a landmark known to all the fae, or something more? It called to me, far away as it was. I reached out a hand as if to touch it.
As if it were mine.
From behind me came the shout of a mortal man.
Heed it not,said the whispering voices around me.
Heed it not,my inner fae echoed.Find your way home.
I could not ignore the cry. I had recognized the voice.
Thomas.
Close your ears to it. If I must leave the world of man, then no man could claim my attention. I must shut myself off.
Come to us,the voices said again, drowsily seductive, yet somehow insistent.Return and right what is gone wrong.I felt their pull, the wisp of a breeze against my clothing and skin. Around me, the tree began to close.
Thomas cried out again, somewhere deep in the forest. His voice spoke fear, his voice spoke anguish. I closed my eyes, covered my ears, but I could not move forward.
I cannot ignore his pain.
Mairi Grieve’s daughter—nay, her prentice—could not ignore his pain.
The night was young, I told myself, hours before midnight yet, and the Veil would not close until the dawn. I had time. Opening my eyes, I stared out at Faery: the towering spires of the palace, the lush green promise of the magical glen.
Yours,cried the voices of the fae, the voice of Faery itself.Claim it.
Slowly, I turned away.
I faced the mortal land I meant to be leaving. Apparently, it was not done with me yet.
A third time, Thomas’s cry rang through the forest. A wolf howled, high and lonesome, piercing through the darkened woods.
I froze in place, feet rooted to the forest floor. My heart thudded, and the hairs on my arms prickled; worry churned in my belly’s pit.
How can I fight a wolf? I have no bow, am no huntsman. I haven’t even a knife.
And then again:How can I leave Thomas in the forest to die?
The howl persisted. A horrific wind rose and shook the tree around me. On that wind I heard ghastly whispers. I could not understand them, and if I listened hard enough, they would drive me mad.
