Emma gasped when she noticed small curved horns growing from his temples.
The boy stood taller, revealing he had no shirt. An amulet of cord and animal fangs circled his neck.
“You’re not wearing a tunic,” said Emma. Something about this boy made her feel strange. She trusted him right away, and the urge to become friends with him grew strong. The more she looked at him, the more she wanted to run over and hug him.
“I’m not wearing anything at all,” said the boy. He leapt over the tree. From the waist down, he appeared to wear shaggy fur pants, but after a second of staring, the shock wore off and Emma realized he had the legs of a goat or deer, and a small tail to boot.
“Wow…” She blinked. “Are you a satyr, like Zaravex?”
He skipped over to her and offered a hand. She took it without hesitation, admiring the rich tan of his skin, deep compared to hers. “I’m a faun, and my name is Kes. What’s yours?”
She gazed into his eyes, the amber so bright it sparkled like tree sap in the sunlight. She found herself grinning, and took his hand. “I’m Emma.”
“A pleasure to meet you, Emma.” Kes kissed her knuckles, released her hand, and swept an arm in front of himself with a deep bow.
Emma couldn’t stop staring at him. “You live in this dreadful place?”
He sighed. “It is quite a bit less dreadful now that I have you to talk to.”
“You’re nice.”
“I’ve a feeling you are as well.” He grinned, arms out to the sides. “You are the first human I have not been frightened of.”
“You? Frightened?” She peered up at him. “But you’re… umm. Strong.”
Kes laughed. “The others did not feel as you do. I can tell you are different. Closer to everything.” He gestured at the forest.
Mawr lumbered up behind Emma and flopped on the ground to rest.
“Oh… he’s quite big.” Kes took a step back, tail twitching.
Emma blinked, dazed as if she’d snapped out of a fog. “He’s helping me.” She squinted at Kes. The odd desire to hug him had gone away, though she still wanted to trust him. “Were you doing something to me?”
“My apologies.” Kes bowed again. “It is my nature, not something I mean to do. I have to think about not doing it… If we spend enough time together, it will no longer affect you.”
Neema landed on her shoulder and whispered in her ear. “Faun he is. Charm girls do they.”
“You’re not going to hurt me, are you?” asked Emma.
Kes’s eyes widened with alarm. “Oh, never! I have been alone for a long time. It is nice to simply have someone to talk to.”
His roguish grin returned, and he lifted a small wooden flute to his lips. He played, dancing and weaving about her. When he stood still, his chin met about her eye level, but while he danced, he bobbed up and down. One moment he seemed shorter than her, the next, much taller depending on how far he stretched his legs. His necklace bounced off his chest as he spun, twirled, and leapt about. Despite being about the size of a twelve-year-old boy, his narrow hooves made only the noise of a baby deer scampering in the woods. Unseen insects and a bird or five joined in the melody.
Emma walked as his rapid, circling dance around her permitted, making her way to the fallen tree, careful not to bump into him. She pulled herself up to sit on the edge of the nest and let her feet dangle over the edge. He kept playing and dancing about in front of her while she nibbled on some of the faerie cakes from the leaf-pouch. Neema took one and perched on her leg, bobbing her head and clapping along with the music.
Minutes later when he stopped, Emma applauded. “You play beautifully.”
He hopped up to sit next to her, not the least bit out of breath after all that dancing and cavorting about. He grinned. She grinned, and giggled. He laughed.
“Do you play anything?” asked Kes.
“No… but sometimes I sing to my brother.”
Kes tilted his head. “Would you allow me the pleasure of hearing your voice, Emma?”
She thought for a second. The first song that came to mind she’d made up to calm Tam when he threw a fit at having to go inside one night. Emma thought back to the melody, took a breath, and sang.
“The daylight is fading, the wind turning cold.
A house, warm and waiting, the hearth burning gold.
Through forests and fields, how far you did roam.
Dear little brother, run far away home.
“Meadows stand silent as darkness draws near.
Your battle is won now, there’s nothing to fear.
The dragon is slain, the goblins have fled.
Soon, the brave knight will sleep safe in his bed.
“Your sword and your armor have served you true.
Tomorrow is brimming with promises new.
Your journey has ended, you’ve finished your quest.
Moonlight is coming, tis now time to rest.
“The daylight is fading, the wind turning cold.
A house, warm and waiting, the hearth burning gold.
Through forests and fields, how far you did roam.
Dear little brother, run far away home.”
Kes smiled, his amber eyes glimmering. “You have a beautiful voice. Never have I heard such wonderful singing.”
A hint of blush warmed her cheeks. She fidgeted and tried to stop staring at him. “My brother Tam is still little, and I sing to make him feel better when he’s upset.”
He gave her a curious look. “What is a knight?”
“Umm, a knight is like a soldier, but instead of fighting in wars they do quests and things to help people.” A knot of worry weighed in her gut, dreading the amount of trouble she’d be in when or if she ever made it home. “Tam thinks they spend all their time trying to kill dragons.”
He scratched his head. “A knight is a human? I would think a dragon wouldn’t be bothered by something so small.”
“I don’t know.” Emma bowed her head, swinging her feet back and forth. “There’s stories about knights and dragons.”
Kes leaned against the nest beside her. “I know a few stories, but none are of dragons. Tales of maidens fair and brave men doing noble deeds.”
“I’m glad I met you. I was afraid only the Silverbell Faeries were nice here.” She looked up and managed a weak smile.
“Why are you in the world of the faeries?
“Neema asked me to help her people because animals were attacking them. I’m a druid, so she hoped I could talk to them and find out why. I think a conjurer is sending false creatures to hurt them.”
He grinned. “So you are a knight?”
“I’m not.”
“Are you not on a quest to help someone other than yourself?”
She huffed. “Yes, but I’m not wearing armor and I don’t have a sword.”
He blinked. “Is that important?”
“Not to me, but… a knight has armor and a sword.”
“Do they all?” He winked.
“Umm. I don’t know.”
“I would like very much to be friends, Emma.” Kes offered a hand. “But just friends now since I am young… only 204.”
She gawked at him, but took his hand. “You’re… wow. I’m ten.”
He held her hand for a moment in silence. “Humans are different from fauns, but I still would like to be your friend.”
“You’re not charming me now, are you?” She grinned.
Kes shook his head. “No.” His eyebrows perked up with a sudden idea and he took two steps back. “Follow me. I’d like to show you something.”
“I should be sleeping soon. I have to find the conjurer.”
He bowed. “This will take only a few minutes.”
She narrowed her eyes. I’ve heard that before. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, it isn’t far.”
I’ve heard that before too. Against her better judgement, she jumped down from the nest and took his hand.
Kes led her into t
he small patch of forest on the island in the midst of the swamp. She caught herself staring in wonder at his tail and legs, and the line about his waist where goat fur stopped and human skin started. He looked like a farm boy, thin but strong, and moved with the grace of an elf.
“What is it like to have hooves?”
He grinned at her. “What is it like to have toes?”
She looked down at her feet. “Umm… I can wiggle them and stuff, and sometimes I jam them into the bedpost and it hurts.”
“Not a bad answer.” He laughed. “You can’t really describe it because it’s all you know.”
A faint hissing noise up ahead grew to a mild roar as they walked. He led her a little ways deeper into the bushes and ducked a low-hanging vine. Emma followed, holding on to mossy tree trunks for balance while stepping over and around huge roots.
Neema followed close by, though the faerie didn’t seem worried at all, so Emma kept calm.
“Not much farther,” said Kes.
“All right.”
He led her to a spot where a pair of trees had grown close together, with a ‘staircase’ of lumpy root gnarls leading up to a narrow gap between them. Without hesitation, he leapt up and through the gap, landing out of sight on the other side.
Emma braced her hands on the trees and tried to climb the roots, but her feet slipped off the slick moss. Linganthas, please grant me the Druid’s Step.
“Do you need help, Emma?” asked Kes.
She smiled in thanks at the plant spirit and raced up the roots, her footing as sure as a dryad’s. Kes started to reach through to offer his hand, but jumped back with a yelp of surprise when she barreled into the gap and nearly crashed into him. She sprang off the top, landing beside him upon a carpet of dark green grass as soft as cat fur.
“I’m a druid, remember.” She held her chin high.
“So I see.” Kes laughed at himself. “You are a most interesting friend.”
Emma reached up and brushed a fingertip at one of his horns. “You are as well.”
“Almost there.” He grinned, and gestured at a small pond not far away, lined with wildflowers.
The flowers started off a deep reddish purple nearest them, and shifted to blue before becoming green and white toward the far side. At the back of the pond, a waterfall cascaded down rocky steppes covered in moss of metallic gold. Deep-red flowers perched upon green stalks near the cascading churn. Long petals ringed by another set of broader leaves made them resemble dragon’s heads.
“Wow…” Emma stared at the scenery. “This is so pretty. Thank you for showing me this.”
Kes crouched low and fussed with something. “I thought you would like it.”
“Wait… isn’t this an island? Why is there a waterfall here?”
“It’s a tiny mountain at the very center of my island. The water bubbles up inside it and spills over the top.”
“This is your island?” She leaned back, eyebrows up.
He laughed. “Well, I live here right now. So, it is mine.”
“I suppose that makes sense.” She turned her head to watch a passing butterfly that appeared made of amber glass.
Kes stood, hiding something behind his back. Emma narrowed her eyes at him in playful suspicion as he trotted over.
“What are you hiding?”
Kes grinned and produced a crown of wildflowers.
Blushing, she ducked a little so he could put it on her head. “They’re pretty. Thank you!”
He bowed before taking her hand. “As promised, only a few minutes.”
Emma smiled at the beautiful waterfall pond for a little longer before following him back to his hanging bed. He brought her to the side of the ‘nest,’ and gestured at it.
“You may sleep here tonight.”
“I don’t want to steal your bed.”
Kes shook his head. “It is fine. You will need strength for your quest.”
She fought the urge to roll her eyes, but pulled herself up into the giant swaying bowl. Kes caught her left ankle, and tickled the bottom of her foot.
Emma squealed and rolled onto her back, laughing. “Stop! Stop!”
He kept tickling her while she writhed and giggled, until she sat up and tried to grab his hand. With that, he let go, and they touched foreheads, his horns pressing against the sides of her temples.
Eye to eye, nose to nose, he winked. “So that’s what it’s like to have toes.”
Emma’s laughter subsided to a broad grin. “That wasn’t fair.”
He tilted his head, his horns making hers tilt as well. “What will you do when you finish your quest?”
Her sad eyes turned downcast. “I’ll go home.”
“You long to be with your family. I can feel your love for them.”
“Yes.” Emma sniffled.
“I would travel with you then. When you go home, you will no longer be in the faerie world. While you are here, I would like to spend time with you.”
Emma reclined, curling up in a ball at the deepest point of the bowl-shaped nest. “All right, but I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“I don’t want you to be hurt.” He winked and pulled a blanket of woven grass over her.
Emma smiled. Neema draped herself over Emma’s head, one arm dangling in front of her eye.
“Friends?” whispered Kes.
She yawned, nodding. “Friends.”
he next morning, Kes offered her a pale white tuber. He demonstrated snapping it in half and eating the insides, which tasted similar to mashed potatoes and butter, only cold. The lack of sweetness made it a welcome change from the faerie cakes she’d been eating for three days. He fed a few of the same vegetables to Mawr, who ate them whole. Neema turned her nose up at them, and devoured an entire cake herself. Emma blinked in disbelief as the tiny woman polished off a cake larger than her head.
After finishing her meal, Emma hopped up on Mawr’s back with Kes sitting behind her. He seemed less comfortable about the idea of riding upon a bear, and fidgeted about until finally putting his arms around her from behind. Emma smiled to herself. Sometimes, she found it annoying how everyone in Widowswood, especially all the grownups, felt it necessary to constantly pat her head, squeeze her shoulder, or full-on hug her. However, for some reason, she didn’t mind Kes clinging to her.
Not even a little bit.
Neema hopped off her shoulder, slid down the front of Emma’s dress, and marched over the bear’s head to stand almost at the point of his snoot. “There almost are we.”
“How much more swamp is there?” asked Emma.
“Darbolg is vast,” said Kes. “But it is long to the north and south, and we are heading west. If we keep going this way, we’ll reach the edge in a few hours.”
Emma nodded. Strixian, please let my family know I am okay.
Mawr traversed deep pools that forced him to swim, shallower water that let him trudge, and short patches of solid ground between waterways. A few hours after they’d left Kes’s island, a cluster of hawk-sized moths went by, each radiating a dingy white glow. They corkscrewed about as if they couldn’t manage a straight line. One slapped into the side of a tree with a distinct “oof.” He clung for a few seconds before mumbling, “Oh, where did that tree come from?” and taking wing again.
Emma giggled.
Swaths of solid ground became more and more frequent as they continued west. A bit over two hours after the lightmoths went by, Mawr pulled himself out of the water at what appeared to be the edge of the swamp. He caught his breath and got walking again. The fog lessened over the next several minutes, and soon the familiar roperoot trees surrounded them.
Mawr marched onward, navigating the crisscross of thick wooden tubes with little effort, pausing here and there to feast on berries as big as Emma’s fist. She reached out and grabbed a few after Neema assured her a human could eat them without worry. They resembled plums, and smelled sweet. She took two, and gave Kes three.
The inside flesh had a dark purple c
olor and tasted like blackberry. A fibrous strand in the middle connected the top to the bottom, ringed with lots of hard seeds. Emma nibbled around them, pleasantly full after finishing her two. Neema ate a hair less than half of one, and Emma finished it off. Kes ate his in three bites apiece, consuming everything―including the seed thread.
Soon after the berry stop, a moving patch of bright pink caught her eye up ahead beyond some trees. She perked up, staring in that direction, stunned at the idea she might’ve spotted a walking flower. Before she could ask Kes what she’d seen, a creature wandered into view, seeming in all ways but color a goat. It lifted its head in curiosity, staring at them as if it couldn’t quite understand the meaning of an enormous bear carrying a human child and a faun.
“Hello,” said Emma.
Another goat appeared, this one lemon yellow. Behind it two more, one green and one blue.
The pink one let out howling laughter like an insane man.
Emma jumped at the sudden piercing noise. “Ack!”
“Aaaaaaaaaah!” screamed the green goat.
“Bwahahahahah!” roared the yellow goat.
The blue one threw its head back and cackled.
“Hello?” asked Emma.
Eight goats stared at her with blank expressions. As she opened her mouth to speak again, they all shrieked at once with a noise like a crowd of people screaming in terror, though their expressions remained… bored.
Emma jumped again. “What’s wrong with them?”
“Being false I think.” Neema scratched her head. “Talking to you can?”
“Ahhh! Ahhh! Ahhh!” The purple goat sounded like a man being boiled alive.
“No. They’re only laughing and screaming.”
“They don’t feel like animals,” said Kes.
Neema giggled. “Know them do you?”
Emma winced.
“No.” Kes laughed. “I’ve not met them before.”
“We must be getting close,” said Emma. “I think the conjurer made them.”
“Aaaaaaaaaah!” shrieked the red goat. Though it sounded like a terrified man, the animal stood there chewing on a branch with a sleepy expression.
Emma and the Silverbell Faeries Page 15
