The Lost Child

by H. P. Mallory

  Odran’s grin broadened as he nodded, knowingly. “More than once if Ah’m any joodge.”

  I blushed still deeper. As long as there was no disguising it, I might as well ask my question. “Odran, is there… something in the air in Faery?”

  Odran’s smile changed to something less leering. “Ye might say that, lass , boot perhaps not in the way ye mean. ‘Tis not an aphrodisiac in the air—if it was, we’d all be at it like rabbits day, noon, an’ night. What there is ‘in the air’,” he paused to find the words. “Ye might call it a ‘brightness’, and it has far more o’ an effect on foreigners like yerselves than it does on the Fae.”

  “Then is it something causing us to act a certain way?”

  Odran shook his head. “It doesnae have a specific effect on ye, it enhances what ye bring with ye. Yerself an’ Sinjin have been through much o’ late, more than any couple should have to go through. Ye both carry with ye a deep love for each other, an’

  deep need to be together, burnin’ beneath yer skin like a beacon.

  Boot ye’ve been oonable to express that love, that desire, because o’ the situation with yer poor wee bairn. Ye feel guilty takin’ pleasure in each other while the child is missin’. The air o’ Faery has helped ye get past that an’ express the love ye both have for each other.”

  I felt tears of gratitude rising in my eyes. I didn’t know until that afternoon how much I needed, not just Sinjin’s love, not even just his touch, but his pleasure—I had needed to be able to enjoy him again, and to have him enjoy me. The give and take of pleasure and having fun while doing it had been a casualty of this situation and one we had felt guilty about expressing.

  Odran put a hand on my shoulder, knowing what I was thinking without me needing to say it. “When we find the bairn, the child will be happy to have two parents who love it, nothin’ else matters. Ye should have nae shame in yer love, or in how ye express it.”

  I did not tell Sinjin about my conversation with Odran. Partly because I didn’t think he would be that comfortable with the fact that I’d discussed our sex life with the Fae king, albeit in a guarded fashion. But my main reason for not telling him was because I didn’t want him to know there was any external factor at work here, I just wanted it to be about us and the fact that no matter how bad things were, we could always have fun together.

  I wanted us both to enjoy this little pocket of happiness without any caveat attached to it. And we did. Sex between two consenting adults in a committed relationship can be an honest and heartfelt expression of their love, but it also can—and should—be wild, crazy, filthy, multiple positional, all over the room, howling at the ceiling, bouncing off the walls, muscle-straining, mattress breaking, need to sit with an icepack between your legs for a hour afterwards, FUN.

  We were at the Seelie Court for only a few days while the Court assembled its disparate members to hear Odran’s plea. Sinjin and I made the most of it.

  #

  “I suppose we must get up at some point,” Sinjin said.

  It was late morning and Sinjin and I lay beneath the thin silk sheet, bathed in a languid post-coital afterglow, neither of us really feeling like moving but both knowing we had to.

  “I suppose.” I traced patterns with my fingers across the muscular landscape of his chest, then down to his washboard abs.

  “If you keep going in that direction,” observed Sinjin, raising his head off the soft pillows, “then we may never leave this room. Go on, you can have the shower first.”

  I pushed myself up into a sitting position. “Okay. But don’t think I don’t know that behind that chivalrous, ‘ladies first’

  attitude is a man who wants an extra twenty minutes in bed.”

  “I cannot imagine what you a re talking about, my love,” smiled Sinjin, closing his eyes as he relaxed back into the luxurious clasp of the cushiony bed. It was amazing how fast he had ‘gone native’.

  “We could shower together,” I suggested nonchalantly as I stood.

  “A fine idea, my hellion,” said Sinjin, not opening his eyes.

  “Were it not for the fact that every time we try to shower together, the same thing happens.”

  “And what’s that?” I asked with a smile.

  “Coitus.” I laughed as he continued. “We need to be in the great hall on time. Besides, even a man of my superhuman prowess has to rest from time to time.”

  “Suit yourself.” I padded barefoot across to the bathroom. In the doorway , I turned back to look at Sinjin and found his eyes open again and looking straight at me with a lust-fueled hunger, devouring my naked body. Coyly, I pressed my breasts together; he was never able to resist my cleavage. “Something you wanted?”

  “Damnation.” Sinjin sprang from the bed and was across the room in an instant, folding me into his strong embrace as I, once again, reveled at the feel of his hard torso pressed against me.

  “I suppose if we shower together, that saves us enough time for one more dance.”

  There was never any chance of me feeling unwanted as long as I was with Sinjin, his desire for me was matched by his extraordinary stamina. As well as its floral shower, the Faery bathroom seemed to have been grown from the stone floor; the shower cubicle was a rough square of living hazel wands which opened and closed at a touch. It was a magical place in which to make love. We tumbled out, half an hour later, holding hands and giggling like kids.

  “Come on, we’re going to be late unless we hurry,” I urged.

  “Well, that is entirely your fault,” pointed out Sinjin, “I was trying to get us ready thirty minutes ago.”

  “Yes, but you were also the one taking his time in there.” I indicated the cubicle as I dried myself.

  “Apologies. Next time I shall simply take my pleasure and leave you to it.”

  “Don’t you dare.”

  “At least we a re both clean.” And he kissed me on top of my head, as if afraid to take my lips because doing so might lead us back into carnal territory.

  I laughed. “I’m not sure I’ll ever feel ‘clean’ again.”

  It was good to laugh. It was good to enjoy each other. For a brief moment I allowed myself the luxury of staring at Sinjin’s naked body as he vigorously toweled himself down. Soon we would be back on the quest and moments like this would be a thing of the past, but for now I permitted myself to enjoy the sinuous muscles of his arms, his taut ass cheeks and the other attractions of his honed body. Of course, the fate of my infant child still burned at me and my impatience to start the quest was undiminished. But if the unique properties of the Faery air could give us a few days of guilt-free happiness, then I saw no harm in that.

  Sinjin dressed in one of the Faery suits, his trim figure hugged by the immaculate black material, that was probably spun cobweb or some such. Out of respect to our Fae hosts, I too decided to brave one of the dresses from the closet of lace and satin—one we had not defiled earlier in our stay.

  “What do you think?” I had selected something in midnight blue, which seemed more appropriate to our serious task than most of the riotously bright colors on display. The dress hung loosely from my shoulders, offering limited chest support (Fae are seldom over-endowed in that area), it tucked at the waist, clinging to my hips and ass before flaring out into gossamer tatters that flapped around my legs, offering glimpses of calf and thigh as I moved.

  Sinjin looked at me and I was flattered by the heat in his gaze.

  He shook his head. “Such a shame they force you to dress like this.”

  “Yeah, you look all broken up about it. Come on. They’ll be starting soon.”

  Though most of the rooms in the Seelie Castle were stone —mostly marble—the building’s supporting structure seemed based about a tree, or possible a whole forest of interwoven trees, about which the castle had been built. Of course it was a mistake to think of anything in Faery as having been ‘built’—it was not like there were Faery builders—these things were grown in magic, which meant that the
impossibility of constructing a castle based around a tree was of no concern.

  The great hall was one of the rooms where the castle’s true nature revealed itself. There was barely any stone at all; the walls were tree trunks, climbing high above us, their spreading and interlocking branches forming an arched roof. Below us the trees’ roots had been worn smooth by centuries of foot traffic to

  create a smooth, if slightly undulating floor. Here and there, the trunks and branches did not quite meet, allowing piercing shafts of bright daylight in from outside. Several of the trunks contained narrow spiral staircases and windows were cut into the bark, forming a gallery from which people could observe proceedings in the chamber below.

  The room, as we entered, was filled with the denizens of Faery, as diverse as it was possible to imagine. Tiny sprites flitted about, no longer than my little finger; knee-high gnomes huddled together, preferring their own company; in one corner sat Jimmy Squarefoot, a hulking Fae with the head of a pig but, apparently, a very pleasant and amiable demeanor. The most familiar Fae to me, were those who looked human, like Dureau and his sister, Audrey, and they were here too, though in their own realm their features became sharper, more otherworldly. Their skin was a variety of colors from black to gold, their hair could be brilliant white, shocking red, electric blue or perhaps it kept shifting.

  They watched us enter, reserving their most interested looks for Sinjin. Though there was variety here, there was nothing like my vampire lover. Even by Fae standards of beauty, Sinjin was uncommonly handsome and well-formed, but he bore with him a dark, brooding energy, that I, as a sensitive , could feel and which was utterly alien to the Fae realm. He fascinated them, while I was just there.

  “Bryn! Sinjin!” At least Odran would always be pleased to see me.

  He strolled through the throng towards us, his subjects parting before him, a nest of pixies scurrying away to avoid being stepped on. Odran seemed larger than normal here. Maybe he just seemed to be bigger in his natural surroundings; maybe he grew from the pride he obviously felt in being king here; maybe this was his real height and he appeared shorter in our world so as not to stand out any more than he wanted—though Odran always wanted to stand out. Whatever the case, it suited him and so did this place. For the first time since I had known the bold, bragging Fae king, I felt I was seeing him at home.

  “Is everything ready?” asked Sinjin, now we were here he was all business and I found my mind also refocusing on our child, the effects of the Faery air fading with the escalation of events.

  “Aye,” confirmed Odran. “The whole o’ the Seelie Court has been assembled to hear mah address.”

  “Any idea how it will be received?” I asked, hopefully.

  “Ah’ve nae been able to glean anythin’ from the folk Ah’ve spoken to,” admitted Odran. “Boot Ah cannae see anyway they could refuse. The Fir Darrig has been an enemy o’ this Court for years.

  Mah enemy’s enemy is mah friend.”

  If the Seelie Court agreed to help us track down the Fi r Darrig and rescue my daughter, then it would be a huge advantage to us.

  No other organization in Faery could offer such resources, particularly against so fearsome an enemy. The Darrig was old and powerful and had friends who were also old and powerful A disproportionate number of the elder Fae were malign, but the Court could boast a few of the old and powerful as well, perhaps even some to match the Darrig. It was our best chance, and I was not quite sure where we would start if they said no.

  “Sorry we’re late.” Dureau and Klassje joined us and it made me feel better to have my friends there. Dureau and I had long been close—for all our slightly bumpy history—and Klassje and I had become good friends in the preceding months. I hugged them both.

  “What an amazing place, huh?” said Klassje. I couldn’t help wondering if she and Dureau had found this place as ‘amazing’ as Sinjin and I had. Dureau was a Fae, himself, so would have been less affected, but if Klassje had felt it, then I was sure he wouldn’t have wasted the opportunity. But there would be time for girl-talk later.

  The sound of a hammer on a rock brought the discordant gathering to order and people sought out their seats, Fae of every size and type clustered in together. They represented all that was good and right in the realm of Faery… surely they would not refuse our request.

  “Welcome!” The voice that boomed out, filling that impressive space came from an old, bearded Fae seated at the top end of the room in a chair that was formed by the twisted roots of the trees themselves. This, Odran had told me, was Finvarra, High King of the Irish Fae and Lord of Knockma (whatever that was). He commanded a respect in Faery that few could match and so had been asked to chair the Court several centuries since. “This special convening of the Seelie Court has been called to hear the request of one our most honored kings; Odran of Norroway and Kinloch.”

  Odran rose from his seat, and maybe it was my imagination, but now he seemed even taller, towering over the assembly.

  “Odran,” Finvarra extended a gnarled hand, “the floor is yours, my lad.”

  Odran bowed, showing a deference to the legendary king. “Thank ye, High King. An’ thank ye too to this Court for assemblin’ so fast to hear mah request. Ah have nae asked the Seelie Court for a favor for many a long year. Ye all know me here, an’ ye all know Ah wouldnae come before ye oonless I were in dire need.” He smiled, ruefully. “Perhaps, some of ye here know me too well.

  Perhaps ye think that if Odran is askin’ a favor ‘tis because he has got himself into trouble with a mortal lassie.”

  “Oh, brother,” I grumbled, mostly to myself.

  “Perhaps he did somethin’ foolish in his drink an’ now needs the help o’ the Court to make right his own carousin’ mistakes. An’

  ye would be well within yer rights to think sooch a thing. Odran has been a fool with the lasses an’ the drink in the past, an’

  will be again in the future, nae doubt. Boot that is nae why Ah am here before ye this day. Ye may find it hard to credit, boot Ah am here on behalf o’ someone else.”

  He extended a hand to indicate me and I rose to bob an awkward curtsey to the throng, looking like a kindergartner who has been introduced to the Queen.

  “This lass is me friend, Bryn, an’ she is the sister o’ Queen Jolie o’ Kinloch Kirk.” A muttering of interest ran around the room and I felt a quiet pride that my sister’s name carried so much weight here. “The vampire beside her is her man an’ ye will know his name too, even if the face is oonfamiliar, for this is Sinjin Sinclair, one o’ the last o’ the Master Vampires.” Again there was muttering around the room, but in a different register.

  I got the impression that, while they were all impressed by our connection to Jolie, they couldn’t believe Odran had dared to bring Sinjin here.

  Odran held up his hands. “Ah know. B oot joodge the man only after ye have his acquaintance. Ah daresay he has done mooch to earn his reputation, boot that was a time ago, an’ now he is a new man.” Odran looked at Sinjin. “A man Ah am proud to know, to stand beside, an’ to call mah friend.”

  The look on Sinjin’s face was almost comical—he was clearly moved by Odran’s very genuine tribute. In general, Odran had never been a favorite of Sinjin’s. But, I had a feeling that was in the process of changing… maybe.

  “Bryn is an Elemental,” Odran went on, “Sinjin a vampire. An’

  yet, they conceived a child together.” More whispering around the room. “A child that was stolen from within the womb. Taken an’

  replaced by a cursed changeling—a practice, Ah might add, outlawed by this very assembly oonder the kingship o’ me dear Daddy. Taken an’ replaced by one o’ our realm.” The court muttered disbelief but Odran went on. “Members o’ the Seelie Court, more than a generation ago, we put certain o’ the Fae folk in their place when they sought to break the rules we had laid down. Boot, to our shame, we did little to ensure they stayed in their place, an’ we allowed them to grow in pow
er once more. The bairn o’ Bryn an’ Sinjin was taken by the Fir Darrig!”

  The Court erupted. Cries of ‘Lies!’ and ‘Shame!’ broke out from around us. Boos and hisses. Some called for us to be thrown from the castle, others that we should be put in chains. I was surprised. And Sinjin was too.

  “Ah saw it with mah own eyes!” Odran roared above the tumult.

  “Drunk again!” one Fae shouted back. “Banish him!”

  “Ah ha’ the right to speak here!” Odran railed against the tide of his abusers. “Ah ha ve the right o’ mah crown, the right o’

  blood, an’ the right of mah arm. An’ if any o’ ye would like to challenge that right then ye may meet me now!”

  I would have been prepared to swear that there was a massed drawing back from the Court. Certainly the noise hushed, though the whispers of dissent continued.

  “None o’ ye have the manhood to face me?” Odran growled. “Ye talk a big talk, boot ye willnae back it up with yer fists?”

  “Silence.” Finvarra brought a metal sphere down onto a slab of black granite beside him that served as a gavel, and even Odran was quiet. “I will not have this chamber turned into a cock fight. But,” Finvarra’s grey eyes ranged across the gathered Fae,

  “I will also not countenance a man—a king no less—who has been given the ear of this assembly being treated in this way. We are the wild Fae, but we have respect for our traditions or we have nothing.” He looked back to Odran. “King Odran, the Fir Darrig has not been active for a long while. Have you any proof of your claim?”

  Odran nodded, though I was not sure what proof he could have. “Ah have the word o’ Queen Jolie, an’ that o’ Mathilda, the lady o’

  World’s End.”

  Even Finvarra looked taken aback by this. “Mathilda is alive? And living with Queen Jolie?”

  “She bides at Kinloch Kirk,” nodded Odran. “And has nae wish to return tae our realm. I wouldnae have broken her troost if Ah had a choice, boot she instructed me tae use her name if people reacted…” he looked around the chamber with disdain, “in sooch a fashion.”