by Nicola Shill
Lorcan felt at peace here. Most fae didn’t venture out this far. It was too exposed and dangerous. That meant Lorcan was virtually guaranteed solitude. With his aura visible, there was a very great risk of being spotted by a human, but Lorcan was unconcerned with that possibility. One might almost say he was deliberately courting danger, as if he had a perverse need to prod the beast that took his parents – if one was game to say that to Lorcan. So far no one had been.
The moonlight made the bay shimmer eerily. The water undulated and sighed. Lorcan stared, unseeing, across the bay and thought about Cassandra. There was no point trying not to think about her; no point pretending it would even be possible to erase her from his mind. Somehow, she had slipped past his emotional fortification. Her dissimilarity from fae girls called to him. For starters, she was oblivious to his charms. She didn’t preen and giggle, or turn shy. She didn’t say what she thought he wanted to hear. In fact, they didn’t seem to be able to agree on anything. Every time they spoke to one another, they ended up arguing. She had a lot of spunk, and damn it, he had to respect her for that.
He kicked at the sand and watched the grains tumble down the slope. He needed his head read, as humans would say. How was mutual animosity preferable to blind adoration? It was just his luck that when, at long last, he found a girl who interested him, she had to be human. What irony there was in that.
He needed to go and check on her at the revelry. He hated that he felt so protective towards her, but he couldn’t resist. He was inexorably drawn back to his observation point in the tree.
The beautiful dress she was wearing tonight, intricately knitted from spider’s web, carried Iznaya’s hallmark. He thought he remembered seeing it before. Was it the night he’d dragged her away from the revelry and tried to intimidate her? He preferred not to dwell on the recollection.
He watched Cassandra perform her nightly ritual. She started off in Tani’s group, trying to look interested for a while, then began to circle the fire, stopping at food, drinks and the musicians. She had it down pat. Only a keen observer would notice she wasn’t enjoying herself.
After her second cycle, Lorcan couldn’t stand it anymore. He pushed off the branch he was sitting on and glided down to the ground in front of her. She was startled for a moment but quickly concealed it. She was becoming as good at putting on a social mask as he was. What a great pair they made.
Lorcan took her hand and felt her body brace.
‘Dance with me,’ he said in a low, quiet voice.
‘Oh … ahhh … phew!’ She fanned her face with her hand, pretending to be hot. ‘I’m just taking a break.’
‘You never dance.’
‘How would you know?’
‘I’ve been watching you.’
All pretence of joviality dropped off her face to be replaced by mortification that her pathetic ruse had been exposed. It made him all the more determined to win her trust.
‘Dance with me,’ he repeated.
‘I don’t want to, Lorcan. Please don’t do this.’ She tried to pull her hand away, but he wouldn’t release it.
‘Come on Cassandra, you can’t go on like this.’
‘Yes I can.’
‘Why are you so stubborn?’
‘Why are you such a bully?’
They stood, glaring at each other. Now, this is more normal, Lorcan thought.
Cassandra added more quietly, ‘I thought you hated me.’
‘No, it’s you who hates me.’ He watched Cassandra struggle, torn between agreement and denial. She settled for silence. They stood for a few moments more: opponents facing off.
It was Lorcan who broke the deadlock. ‘So, are we going to dance?’
‘I don’t know how to do this,’ Cassandra gestured to the dancers with a weak sweep of her free arm, ‘and I can’t fly.’
‘Don’t be such a wimp.’ He pulled on her hand until she stepped towards him, allowing him to slide his other hand around her waist. She left her free arm dangling uselessly to her side for a few seconds, but apparently realised how ridiculous it looked so rested it as lightly as possible on his upper arm instead. His wimp comment seemed to have dealt with her nerves at least.
Lorcan discovered that Cassandra had not been modest when she’d said she didn’t know how to dance. She had no idea. Luckily, he did. He held her close and steered her, spinning and swirling, around the fire. Cassandra started to loosen up and flow with him. He knew they looked good, it didn’t even matter that they didn’t fly. The attention they were drawing would raise Cassandra’s social standing at least a little bit.
But there was some attention they could have done without. As they danced past Chayton’s group, Lorcan heard Chayton boast to his friends, ‘Cassandra seemed to be enjoying herself a whole lot more when I had her in my arms. Maybe I should offer Lorcan some tips.’ Cassandra stiffened up. Chayton’s friends laughed and were still laughing when Lorcan spun Cassandra around so that he could glare directly into their group. He blasted them with the full force of his anger, and they all had the good sense to stop laughing and straighten their faces – all except for Chayton, who was stupid enough to continue smiling cockily.
Lorcan gathered up every drop of repugnance he felt toward Chayton and hurled it at him. He knew it was wrong. He knew that Chayton’s swagger was nothing more than a manifestation of an already low self-esteem, and that this would only make it worse, but anger sent him beyond reason. Chayton tried to block Lorcan’s assault, but his mind gave way with a pathetic lack of strength that surprised even Lorcan, and Lorcan knew his negative image had taken root. Chayton’s cocky smile disappeared, but rather than feeling victorious, Lorcan was left doubting the strength of his own mind that had been unable to resist this temptation.
They danced on without speaking. Cassandra relaxed again, and Lorcan enjoyed holding her in his arms. He allowed her to soothe him into a better mood. He slid his hand from her waist to her shoulder and down again, just once, loving the feel of her smooth, wingless back.
But all the while, he could sense Garris scolding him as clearly as if Garris had been shouting in his ear. Lorcan shut him out, and within a few minutes the musicians stopped for a break. Lorcan was sure it was no coincidence.
Lorcan and Cassandra stared at each other in silence for a few seconds. This was the problem with a relationship built on animosity, Lorcan thought. They had nothing nice to say to each other. ‘You look beautiful, Cassandra,’ he finally uttered in a voice so low and quiet it was barely audible.
Lorcan caught the stunned look on Cassandra’s face just before he turned and walked away. He glanced back to see her walking quickly in the other direction, towards the edge of the agora. Her head was ducked and her arms were folded tightly across her chest as she tried to make herself invisible. Too late, he thought. Every eye was on the girl who had somehow induced Lorcan to dance with her. She disappeared into the darkness.
Lorcan knew there would be no avoiding Garris, so he decided to get it over with. He strolled towards the musicians. Garris met him halfway. Typically, he hadn’t missed a thing. His clown persona dropped away as if he were shedding a coat. He got straight down to haranguing Lorcan.
‘What’s wrong with you Lorcan? You know better than this. You’re a master at maintaining distance. Why is this girl any different? You’re letting her get under your skin, and you know she’s exactly wrong.’
‘I know, Garris.’
‘C’mon mate. Pull back before it’s too late. Nothing good can come out of this. She’s human. Human!’
‘I know that, Garris.’
‘You don’t think they’re going to let you continue to be a watcher if you get involved with this girl do you? What would you have then? It’s who you are. It’s all you are.’
‘Thanks, Garris.’
Garris’s tone turned placating, ‘Ahhh, come on, Lorcan, you know I don’t mean it that way. But it’s your passion. You know nothing else would ever satisfy you. I don’t want to s
ee this girl destroy your happiness. Are you truly prepared to give it all up for her?’
Lorcan didn’t answer, but the shocking question, ‘What happiness?’ reared up in his head.
‘You don’t even know how long she’ll stay,’ continued Garris.
‘She’s not going anywhere. Zabeth won’t allow it.’
‘You said yourself she left a loophole open.’
‘Not much of one.’
‘But still a loophole. You could give up everything and then lose her.’
‘I know!’ Lorcan exploded, ‘Jeeze, Garris, I know, okay! Do you think I haven’t already thought of all that and then some? Lay off!’
‘Oh, mate, you’re in real trouble.’
‘I know,’ Lorcan muttered under his breath as he walked away.
— CHAPTER 45 —
Gita’s Excursion
Cassandra and Cupid ducked and weaved just under the safety of the bush canopy.
The shrieks and laughter from the group of children in front of them rang and echoed between the trees. Three wattlebirds had joined the fun and were flying alongside. Early morning rain had left enormous drops of water hanging from the tips of leaves. Occasionally, one would drop on to an unfortunate traveller. It was the equivalent of being hit with a small bucket of water, but it was never enough to dampen the spirit.
Flying along at the tail end of this group was a magical experience for Cassandra. She had admired the wondrous beauty of groups of fae in flight. Now she felt euphoric to be part of the splendour, triumphant to have overcome her handicap and joyful to have Gita flying beside her.
It was the first time Gita had been allowed to accompany them on a gathering trip. In the past, she had accepted her place with the babies, but she was getting older and lately she had been railing against the limitations imposed on her by her age and hurling the most spectacular tantrums when she was left behind. She was really still not old enough to come, but Cassandra had convinced Ith to allow her to tag along this time on the understanding that she would be under Cassandra’s supervision at all times. Both Cassandra and Gita had gravely listened to Ith’s warnings and solemnly nodded their understanding, but nowadays Cassandra could easily read Gita and knew that inside she was buzzing, not properly listening to anything being said to her. Cassandra hid her amused admiration at how much of a master diplomatist Gita could be when it suited her.
They were headed to the nearby cliffs at the request of the weavers, who had asked for some fibre from a plant known to grow there. It was a familiar location to Cassandra’s human self, but at fae size she couldn’t gauge the distance. She knew they were expecting to stop for an early lunch and she hoped it would happen soon because Gita was starting to tire. Cassandra was going to look pretty stupid if she had to ask the group to stop because Gita wasn’t as capable as she’d promised. Perhaps, in hindsight, this shouldn’t have been the trip to choose for Gita’s first time. While Gita, and Cassandra with her, slowed more and more, the group moved farther and farther ahead. Soon they would be lost to view and out of shouting distance. Cassandra was about to choke down her pride enough to call a halt before it was too late, when the leaders of the group began to land in a clearing a short way ahead.
‘Come on, Gita,’ Cassandra said. ‘Let’s see if we can land with the others. You don’t want them to think you’re a baby, do you?’
It worked like a charm; who needed fae magic? They landed with the tail end of the group, dignity intact.
Children ran in all directions finding food and eating what they found. Cassandra, Gita and Ith ate quite well, although it was mostly Ith’s doing. He would be a handy man to have on side during an Easter egg hunt.
Once everyone’s appetites were satisfied and wings rested, the expedition resumed.
The second part of the journey was shorter, but it was also uphill. Cassandra realised that this was the area where the land rose up gently and changed from low-lying sandy beaches to exposed cliffs which fell away into the sea. Having to fly upwards for a long distance was causing Gita added difficulty and she was becoming tired again when, not a moment too soon, they reached their destination and the group began to land.
The sea breeze became a strong updraft at the edge of the cliff. While the children started searching for the plant they required, Ith stood at the edge and looked at the water way down below. Cassandra held Gita’s hand and went to stand beside him. The sea was an unfriendly steel-blue colour, jostling restlessly in the wind. The updraft ruffled the thin grey hair remaining on Ith’s head and plastered his clothes to his age-deflated body. Cassandra was reminded of just how elderly he was, and found herself wondering, with sudden dread, how long fae lived.
Ith turned to look at the children. ‘Oi!’ he shouted. He was staring down a couple of overly excited children who were becoming silly. The hooligans were in extremely high spirits because their initiation ceremony was now only days away. The energy had permeated through the entire group. He strode purposefully across to deal with the situation. ‘Someone’s going to end up in that cold water and I don’t fancy jumping in or having to carry one of you home today, so settle down.’
He returned to Cassandra and Gita, sitting down heavily on a rock. ‘I’m getting too old for this trip. It won’t be long before I’ll have to stop doing it. Maybe soon you’ll be able to take over.’ He smiled a proud, paternal smile at her. ‘You’ve been very resourceful, solving your flight problem by learning to ride a dragonfly.’
‘That was Ilvi’s …’ Cassandra started to say.
‘Ilvi might have come up with the idea of riding dragonflies, but that was purely for entertainment.’ He smiled at Cassandra. ‘She was bored. You adapted it as a solution to your problems.’ He nodded, agreeing with himself.
Gita was entertaining herself by wrenching fistfuls of grass out of the ground, flinging them into the air and watching the wind scatter them. Cassandra sat down beside Ith. A young girl ran up excitedly. Pressed protectively against her chest, she held a soft grey feather that reached from her nose to her shins. ‘Ith, look what I found!’
‘Good girl!’ He took the feather from her and tucked it under his arm, out of the wind. The girl skipped away and then her frilly pink wings unfurled and she fluttered into the air.
Ith watched her go and then looked back at Cassandra.
‘I know you’ve had a difficult time settling in, but you haven’t buckled. You seem to be happier lately.’ He paused, as if waiting for confirmation.
Was she happier lately? ‘Happy’ wasn’t quite the word she’d use, but it would do, so she nodded.
‘You’re bright, Cassie. I realise you can see through the polite manners and know that not everyone has fully accepted you yet. There’s a vast, lonely chasm between civility and friendship. But give it time.’ His gaze suddenly sharpened, and Cassandra had the strangest sense that he was peering into her mind. ‘At least I hope everyone is being polite. They are, aren’t they?’
The last thing Cassandra wanted was Ith worrying about her. She nodded. ‘Yes, of course.’
Ith didn’t appear convinced. Cassandra was saved from having to embellish her lie by a whoop of victory from a little farther along the cliff. The prized plant had been found.
Cassandra and Gita followed Ith to stop in front of an unimpressive looking plant that seemed to be little more than a collection of tall, unbranched stems with leaves on them. It towered above their heads, easily ten times their height. Ith and a few of the older children got to work cutting one stem off at its base while many of the other children flew up to support it so that it wouldn’t fall and hurt anyone. When the stem was cut through, they lowered it gently to the ground. Then all of the children sat along the length and started picking at it.
‘It’s too big to carry the whole thing home, so we strip the fibres here,’ Ith explained. ‘You can both help if you want.’ He strolled along the production line. ‘There’s room for you to sit here,’ he pointed to a space between two
boys.
Cassandra and Gita sat where Ith had directed them, and Ith showed them how to strip the fibres from the stem. It didn’t take Gita very long to conclude that this was utterly boring and begin to whinge and want to get up. Cassandra gave in and decided to take her for a walk. Together they wandered into the bush with Cupid buzzing along: backwards and forwards, side to side, disappearing and reappearing.
They came across a shaded recess under a fallen ti-tree branch where leaves and sand had built up against one side making it into a wide, shallow cave, protected from the wind. They sat inside, and Cupid flitted off to explore nearby. Cassandra began to tell Gita one of her ‘human tales’, which Gita had come to love. ‘Once upon a time, there was a human girl named Cinderella …’
While Cassandra talked, they both settled themselves down: Cassandra lying on her back, Gita tucked against Cassandra’s side, with her head on Cassandra’s shoulder. After the exertion of the long flight, it was relaxing to lie down in the warmth of their bower.
Cassandra allowed her eyes to drift closed as she spun the story.
— CHAPTER 46 —
Instinct
A blood-curdling scream brought Cassandra wide awake in a state of instant alarm.
What she saw fuelled her panic: in front of her was the demonic face of an enormous black cat, blocking the light with its sheer size, and between its terrifying fangs, Gita struggled hysterically. Cassandra’s body was paralysed with fear while her mind went into instant overload, reason and emotion at war. Her most basic instinct was to flee, far and fast, but she discovered that, for the first time in her life, there was a higher instinct, something more important to her than her own self. She had to save Gita; nothing mattered more. As that realisation smothered her flight response, emotion began to reluctantly give ground and allow reason to claw its way to the top. Gita continued to scream and struggle as the cat, ears flattened aggressively, slunk backwards, staring at Cassandra with its evil yellow eyes.
When the cat had moved away a short distance, it lowered its head and opened its jaws, releasing Gita. At first, Cassandra was relieved that it was letting her go, but when Gita picked herself up and started to half run, half fly back towards her and Cassandra ran forward to catch her, the cat pounced and batted Gita to the ground with its paw. Cassandra froze. Gita lay limp under the cat’s paw, now sobbing more with despair than hope. At that moment Cassandra would have gladly swapped positions with her and taken her chances with the cat herself. The cat intended to play with Gita for a while before killing her. Cassandra could tell from the cat’s glossy fur and clean red suede collar that this was a well cared for, domestic cat. It wasn’t hungry: this was purely entertainment, and Cassandra had become a threat to its new toy. It grabbed Gita roughly back up into its mouth, tearing off a beautiful wing that had remained crushed under its paw. Gita was screaming again. Cassandra leapt forward and grabbed at the cat’s tail as it turned to run away. She hung on as it spurted off into the bush.
