Instantly, they retreated and a buzz of alarm arose, filling the immediate area with a high-pitched whining noise, like a swarm of bees. One of the angry little creatures flew at her and poked her cheek with the tip of a tiny sword.
“Ow!” Sara cried, slapping her hand to her stinging face.
“Enough of that, Pixies!” Muriel shouted. After a moment or two, the buzzing died down and the colorful lights disappeared. As Sara’s eyes adjusted to the absence of the pixie’s light, she thought she saw a tall, dark form slither behind a tall tree. She gasped in alarm, and the cat hissed, growling low in its throat.
Muriel stopped and raised her stick like a sword, but whatever Sara glimpsed in the shadows had disappeared. “We need to make haste,” the nymph uttered and moved swiftly ahead of the rest.
After a few minutes, Sara and her companions arrived at a small village. Tiny people scurried about and formed into a sort of impromptu welcome committee. They were sprites, like little Pollo. Sara was touched when one of the creatures approached bearing a bouquet of flowers, almost as big as she was.
Dandelions, primrose, Indian paintbrush and lupine made up the sprites offering, and Sara knelt down and thanked the little black-haired woman for the beautiful gift. The female blushed and said, “I am Pollo’s ma, and I apologize if he has given any offense, Lady”
Sara smiled, and answered, “Your son is very sweet, Ma’am.”
The female sprite seemed pleased and moved back into line as an older, red-bearded male approached. He wore a crown made out of dried vines and wore a cloak made of twigs, pinecones and shiny seeds. He was a magnificent looking fellow and Sara bowed her head in respect. He peered up at her shining figure and thought, yes; this witch is powerful, indeed!
“Greetings, witch! I am Sylvan, king of these sprites,” Sylvan said and watched in alarm, as the girl’s face turned as red as a strawberry. “My lady, have I caused offense?” he squeaked.
Sara shook her head and chuckled. “No sir. It’s just that calling someone a witch where I come from is meant as an insult.”
Sylvan sputtered, “An insult? My lady, being called a hag or a demon’s spawn is to be insulted here. A witch, well, that is like calling a mountain a mountain. You are either a witch or you are not. The only difference is whether you are addressing a good witch or one who has aligned with darkness. Anyone with common sense would think twice before insulting a witch of either flavor!”
The little king had grown quite pink in his haste to explain, and Muriel stepped close. “Sylvan, let us sit and try to explain things fully. This girl has much to learn.”
“Yes, yes…” Sylvan muttered, as refreshments were brought forward and the guests made themselves comfortable. Sara sat cross-legged on the ground and sipped water that was so cold and fresh it made her eyes ache. She sniffed a muffin and took a small bite, smiling as a burst of honey and the smoky taste of nuts filled her mouth. Then Muriel cleared her throat.
“Ahem,” she began, staring out at her audience. “We have gathered here today in order to train this young witch and to help fulfill her birthright. How many of you have sensed the darkness that creeps onto our land?”
The sprites stirred uneasily at the nymph’s question. It was plain to see that many in attendance had felt the touch of evil that was making its way slowly, insidiously, across the realm.
Hands shot up into the air and the nymph nodded. “Yes, their power grows. Timaron, the fairy king, has declared war on humans, Sara. I believe that, in his madness, he has unleashed demons upon the world. These demons hold great and terrible powers…” Muriel paused as she observed the expression on the girl’s face.
“Usually,” she continued. “The dark fae and demon spawn are held in check by the fae of light. Fairy royalty, elven sorcerers and human wizards band together and cast wards to keep the darkness at bay. Now, however, things have changed. Timaron has gone insane, the wizards have fled and the elves… the Seeli and the Unseelie, are at war amongst themselves. That’s where you come in,” she concluded.
Sara mouthed, Me? The look of puzzlement in her eyes was almost comical.
Muriel wasn’t smiling, though, as she nodded. “Yes, you Sara. It is our belief that some sort of dark creature has seized control of Timaron’s senses. It could be a number of things… a hobyah, a pooka… a bogy… even all three working together to steal the king’s mind and soul. All three of these creatures hold dark, insidious powers. They will drive a man insane with fear, despair, and rage,” she sighed and added, “I do not have the time, right now, to teach you the ways of all magical creatures, but I will endeavor to instruct you if you decide to help us.”
“Unfortunately,” she added, “as the powers of the dark realm gain strength, our powers diminish. That is why we hope you will help us.” Muriel studied Sara and the nimbus glow of light that surrounded her.
“We think that you are a healer. Did your teacher, er… your mother ever say so before she died?”
Sara nodded, and Muriel smiled.
“You see, because you are human and not constrained by magic, the dark powers cannot steal and nullify your gifts. We think that, with a little training, you can journey to the underworld and cast out whatever has seized control of the fairy king.”
The look of fear on Sara’s face was profound. Muriel added, “Oh, we would not have you go alone. We want you to pick a champion, one of your own kind. This will help keep you… grounded. Some of the places you will journey through are too strange for one human being to visit with only fae for company.”
“Um… how long will this journey take?” Sara drew a breath, “that is, if I DO decide to go?” She clutched her hands together nervously.
The nymph named Muriel, intimidated her. There was a permanent frown wedged between her eyebrows and her shiny white teeth were pointed like fangs and glittered balefully in the light. Sara could not help but wonder if these creatures would simply kidnap her and force her to do their bidding if she refused to help.
Muriel observed the terror in Sara’s eyes and responded, “Child, it would do us no good to abduct you. A witch’s power to heal must come from her desire to help. Healers, both magical and human, draw their strength from love and kindness. They cannot be coerced.”
Great, Sara thought, Muriel can read minds, too!
The nymph grinned, adding, “As to your question, time moves differently in this realm, from what you are used to.” She frowned in concentration. “It is fluid and can be manipulated. What might take weeks or months, here in this place, might only be a few hours or a day in your world.” She paused and said, “Sara, we are not asking you to give up your life as a human. We are aware that you have a guardian at home… your father, I think, who would miss you terribly.”
Sara nodded thoughtfully. “So is this… mission dangerous?”
Muriel glanced at Sylvan quickly, before looking at Sara again. “We will not lie to you, Sara. The answer is yes. We would train you and your champion to face obstacles the dark powers would put in your way. In addition, we have picked out a small army to accompany you on your journey. You will not face the darkness alone.”
Muriel drew in a deep breath. “Sara, I know that we are asking a lot of you. You need to remember, though, that this war not only affects the fae realm, but yours as well. The earth trembles in anguish as the dark ones gain power and human beings…indeed, all creatures, in every realm, stand on the brink of ruin!”
“Will you help us, little witch?” the nymph asked softly.
Chapter 8
“Can I think about it?” Sara asked. She understood, really she did and wanted to help but she was also frightened. She did not miss the worried exchange of glances between Sylvan and Muriel, and the fearful tremble of the littlest sprite’s fingers. She knew that this was no game and was not sure if she was up to the challenge.
“Yes, child, we would expect no less from you,” the nymph replied. “We will accompany you back to the road, and leave you th
ere to make your way home. If you find it in your heart to help us, just be there at this time tomorrow night. We will come to fetch you then.” Muriel snapped her fingers. “Oh yes, please find your champion and bring him, or her along with you when you come, Sara. Time, however you measure it, is of the essence.”
She pulled a feather from the pocket of her cloak and handed it to the girl. “This is a Quempel feather. It carries strong magic and will act as a ward against evil, until you return.” She paused and whispered, “And it may be of some service if you decide not to return.”
Well wishes and cries of farewell followed Sara and her small entourage as they left the sprite’s village and made their way through the woods. It was darker now, as if dusk had finally made an appearance in the fae land as well as her own. Sara kept one eye on the path as she followed Hissaphat through the trees and one eye on the encroaching forest. She thought she saw tall shadowy shapes darting here and there, slipping behind tree trunks and kneeling behind large boulders.
It did not help that the cat was growling continuously and Muriel was holding her stick up high, as if it was a sword, instead of just a gnarled branch. Finally, they came to the place where their worlds met and, just like that, she was standing alone by the side of the road. Alone, that is, except for the cat and the little woodpecker, who flew down out a tree branch and landed on the ground by Hissaphat. It gazed at her with one eye, and said, “Caw?”
“She said she would think about it, Ms. Rattle,” Hiss drawled, rolling his large yellow eyes in disgust. Staring up at her, the cat continued, “We will go our separate ways now, human witch. My companions and I will be watching you, though. The dark forces dwell here as well as in the world of the fae. This is the one thing I fear you do not understand. The earthquake was a magical occurrence… not natural and my whiskers sense more mischief is yet to come. Search your heart, girl. Muriel would never have sought your help if the situation was not dire.”
With those words, the cat walked away into the night. Looking down the road, Sara wondered what time it was, and if her dad was worried. She could just make out the warm glow of the porch light on her house and she started jogging up the road. She saw headlights approaching and watched as her father’s Jeep pulled into the driveway.
“Hey, you’re home early,” Thomas smiled as he grabbed his briefcase and climbed out of the vehicle.
“I am?” Sara squeaked, and asked, “What time is it?”
Thomas glanced at his wristwatch and said, “About 9:30. I thought you said the café stayed open until 11:00?”
Sara was shocked. She thought that many hours had passed while she walked in the fairy realm, but only a few minutes had transpired here in her world. She nodded, and tried to act normal. “Yeah, it does normally, but they closed early because… well, because of everything that happened today.”
Her father lightly touched the small bandage on her forehead, “How are you doing, honey?”
“I’m fine, Dad. No harm done.” Thomas and Sara walked into their new home, chatting about their individual experiences during the earthquake, as Hissaphat and two of his cousins watched from a nearby field.
*
The next morning, Sara called both Chloe and Nate. She invited them to brunch at the cafe, her treat, knowing that she wanted much more from them than a lunch date. She had tossed and turned all night long, thinking about what happened and whom she had met. She could not help but wonder if the whole experience was some sort of dream, or a psychotic episode.
Every time she grew convinced that her meeting with the fae was just a side effect of a blow to the head by the display case, though, she pulled out the Quempel feather. She gazed at it, stroked it, and understood that the fae and the talking cat were very real and that they desperately needed her help.
She was tired, but Sara scurried around the house cleaning and making sure that everything was in perfect order. She made her father a nice stew and set a bowl and some crackers on the table for him to find. She hoped that the nymph was not lying when she said that the fae could manipulate time. She hated to think of her dad’s heartache if his daughter disappeared… forever. Finally, she filled her backpack with clothes and toiletries.
She had made up her mind to help. She remembered now how it felt to heal someone… the feelings of peace and love that filled her up and ran out of her fingertips into Nate’s body when he was hurt and needed help. She understood that, for some reason, she would only be happy… fulfilled as a human being, when she did what she was meant to do; be a healer. Even her mom had sensed that was Sara’s destiny.
Finished finally, Sara looked around at her home and prayed she would live to see it, and her father, again. She shouldered her pack and started walking down the road toward town. She thought she saw Hiss winding his way through the weeds and wondered if he understood her intentions. His scorn at her hesitation hurt her feelings, and she hoped he noticed when she set her pack down in the tall bushes by the rendezvous site.
She gazed around trying to find the ornery feline, but he was nowhere in sight. Actually, it was so silent in the forest that Sara felt a chill of alarm. No birds chirped in the trees overhead, and no squirrel or chipmunk wrestled in the underbrush. It was as if the forest was holding its breath in apprehension. Sara shuddered… the chill was physical as well as emotional now, as the sun hid its face in the clouds.
Then Sara heard the sound of a car’s engine coming up the road behind her. Turning around, she saw a large, black SUV idling in the road about thirty feet away from where she stood. It was a Cadillac Escalade, its shiny chrome grill and jeweled emblem glittering in the gloom.
Suddenly, Sara felt sick to her stomach. She staggered as nausea roiled through her belly and her head spun. Then she heard a cat hiss from across the road. “Sara, keep walking. Those are witches… human witches, like you. Unlike you, however, they have embraced the darkness. Now go!” Hissaphat screeched.
Sara turned around and walked swiftly toward town as the big black car followed in her wake. Her heart raced with dread and the certain knowledge that whoever sat in the darkened interior of that vehicle meant her harm. She thought she heard someone whispering in her ear. Hiss cried, “Do not listen to them, Sara! Keep walking.”
The closest house was only about thirty feet away- surely, those people… those witches would not try anything in broad daylight… or would they? Her back crawled in clammy anticipation. She noticed that Hissaphat wasn’t alone. There were many cats with him today. They surrounded her and kept pace with her as she entered the town proper.
There were Tabby cats, Manx, black cats and yellow, Siamese cats, and Persians, young and old, groomed and scruffy. They marched to either side of her as Hissaphat glared and growled at the SUV with the blacked-out windows.
Sara stopped finally, and gulped. She would rather face her assailants than let them sneak up behind her. She turned to face them and, for a moment, Sara and the people inside the car faced each other down. Then the vehicle accelerated, motoring past her and down the road. Its taillights illuminated the snowflakes that skittered through the morning air like furtive spirits. Sara stared up into the sky in shock.
It’s May 15th, for Pete’s sake! Sara thought, shivering. Looking about, she saw that all of the cats, including Hiss, were gone now. She felt much better physically as well. The horrible nausea had left, along with the black car. Sara wondered if the people inside had cast a spell on her, or if being a witch enabled her to sense the darkness in other witches, like a hound can smell fear.
Either way she was safe, for now, and it was freezing. Sara hugged herself for warmth and hurried down the sidewalk to the café, which was about three blocks away. A car full of kids sped by, and someone hollered, “Hey Sara, it’s snowing!”
As if, I don’t know that! Sarah smiled and waved, blowing snow off her nose. Staring ahead, she saw that Chloe and Nate were standing in front of the restaurant, waiting for her to show up. She picked up the pace and then she
was with her fiends as they laughed and stamped their feet against the cold air.
“Come on, Sara; let’s get inside where it’s warm!” Nate grabbed her hand and dragged her inside the double doors as Chloe complained, “What took you so long, slowpoke?”
It was about 1:30 in the afternoon, and the lunch crowd had left, leaving plenty of booths empty. Sara led her friends toward the back, away from the other customers. The owner’s wife, Cindy, brought them menus and asked for their drink orders when they sat down. While her new friends ordered and studied the menus, Sara watched their faces and wondered if she was doing the right thing.
The fae wanted her to bring a champion, a human companion, along on the mission. She thought about asking her dad to come but he could not afford to take any time away from work. In addition, Sara did not think that Thomas was mentally stable enough to accept the fae and their world. He had only just stopped drinking alcohol, after all, and she worried that he would be too freaked out and concerned over her welfare to do what needed to be done to stop the darkness.
She didn’t know anyone else except for a few friends in Denver. They were so spaced out, though; Sara knew that even if they could make their way here overnight, they would be little, if any, help at all. Was it fair of her to drag these two wonderful young people into such a dangerous situation? She knew, for a fact, that her safety was not guaranteed, why would theirs be? They could be killed!
The worry on her face must have been apparent, because Nate stopped talking with Chloe and said, “Sara, what’s wrong?”
The War of Odds Page 5
