by Brey Willows
Kody plucked a common dandelion and held it out. “This is pretty safe. Although if you wish on it, I can’t make any promises. Remember where you are.”
Maggie couldn’t help but smile. “I think I’ll save my wishing for a more important moment.”
Kody nodded and placed the dandelion in the crook of a tree branch. “Wise beyond your years.”
Green fields dotted with a rainbow of wildflowers spread in both directions, interrupted by large verdant mounds dotted all the way to the edge of the forest. Butterflies of every color and size fluttered through the flowers as sunlight danced on their wings. Puffy clouds like something out of a children’s story were the only thing to mar the blue sky, and with a start, she realized how strange it was to see a sky without vapor trails. That made her concentrate on what else was missing. There was no road noise. No conversations or street hawkers. No horns. No sirens. It was blissfully, strangely, silent.
“Strange, isn’t it?” Kody plucked a flower and twirled it between her fingers.
“What is?”
“The lack of noise.” She glanced at Maggie and then back at the flower. “I’ve lived in your world so long I’d forgotten what this is like.”
Maggie nodded but wasn’t sure what to say. What did you say to the person who gave up everything to watch over you? Instead she kept looking at her surroundings. “Are the mounds homes?”
“Yeah. Most are. Some are storage areas. Or stores.” They were nearing the edge of the forest and Kody stopped. “Mags, are you sure you want to see where your parents lived? I haven’t been back since we took you through the cottage. I don’t know what we’ll find.”
Maggie closed her eyes and concentrated. Kody’s question was a fair one. As always, her instincts gave her the answer. “I’m sure. In fact, I’d say we need to go there, but I don’t know why.”
“Good enough.”
Maggie walked beside Kody and shivered as they entered the forest’s canopy of shade. She shifted her duffle and winced at the pain in her wrist. She stopped walking when Kody put her hand on her arm.
“Hand me that, would you?”
Confused, Maggie looked around. “Hand you what?”
“Your bag.”
Maggie pushed it farther over her shoulder. “Why?”
Kody sighed. “Just give it over, would you?”
“But why?” Maggie liked when Kody’s Irish accent came out, which only seemed to be when she was stressed about something.
“Because you’ve an injury, and we don’t need extra grief. Let it heal a bit and then you can carry your own bag all you want.”
Maggie had a feeling this wasn’t an argument she was going to win. She swung it off her shoulder and held it out. When Kody took it and easily swung it over her own shoulder, Maggie swallowed hard at the way her tattoos moved over her muscled arms, and the way the white tank top pulled tight against defined abs. When Kody cleared her throat, Maggie looked up to see Kody’s eyebrow raised and a half grin on her lips.
Heat coursed through her and she strode off. “Well? Are you coming?” It wasn’t the right wording given what she was feeling, but she couldn’t take it back.
“Right there with you.”
Kody’s voice was low and carried some meaning Maggie didn’t want to analyze. They walked in companionable silence for a while until Kody motioned her to stop.
She pointed. “Look, just through those two trees there. Let your gaze go soft, blurry. Do you see him?”
Maggie tried to see what Kody was pointing at, but the longer she looked the less she could see. Just as she was about to give up, motion caught her eye and she gasped softly. “What is it?”
“He’s a ghillie dhu. I think they’re beautiful.”
Maggie had to agree. He was small, maybe only a foot or so tall, and draped in moss. His eyes were the color of spring grass, which looked very much like what his hair might be. He sat on a tree branch, swinging his legs as he looked back at them.
Kody tugged on her sleeve and Maggie started walking again, still looking over her shoulder. He gave her a shy little wave before he disappeared into the trees.
Maggie took a deep, shaky breath. Things like this were good. Reminders that she wasn’t crazy were great, though still unsettling. “So what’s a ghillie dhu?”
“A kind of fairy, but a rare one. They’re deeply tied to the land, and they like children. They’re solitary, so you never see more than one at a time. Gentle souls.”
That fit with what Maggie had seen. She was thinking about his lovely eyes and the way he’d waved when Kody stopped.
“There it is. Your parents’ house. Where you were born.”
Maggie stared at it until her knees went weak and she had to squat down. Emotion overwhelmed her. Parents. Home. Words that had always carried a whole lot of baggage and words she’d long since decided meant nothing to her, words that now wore a cloak of mystery and fear. And hope. Without looking away from the two-story stone building, she said, “Can I go inside?”
“I suggest you knock first, but yeah, it should be fine.” Kody put out her hand and helped Maggie up.
It was surreal to be walking up the little stone path that led to the house. When she got to the door, she didn’t have to knock. The wood was splintered like something had crashed through it, and it was nearly off its hinges. She pushed it aside and moved into the dark, dank space. It was obvious no one had been there in a very, very long time. Thick dust covered the broken table and overturned chairs. A breeze rattled the broken window pane, its sharp edges slicing the sunlight. Maggie moved from room to room, her fingers trailing through the dusty remnants of a life she’d never known.
In a back room, tears welled in her eyes as she took it all in. An old-fashioned, beautifully carved crib sat undisturbed in the middle of the room. A baby blanket that would have been the color of the sun, but was now just a pastel memory lay neatly folded on the rocking chair beside the crib. “It’s like they were waiting for me to come back.”
Kody leaned against the doorframe, looking as somber as Maggie felt. “Maybe they were hoping…I don’t know.” She shook her head and blew out a long breath. “I didn’t stop to look around when we left with you that night. I wish I had, just so I could remember what it felt like back then.”
Maggie continued to look around, and on a whim, she opened a drawer in what was probably the master bedroom. It was empty except for a key that looked utterly out of place. It was a shiny skeleton key, glinting against the worn wood of the drawer. Maggie picked it up and saw that there were words inscribed along the neck.
You’ll know what to do when the times comes.
She looked at Kody, who was reading over her shoulder. Kody shook her head.
“No idea. But meant for you.”
Maggie swallowed that same sense of panic that had overwhelmed her the day before. “How would that be possible?”
Kody squeezed her shoulder. “That’s the way this world works. Things come to you when you need them. Magic is part of the everyday. You just have to roll with it.”
“Sure. Right.” Maggie put the key in her pocket. “You make it sound easy.” There was nothing else of interest in the drawers, and Maggie moved to the entryway. “I can’t imagine being born here. I can’t picture my parents. I wish there was a photo, something, to make it real.”
Kody was standing outside in the sun, her face tilted up like she was drinking it in. “I wish I could give you something like that. I can tell you that you look a lot like your ma. Same hair color, same eyes. You’re tall, like your da. They both had amazing smiles, but yours is more guarded than theirs.” She turned to look at Maggie. “I’m sorry I can’t give you more. Maybe the key will help.”
Maggie took the key from her pocket and unzipped the duffle Kody had set on the ground. She added it to the little leather pouch she’d put the hag stone in and pulled the drawstring tight before tucking it amongst her clothes again. She turned to the house and let the t
ears fall. Kody’s arm came around her and she leaned into her strength.
“Do you think they might still be alive?” she whispered.
“I don’t know. If they are, they’re so deep in hiding that everyone thinks you’re the last spinner.” Kody’s tone was gentle.
“And if they’re not in hiding, then it’s possible I really am the last.” She’d been orphaned by her parents, only to have her adoptive parents die too. Now she felt like she’d lost her birth parents all over again, and the ache was nearly too much to bear. Kody led her to an iron bench that looked out over the overgrown garden. She held her close as Maggie cried for the loss of people she’d never know.
Chapter Fourteen
Maggie was lost in thought when Shamus and Brenda appeared on the path leading to her childhood home, and it took a moment for her to focus on them. He was walking on all fours and stopped to sniff things here and there, much like a normal housecat would. Beside him, Brenda skipped along with her skirt of leaves flaring around her legs. With Shamus on all fours, she was taller than him, but when he was upright they were much the same height. My cat and my…what was Brenda? She wasn’t a receptionist. She wasn’t a guardian, per se. My friend. That’s what she was. And Shamus wasn’t her cat. Not really. He was a guardian, someone who had watched out for her without her even knowing it. Her heart warmed as she watched them come toward her before she turned her attention to Kody, who was sprawled in the grass, her head resting on Maggie’s duffle bag, her eyes closed. Out of all of them, it was Kody who had given up the most.
What was Kody’s story? What event was behind the pain in her eyes, behind her refusal to go back to the shepherd’s hut? As much as Maggie knew she shouldn’t pry, she desperately wanted to ask.
“You’re right on time.” Kody spoke without opening her eyes.
“Of course we are.” Shamus sniffed a flower and gave a delicate sneeze.
Brenda moved to sit beside Maggie on the bench. “How are you doing, honey?” Her hand was gentle on Maggie’s forearm.
Maggie shrugged. “I’m not sure. I’m okay, I guess. I’m glad I came, and knowing I had roots somewhere and people who loved me has given me a lot to think about. It’s something hearing about it, but it’s something else altogether to stand in the actual space.” She looked down at Brenda. “Does that make sense?”
“Of course it does. Our hearts know when we’re home.”
Kody stood and brushed the grass from her jeans. “Time to go. I don’t know if we’ll make it to the Key Keepers tonight. We may have to camp.”
“Or stay with the Puca.” Shamus took the lead back onto the forest path.
“Who are they?” Maggie mentally ran through the characters in the Grimm books, but that one didn’t sound familiar.
Kody nodded. “They were always big supporters of the spinners. I’m sure we’d be welcome. If we have to make camp, we’ll send out a call.” She turned to Maggie. “Like most fairy tale creatures, the Puca could be benign or malevolent, depending on the situation. They’re shape changers, but in their natural state they look a little like Brenda.”
Brenda snorted and flipped her hair. “With less fashion sense and more dirt under their nails, thank you very much.”
Kody inclined her head and smiled. “Indeed.”
As they walked, they answered any questions Maggie had about the plants and wildlife around them, often telling her anecdotal stories of their own lives to go with the definitions. There was laughter, and a few tears, and Maggie knew deep down it was good for her companions to remember their lives here. She also enjoyed listening to their experiences and getting to know them on a deeper level. Shamus loved the scent of Northern bilberry, but the berry made his tongue itch, something he found out only after eating one when he was attempting to garner a date with another of his kind. For Brenda’s people, comfrey was an aphrodisiac, and they harvested it and sold it at market. She’d kept her own stash until her parents found it and sent her to live with an aunt in a rural area for a year as punishment. The aunt had her own stash, and the two of them would enjoy nights out in the city, much to Brenda’s parents’ chagrin.
“What about you, Kody? What’s your favorite?” Maggie asked.
Kody’s smile was wistful, her gaze far away. “There’s nothing in the world like sleeping in the branches of an alder tree at the full moon. You can hear the whole world whispering in its leaves.”
The words were simple, but the emotion behind them wasn’t. Maggie could sense the depth of feelings there, and it felt intrusive to ask anything further. Soon, the shadows grew long and Maggie had to pull her sweatshirt from her bag again when goose bumps rose over her arms.
“As I thought, we’ll not make it to the Keepers tonight. I’m going to call the Puca.” Kody set Maggie’s bag on the ground and went to a nearby tree. Enormous thorns stuck out from the trunk and from every branch, though opalescent flowers hung heavy from the bows. Kody jumped up, plucked a flower as big as her hand, and then crumpled it between her palms. She opened her hands and blew the petals into the air, where they began an elegant dance in the wind before disappearing into the treetops.
“And now we wait.” She dropped down and rested against a less thorny tree.
Before Maggie could drop down beside her, the ground rumbled and the light seemed to dim. She looked at Kody, who slowly got to her feet and pulled Maggie behind her. “Something’s wrong.”
Shamus and Brenda moved next to Kody, and she put her hands on their shoulders. When two onyx horses and one with a dazzling white coat burst from the forest and onto the path, she pulled both of them behind her, next to Maggie.
The horses came to an abrupt halt in front of them, dust pluming around their hooves.
“Who are they?” Maggie whispered, never taking her eyes from the beasts.
“Puca.” Shamus, too, kept his eyes on them. “But they only show up in equine form when they’re threatened and protecting their territory.”
As Maggie watched, the one with the white coat changed, much the same way Shamus did. Those heat wave kind of things moved around it, and then standing before her was a four-foot tall creature with pointed ears, white eyes, and a long white horse’s tail. She felt Kody relax slightly.
“Avery. It’s good to see you again, old friend.”
Kody held out her hand, and the one she called Avery leaned forward and sniffed it. She took in the group, and though her expression wasn’t welcoming, it was less angry. But when she truly looked at Maggie, she took a slight step backward.
“It’s been a very long time, Aoire.” The Puca sniffed again in Maggie’s direction. “We were told you were dead.”
“Not dead, just gone.” Kody motioned toward the other two horses. “This isn’t the welcome I would have expected. Surely it’s not just because you thought I was dead?”
Avery’s expression was guarded and her tail slapped the dirt. “If you got a message on the wind that someone long dead was in your forest, would you not question it?” She leaned forward, staring intently at Maggie. “A group such as yours will make heavy footprints in this forest.”
Shamus stepped out from behind Kody. “We’re looking for shelter tonight.” His question was implied, but not voiced.
It was a tense moment before Avery nodded. “We can provide that.” She turned to the other two horses. “Go ahead and let them know we’re coming.” The two horses wheeled and galloped off into the forest. Avery turned back to the group. “I have a feeling we have much to talk about.” When Kody began to speak, Avery shook her head. “Not here, ancient one. Every tree and creature listens for news of change, but there’s no way of knowing who they’ll give that information to.”
Kody’s brow furrowed and Maggie could tell she wanted answers, but she inclined her head to agree. She fell in behind Kody, with Shamus and Brenda behind her, as they followed the creature down the forest path into the increasing darkness.
* * *
It was something ou
t of a movie, or a book. Or a book made into a movie. Maggie nearly laughed out loud at the little mound houses with their little doorways and little windows. The fact that it was real, that the creatures with long, pointed ears, eyes the color of gemstones, and tails of various types were walking among those houses made it even more fantastical. But as they walked past, a startled hush came over the community, and Maggie could feel their stares like a million little ropes touching her skin. She pressed closer to Kody, who slowed down to press back.
“Something is wrong, but it’s less about us than something else. Can you feel it? Concentrate.” Kody’s voice was soft, her tone even.
Maggie did as she suggested and concentrated on the feelings surrounding her. Kody was right. The fear, or whatever it was, wasn’t directed at them. But what emotion was directed at them she couldn’t figure out.
Avery stopped at a larger mound house than the rest. “Refresh yourselves. I’ll send someone to bring you to dinner in an hour.” She turned to Brenda. “We have an empty cottage, cousin, if you’d prefer your own space.”
Brenda looked between Avery and the others. “Thank you, cousin, but if it’s all the same, I’d like to stay with my friends.”
Avery nodded and walked away without another word.
Kody led the way into the house, and Maggie’s smile made her cheeks hurt. It was all so perfectly Disney. Chairs just big enough for humans, a roof low enough that Kody had to be careful not to bang her head, and a bathroom barely big enough to use comfortably, were all so fitting for a group of people who had created a place for visitors, but didn’t get the full scale of them. She gingerly sat on a wooden chair that creaked under her weight, but held.
“So? Now what?”
Kody shook off her backpack. “I’m going to shower.” She ducked into the bathroom and closed the door behind her.
“Tea?” Brenda asked from the kitchen.
Maggie and Shamus both said yes, and while Brenda was prepping the tea, Maggie looked to Shamus. “Can you tell me about these creatures? I mean, what should I know so I don’t stick my foot in it?”
