The Summer Prince

by Carol Oates

him, wrenching my chin around when Sally turned me back to face her. I resisted the almost overwhelming desire to shout for help. There would be trouble if the elders spotted me.

  “Isn’t that what your daddy calls you, his little princess?” Her taunt was menacing. Sally had never pushed teasing so far.

  Cormac pulled my arms, forcing my shoulder blades closer. I winced at the sharp pain along with the unexpected betrayal from my best friend. Little Princess was a term of endearment and a secret between my dad and me, never spoken outside our small home. It was something I had shared with her in confidence. Tears prickled my eyes, and I blinked them away, refusing to let her see how her words tormented me. My heart thrummed so hard against my ribcage, it felt like a terrified bird, uselessly straining to escape a cage. Sally knew I hated being called princess. Cormac laughed next to my ear, and the ground slipped sideways beneath my feet.

  “What is wrong with you?” I demanded of Sally.

  “He tells her that her real mother was a court Faery, and she was hidden here for her own protection,” Sally mocked, and for an instant I despised her ability to be so beautiful and cruel at the same time. “Where is he now? Oh yeah, that’s right, passed out drunk, just like he is every year.”

  Loathing was quickly replaced by sweeping humiliation, causing tears to flow over my burning cheeks and dribble off of my chin. The constant smacking of wood on pigskin echoed inside my head, mingling with the pounding pressure of my blood.

  Fight back.

  Suddenly I imagined I was spinning, and it was as if the world had morphed into a grotesque impression of itself. I couldn’t breathe, and all around me I imagined people were staring, laughing at my treacherous tears. My body was on fire, my skin prickled, and my vision blurred. I couldn’t focus on anything but the pain in my shoulders and the instinctual, gut-wrenching knowledge that if I didn’t flee immediately, I would die here.

  Sally threw her head back and laughed manically. All around her, the faces of the people encircling her turned to mist and dissipated before my eyes. I heard the music once more and the jovial whoops and cheers, the chattering, and thumping of boots on the earth welcoming the coming summer. My heart stilled, and my lungs filled easily. The only thing that remained was Sally’s laughter, Cormac’s hands, and the voice in the back of my head telling me to run. Then I saw him.

  The boy with the blue-black hair was watching from the path at the edge of the forest, his fingers clawing into the tree. He was radiant, even in the darkness. A sort of ambient golden glow quivered in the air around him before he vanished into the shadows. I heard the voice in my head again.

  Run.

  This time I didn’t hesitate. I didn’t pause to think about what I was doing or to consider if I was running into more danger than I was running from. I raised my foot and slammed it down hard on Cormac’s instep. Like a wounded animal. he let out a growl right next to my ear, but his arms loosened enough for me to wrench myself away from him. I ran as fast as possible toward the trees, never looking back. The air whipping past my face cooled as I moved away from the crowds and the fires.

  I caught my toe in the grass and fell crashing to the ground. Something hot penetrated the soft flesh below my thumb, but I didn’t stop because I could hear Sally still jeering me and Cormac howling swear words in my direction. It took longer than I could have ever dreamed possible to cover the short distance to the shelter of the forest. I kept going, stumbling mind­lessly over roots, mulched-up dried leaves, and twigs, while batting away foliage that lashed at my face. Everything blurred again, and painfully sharp breathing blistered my chest. My heart and my footfalls were all I could hear before I finally ended up stretched out on the damp forest floor. I turned my head to the side, spluttering leaf-strewn hair from my lips, and then just lay there. The ground was soft, apart from something sharp rubbing against the bottom of my rib cage with each gasping inhalation. The ground felt cool too, and I allowed it to comfort my overheated body.

  None of it made sense. I couldn’t fathom what happened to make Sally act the way she did or why my thoughts took such a bizarre route. Sally was my friend; she crossed a line, but it was ludicrous to think my life was in danger from her.

  When my breathing eventually settled, I lifted my hand to wipe the grime and tears from my face only to be accosted by the sickly sweet fra­grance of fresh blood. There was an inch-long shallow gash in my hand that must have happened when I fell. Strangely, I didn’t feel it until I moved to pull my legs under me so I could sit up and inspect it. A searing pain shot up my arm, making me yelp. Immediately I heard wood snapping, softly as a twig stomped on by a small animal. But it was enough to remind me I wasn’t alone. My heart began racing at twice its normal speed when I realized it wasn’t an animal.

  “Who’s there?” I called out, shuffling backward, cradling my injured hand to my chest until I felt rough bark against my spine. It was solid…reas­suring, something dependable after all the craziness this night had brought. The thick canopy of leaves and branches overhead blocked out the moon and scattered stars. I couldn’t hear anything but the rustling of the leaves, sounding as if the trees were whispering to each other. I suddenly felt like an uninvited guest for the second time tonight.

  “Who’s there?” I called again. Already my stomach was twisting into a tight knot. I knew exactly who it was.

  It was probably the stupidest thing I had ever done. What kind of idiot runs into a forest after dark, especially knowing there is a strange guy skulking around in the shadows?

  “I’ll scream,” I warned him, bending down to grope inconspicuously in the mulch. I needed to find something sharp, maybe a broken piece of branch, to use as a weapon.

  “Don’t,” a disembodied voice called back.

  Instantly the hairs on my arms rose as a shiver rushed over me. His voice, with its crystal clear tone… I had heard it before. His voice had called me here. “You’ll bring her straight to us.”

  My eyes slowly adapted to the dimness. I was convinced what ability they were still lacking was being made up for by the rest of my senses. My good hand scrambled over something pointed, and I quickly curled my fingers around it: a dried out stick, thick and a bit gnarled, but otherwise perfect for a weapon. My ears could even pick out the hushed sound of his easy breathing over my own drumming heart, and I swallowed thickly. The air was perfumed with a fragrance I didn’t recognize. I could taste it on the back of my tongue. It was warm, almost spicy…heat. I could taste heat. How is that possible?

  He stepped out from behind a tree several feet away, and I could just about see the outline of his body. An uprooted trunk and a good distance of air still separated us. He was bigger up close — a lot bigger — and he didn’t move like the boys in school. Some of them had shot up, developing muscles where they hadn’t had any before. A couple of the boys began to grow facial hair, thinking a few downy spare whiskers on their chin would make them look manly. It didn’t. They were awkward and ungraceful, as if their body had grown too fast and their coordination still hadn’t caught up.

  The boy before me was different; he moved like a ghost making no noise at all. I wondered now if he broke the twig on purpose to announce himself. I couldn’t see his face clearly — along with the darkness he was focused on the black forest floor. He moved sideways rather than toward me, although I tightened my hold on the weapon in my hand regardless. I held my other hand close to my chest, and my fingers were growing numb from the lack of blood flow.

  “You don’t need that; I won’t hurt you,” he told me in a voice no louder than a whisper. Bizarrely it was bell-clear, as if his voice was coming from inside me.

  I swallowed hard again, ignoring that my mouth was as dry as paper and doing my best to silently creep to a standing position against the tree behind me. My legs were weak from running, and they felt dislocated and tender. I wanted to sit down again. I wanted him to leave me alone, giving me time to trawl through my thoughts.

  He moved again, and
when I moved too, I staggered slightly. Blood flowed in a small, steady trickle over my wrist, pooling in my elbow joint before dripping to the ground like a leaky faucet. His eyes flashed for the briefest instant in my direction, forcing me to consider that I might in fact be crazy after all. Maybe my dad had gone insane with grief and his mad­ness had rubbed off on me like a summer cold.

  His eyes…fire and water whirled in his irises. They glowed, a subtle incandescence of swirling blues, ambers, and whites, all beneath a glassy sheet.

  Shock rocketed through me, and my breath whooshed out in a vicious gasp as I slammed back against the tree. I dropped the piece of wood from my hand. How could it possibly harm the creature before me? I groped behind me at the tree, not knowing why, but I kept doing it, even though I was sure it was not my way out of here. He looked away, shielding his eyes with his hand.

  “I didn’t mean to frighten you. I’m sorry.”

  “Sorry?” I echoed, even though I was sure I was here alone now. I felt certain I had gone mad, because anything else was inconceivable. The only thing that felt real about the immediate past was the pain in my hand where my skin had split open.

  “You have believed in me your entire life. Was it a lie? Now that you are faced