Page 27 of Wicked Things

I was pretty sure the instrument was called a pan flute. It was handheld and consisted of hollow tubes made of reeds of varying lengths all bound together with twine. Each tube was tuned to a specific pitch, and the musician played it by blowing air directly across the open top edge. The young man playing it was pretty good, and I lay there enjoying the tune, which was something that sounded old and almost mystical—even otherworldly, which of course, I suppose it was.

The young man had dirty-blond hair, soft looking and longish, and a handsome face. He winked at me when he noticed me watching him, and I thought that was a bold move, considering that I was married to his king. Most of the other soldiers were keeping well away from me down the riverbank and were making sure their eyes didn’t stray in my direction or if they did, that they didn’t linger on my body too long. The young man finished his little song and looked over at me with a brilliant smile.

“Did you like my tune, pretty one?” the young man asked and gave me another wink. “Should I play you another one?”

“Why not?” I called back to him, feeling suddenly relaxed and happy. This time it was a livelier tune, and I swayed along with it. It was lovely and almost hypnotic. By the time it ended, I felt loose-limbed and totally relaxed. He finished it with a little musical flourish of notes and smiled at me.

“Why aren’t you swimming like the others?”

“I don’t really feel like swimming tonight.”

“But we’re all going to go diving to see the bottom. Wouldn’t you like to come too?”

That odd, prickly feeling at the base of my spine came back and I shivered. “No,” I said in a firm voice. “I need to go back to the fire.”

“But it’s fun to swim under the stars,” he said, cajoling me now. “Cool and refreshing after this warm, dusty day.” He stood up and laid his flute on the bank and held his hand out to me. Since he was naked, and I was nearly so, I blushed and turned my head away, but he only laughed.

“Come and play with me in the water, sweeting,” he said and this time his voice sounded a bit deeper. More commanding. He held out his hand to me. “Come with me. Don’t you want to feel good?”

I looked back up at his handsome face, and for the first time noticed his eyes, which were an odd shade of amber or was it gold? It was hard to tell in this half-light, but it seemed there was also a slight red cast to them.

“Come with me, I said,” he said again, and this time in an even deeper, more commanding voice. He was getting impatient and frustrated, since I wouldn’t take his hand. Something flared up in his eyes like a flame. A chill ran over me, and I quickly scrambled up to my feet, though not to go with him. Instead, I instinctively backed away a few feet. He began to walk toward me, but for every step he took, I took one back.

His face grew angry and his eyes turned dark red. His face seemed to shimmer and reform in the half-light. It was then that I suddenly knew what he was, and I wanted nothing to do with him. This was a water demon, and I had no idea how I knew that with such complete certainty, but I did. He tried a smile, but he couldn’t seem to hold the shape of it on his face.

“I know what you are,” I told him, spitting out the words with contempt.

“And what am I, halfling boy?”

“You call yourself a water sprite, but you’re nothing but a fucking demon,” I said even louder. “Go back to hell where you belong.”

He didn’t like that much. The thing’s face changed as he grew angry, his skin turning a black-green color, and the hands he still held out toward me slowly curving into razor-taloned claws, like something from a nightmare. He hissed at me, his eyes glowing red. There was little left of the Faery soldier about him.

“Get away from me and these men. We have no bargain with you, unclean spirit,” I shouted at him, and for a fleeting instant, his demon form wavered, showing the handsome young man again.

“You have no claim to me or my shadow,” I said. “I rebuke you and revoke any and all invitations you might have conjured and tricked from these men. I reject you and your satanic power, and every onslaught of the infernal adversary, every legion, every sect and diabolical gathering. Be uprooted and depart. Leave this place and never return. I reject you! Go back to the river and descend into hell. Vade retro, daemon. Vade retro!”

I was as amazed to hear the words pour from my lips as I assume the demon was. I had opened my mouth to tell him to leave again, when the words had bubbled up inside my throat and spilled out from me like I’d been purged of them.

The thing snarled at me one last time, making a hideous face, and then he suddenly vanished. He winked out of sight, like he’d never been there at all. I snatched up my clothes and boots and ran as fast as I could back to our tent where I figured Fionn must be by that time. He was sitting by the fire as I came running up only half-dressed, and with pure panic no doubt written all over my face. He looked alarmed when he saw me, jumping to his feet. He held out his arms to me, and I rushed into them, breathless and shaking.

“What is it?” he asked, his voice harsh and demanding. “What’s happened?”

“A-a demon. Down by the river!” I pointed behind me. “You have to go warn your men! Hurry!”

To his credit, Fionn never questioned me. He simply shoved me toward the tent and yelled out something in his strange Faery language to his men, who looked startled but quickly rallied and began to run after him. I sank down by the fire and shivered for the longest time, though the breeze had died down, and the fire was warm on my skin. I wondered if I’d ever be warm again, though, as I sat there, probably a bit in shock and listening to Fionn and his men thrashing through the underbrush as they looked for the demon, calling back and forth to each other down by the river.

After a while, I pulled my tunic back on, hearing the shouts of the soldiers as they tried to locate the men who’d gone swimming in the river and running along the bank, looking for any sign of them. Many of them had picked up branches of wood and used their Faery magic to light them on fire to use as torches. It was getting very late by this time and really dark. Almost everyone had run down the river to help search, so I felt very alone there as I waited for Fionn to return.

After what seemed like an eternity, I saw him coming back, along with some of his men. He looked sweaty and pale and his face was grim. He came directly to me and sat down beside me, taking my hand in his.

“We lost three men. There’s no sign of them, and their friends said they went in the water to swim. My men are watching to see if the bodies come back up.”

“That could be dangerous for them. Tell them the demon is a liar and not to believe anything he says if he comes to them. Tell them not to listen to his flute. Don’t even talk to him. And…”

“I know, a chuisle. We have a natural affinity for seeing demons. The ones who are missing were drinking too much and so got caught by the nixie. I reminded them of all that and warned them to stop drinking until we leave this place. Only one or two of them remembered seeing the demon on the riverbank at all. I sent them to their tents under guard, and I told them all to be sure and tell the others if they see any sign of him again. They’re still searching. Now,” he said, taking my hand. “Tell me what happened. Tell me everything and don’t leave anything out.”

Chapter Ten