by Norah Black
*****
Foster had never been so audacious to interrupt a meeting within the confines of the barn. His father glared at him from under furrowed brows.
“Foster!” he bellowed, but was cut short by the raised hand of an old man in a long robe. The only thing Foster could think was, My God, they have a wizard out here.
“We will hear him, Darren.”
Foster stepped forward and swallowed hard. The old man looked at him impassively. An older woman sat beside him dressed in a similar manner. Foster could have sworn she was trying not to smile. He dared a quick glance at his mother and saw that she was doing the same thing.
“I wish to enter the Realm before my twenty-one without accompaniment.”
“What is your reasoning for doing so?”
“I believe the human Nadia James is being held there against her will.”
The man regarded him for a moment. The silence was unbearable. “Who is this mortal to you?”
Foster lowered his eyes and thought better of it, lifting them again. He had nothing to hide. “She is the one I have chosen.”
“You realize this is a violation of conduct?”
“Yes.”
“You realize you could be permanently forbidden from entering the Realm, even after you’re twenty-one?”
Foster looked at his family, his eyes lingered on Warren who slowly shook his head. “Yes, Sir, I am aware.”
Julia twitched in panic. “Foster, no! You cannot give away your place among your people away!” His mother stood and held out her hands pleadingly. “You have only been there a few times. You have no idea what you would be giving up!”
“No, Mother, you have no idea what I would give up if I don’t go after her.”
No one spoke for several seconds. Foster kept his eyes on his mother then shifted them to his father when Darren let out a bellow loud enough to wake the dead. “Julia! You act like Fae and Sidhe are the only bloods mingling in that boy!”
Her cool eyes stayed on him as she took her seat once again. “Tell me, Darren Anak, how much other blood has he displayed before tonight?”
Voices rose in a fever pitch. The older Fae were yelling at Foster’s father. He yelled back. Darren was throwing in his two cents worth, and Stefan stood beside Foster grinning from the pure joy of seeing a fight. Words were being used that Foster couldn’t translate. Things were said that made no sense. Foster sighed loudly and left the barn. Once outside he turned to see Warren and Stefan following him.
“I want the two of you baby sitters to leave me alone!” Foster stopped and glared at them.
“I won’t let you go alone.” Warren’s young face looked at Foster with a resolve that he rarely had guts to display.
“You are even younger than I am! Do you want to lose your place too?”
“I’m not the one in love with a mortal. What are they going to do?”
Foster turned his eyes to Stefan. “Well?”
He laughed out loud. Stefan laughed more than any Nephilim that Foster had ever heard of. Warren regarded him cautiously out of the corner of his eye. “I’m certainly not in love with a mortal either!”
“Your kind is absolutely forbidden without a guide.”
“Yeah? So what? Let’s get going before their party breaks up.” He said indicating the barn with his thumb.
Foster didn’t like this arrangement, but he didn’t like the idea of going alone any better. All he knew was that Nadia was in there somewhere and he was going to bring her home.
*****
Nadia awoke to music playing. It was a melancholy sound made by some type of flute or maybe a clarinet. She had never paid attention in music class. Her head felt better and the waves of nausea were gone, only to be replaced by an intense hunger and thirst. She stood slowly and knew that the strength had returned to her legs. She tiptoed to the door and peeked outside. The room beyond looked like it was carved out of some kind of huge tree. It was completely round and in the middle sat a person of some kind. He had his back to her and was indeed playing a flute. Nadia wasn’t sure what to do. She straightened herself and stepped into the room clearing her throat. The music stopped and the person twisted their body to look at her. It wasn’t a man, but a girl, a girl that appeared to be no older than herself. Her hair was short and auburn; and stuck out in every direction possible.
“You better get back in there before Garth comes back.” She said in a sing song voice. It was sweet and innocent sounding.
“Who’s Garth?”
She sighed and turned back around, positioning the flute back to her lips.
“Can I have something to drink?”
The girl mumbled and set her flute on the floor of hard packed dirt. Nadia was mesmerized by her as she stood. Her movements were more graceful than anything Nadia had ever seen, but the thing that was most attractive was the dress she wore. It shimmered as she moved and looked to be made of a delicate fabric that was perhaps a mix of gossamer and silk. The colors changed as the girl moved. Pale greens shifted into aqua and back again.
There was a small opening across from where the girl had sat and she stuck her head through it. “She’s awake!” She returned to her place on the floor and picked her flute up once again.
The opening parted and Nadia realized it was a flap that could be moved. If she had to guess, she would say it was hide of some sort. A man bent forward and stepped into the room. Once inside he could stand to his full height, but just barely. Nadia opened her mouth and her eyes became wide.
“You...you were at the bookstore!”
“Yes.” He said in that same voice that caused Nadia the desire to weep or go mad.
She put her hands to her ears and squeezed her eyes shut. “Please, don’t speak to me!”
“Is this better?” he said in a deep voice. It was still impressive, but nothing that could cause madness.
“Where am I?”
“A part of the Realm.”
“The what?”
He looked at her with impatient black eyes. “The Realm. I’m sure Foster told you about it.”
Nadia could feel heat rising in her face. This giant man knew Foster. “No, actually I have no idea what you are talking about. Why am I here?”
He sneered at her and pointed to the room she had been in. “Go back in there.”
Nadia sucked some of the anger she felt back down. She was predominantly afraid and didn’t think it wise to provoke the man. “I’m really hungry and thirsty.”
He turned and bent his way out of the flap without another word. Nadia stood awkwardly as the girl began playing the flute again. The melody was sad and then jumped right into a joyous sounding trill that made Nadia think of hummingbirds. The man pushed the flap open and came back into the room carrying a wooden plate and another cup. He handed it to her and waited for her to re-enter the room that was her make shift prison cell.
“Thank you.” Nadia said and walked back into the little room. She sat Indian style on the mat and took an inventory of her plate. There were dark berries, cheese, and a piece of hard crusted bread that looked like it had been torn away from the loaf. Nadia ate everything on the plate in under five minutes and looked at the cup suspiciously. It was water, and it was still sweet on her tongue. She sat back and waited for lethargy to overpower her, but it never came. Must have been the leaf.
Nadia could not see anything very well within the room, but she did realize it was round like the slightly larger room. She touched the walls and felt the roughness of wood and breathed in deeply, filling her nostrils with the heady aroma of pine. She knew Pines generally were not this big around, and couldn’t figure out how the structure was made. A stabbing pain of fear shot through her. How long would she be here? Why was she here? With nothing left to do but wait, Nadia, leaned against the wall and thought about the one thing that made her feel better; Foster.
*****
The meadow was alive with movement and different colored lights, but as the trio stepped
past the tree line, all of it stopped. Foster frowned and stood a few feet from the others. “We will need to go in as quietly as possible. If we are found without a guide, we will be thrown out right away.”
“Well, actually, it depends on how far you go and where you go.” Warren said in a small voice.
Foster and Stefan turned and looked at him. “What are you talking about?”
Warren looked at the ground and kicked at a small stick with the toe of his shoe. In jeans and a t-shirt he looked like any other fifteen-year-old boy, if you could over look his height. “If you stay away from the court and the market, it will be ok.”
“How do you know this, boy?” Stefan growled.
“Darren took me in.”
Foster turned back to the meadow and shook his head. Darren. “Do you know where to go?”
“I do.”
The three of them began walking across the meadow to the woods on the other side. Foster knew the actual door to the Realm was rather large. It really was more of a portal than a door. A human on their own would never be able to breach it, even if they knew about it.
The three of them walked into the woods and Foster could hear the soft lapping of the brook. It was only ten feet across and they walked into it feeling the cold water fill their shoes and wet their pants legs to the knee.
“Dammit!” Stefan roared.
“Shhh!” Warren placed his index finger across his lips giving Stefan a warning. “You must be quiet!” he urgently whispered.
Stefan grumbled under his breath and watched Foster step onto the bank on the other side.
Foster felt the tingle across his skin. His mother dried his tears when he was a young boy on his first visit to the Realm, and assured him it was only a reaction to crossing what she called the veil. It wasn’t an unpleasant feeling; it simply felt like a mild amount of electricity was moving over him. Stefan and Warren stepped to either side of him and they stood listening and watching. It felt like waiting, but none of them knew what for.
“My legs and feet are dry!” Stefan whispered as he held each leg up in turn and looked at them, trying to figure out how such a thing had happened. “Will they get wet again when we cross back over?”
“Yes,” Foster said. “But they won’t dry right away in the human world.”
“Huh. That sucks.”
“Alright, Warren, where do we go?”
Warren sniffed the air and motioned to their right. “This way; Darren has a friend that lives nearby.”
Foster tried to keep his mind focused, but it was increasingly hard to do. The intoxication of the Realm was pulling his mind in a thousand different directions. Everything was intensified. Little dots of light flashed near their faces and high in the trees. There was a sickly sweet smell as they moved into the heavier part of the forest. The trees hummed and the flashing lights giggled.
“I think this is the scariest place on earth!” Stefan hissed.
Foster wanted to laugh out loud. “Why Uncle, is it too cute and sweet for you?”
“Cute and sweet? This place is murderous! Those little flashing Pixies will cut your throat just as quick as they will look at you!”
“Stefan, they are too tiny to hurt you. They’re only a little mischievous that’s all.”
“Right. The last time I was here, one of those damned things flew straight up my nose! I had to sneeze three times before it flew out! Then the little bugger bit me on my face six times, as if it was my fault he or she or whatever decided to fly up my nose!”
Foster and Warren exchanged an amused glance. Stefan was the roughest uncle, but he was also the most humorous. They walked on for at least ten more minutes before Warren stopped them by holding up his hands.
“Wait for a second.”
Foster and Stefan watched him lower himself and creep forward several feet. He stopped and crouched behind tall shrubbery that seemed out of place within the forest. Warren motioned for them to follow and he gently parted a couple of branches so they could peer through. Foster inched his face beside Warren’s and saw a small cottage about twenty yards away. It was rustic and there was the flicker of candlelight in the front window. Warren stood and walked around the wall of shrubs. As soon as he stepped into full view of the cottage, the front door flew open and a woman step onto the porch with an arrow nocked in a bow. She pointed it directly at Warren.
Warren held up his hands and took a cautious step forward. “Diana, it’s me Warren. I have come with my brother and uncle.”
The woman couldn’t have been more than a couple of inches over five feet, and her wild curly hair bounced around her face as she threw her arrow and bow to the ground.
“Darren! Is Darren with you?” she asked bounding forward. She came to a screeching halt when she saw Stefan and Foster step from behind the shrubbery. Her round red mouth turned down in a frown.
“Tricks I see, young Warren.” She turned to go back into the cottage, muttering under her breath,
“Please, Diana, we need your help.”
She turned and looked at each of them. “Why should I?”
Warren shrugged. “I will send a message to Darren if you help us.”
She furrowed her brows and shook her head. “He promised to come back.”
“Yes. I know, Diana, and I’m sorry he has delayed, but if you help us I will make sure he gets your message.”
It seemed like such a small thing to offer, and Foster was sure she would never accept on such scant conditions, but to his surprise she jerked her head to the side and motioned for them to follow her inside.
The inside of the cottage was neat as a pin. A wooden table with two chairs sat in the kitchen and another room was off of the small living room. She had brightly colored cushions on the floor in front of the fireplace, and a rocking chair sat in the corner. Foster saw some books neatly stacked beside the rocker. Stefan had to hunch over and almost immediately sat on the floor to make himself more comfortable.
Diana stood beside an old-fashioned water pump and asked if they would like her to pump some water for tea.
“Oh, no thank you, Diana.” Warren said gently. Foster could sense something was amiss by the way Warren looked at her. He could see pity in his brother’s eyes. Diana nodded and sat down in one of the wooden chairs at the table. Foster saw that her dress was old fashioned, but that was the norm in the Realm. He also noticed that the dress needed mending in a few places and looked dingy. In all honesty the woman looked tired. Foster was surprised to see that she was young. She was young looking even for a Fae. He guessed her at no more than twenty mortal years.
Warren took the chair across from her and reached out to take one of her hands in his. She turned her head to the side and Foster watched a fat tear slide down her face.
“What do you need, young Warren?”
He cleared his throat and kept hold of her hand. “My brother Foster has lost something. We think this something may be in the Realm.”
She sighed and removed her hand from his. “This is no twenty-questions game! Tell me straight what he lost.”
Warren looked back at Foster and Stefan. Foster nodded. “We think someone brought his girlfriend here.”
Diana barked a laugh. “I suppose you will tell me next that she is mortal?” Her large brown eyes looked at each of them in turn. “She is a mortal?”
“Yes.” Warren answered quietly.
Laughter erupted from her in such force that she bent forward. “Well, she is good as dead! No mortals are allowed in the Realm!”
Foster stood and looked at her hard. She was a wild looking woman, and behaved as if she were on the train to crazy, but a Fae understands one thing very well, and that one thing is love. “She is my chosen.” Foster’s voice was clear and even.
Diana stopped laughing and stared at him with something like awe. “Your chosen?”
Foster nodded.
“Then she is your true love?”
“Yes. Please, Diana, can you help me?”
A ghost of a smile touched Foster’s lips. “That’s nice, Diana. I hope you both will Ceremony soon.”
“I don’t think so. We did things backwards.”
“What do you mean?” Foster watched her scurry from the room. He looked at Warren and could see concern etched on his face.
“Oh, hell.” Stefan whispered. Foster and Warren looked across the room and saw Diana standing in the doorway holding a tiny sleeping baby. Foster felt his gut clench, as he walked cautiously towards her. She held the baby out towards him and he took it gently in his arms. It was a perfect little baby boy. He had smooth black hair that shone like diamonds. Foster looked at her pleading eyes.
“If I help you find your chosen will you tell my chosen to come see his son?”
*****
Nadia tried to keep up with the unrelenting pace that Garth had set for them. He came into the little room at dawn and pulled her to her feet. He didn’t speak, and when he thrust her outside she saw two other men, both armed with bows and swords hanging from their belts. She was sure she had stepped into a medieval story of some kind. Their clothes had to have been made in part from animal hide. It reminded her of some of the deerskin clothes the Native American workers wore when she visited the living museum. The shirts could have been made other ways. After all the colonists made their own clothes, no one had a Wal-Mart back then. Such trivial details helped keep her mind from exploding.
The forest they were in was beautiful and menacing at the same time. Nadia loved the woods. She loved the outdoors as a general rule, but this was too much. Her senses were heightened in this place. The air was warm and full of too many smells to name. She kept her eyes on the ground as much as possible and tried to determine where the gentle hum was coming from. It was under her, over her, but more importantly it was coming from within her own body.
