The Whispers of the Sprite (The Whispers Series #1)

by Joanna Mazurkiewicz

  By the end of November it rains constantly. I struggle to get out of bed in the mornings. The temperature drops significantly. My visit to the hospital went well despite the lack of sleep the night before; the doctor informs me that the wound is healing nicely. I keep quiet about my mysterious experiences with creatures from fairy tales.

  After a few weeks since the check up, I am able to take off the bandage; the nasty scar is visible and it will constantly remind me what had happened in Swansea for years to come. Despite that, I feel that this period in my life is finally over. My odd ‘disability’ is still present.

  Gabriel doesn’t visit me as he promised, but he keeps an eye on me, however when I decide to go to my room after a large meal downstairs he is already there waiting for me. I stand in the door and my jaw hangs open. It’s been weeks since we last spoke and now he is in my room again.

  ‘Evening’ he says folding his arms together leaning on the window. My heart bit speeds up as if the awareness of him standing in my room is driving me mad.

  ‘Hi’ I squeak and close the door behind me ‘What are you doing here?’

  ‘I promised that I would come back’ he responds gazing me at me intensely ‘I have to apologise that I didn’t come back earlier, I had to deal with other issues.’

  ‘Am I going to find out more about you today?’ I ask, walking across my own bedroom. I am angry that he didn’t come back when he was supposed to. I was going to study today but now this is not going to happen. I toss my red hair and sit down on my bed pretending that his presence doesn’t have any effect on me. I shouldn’t be so direct but I am curious to know more about him.

  ‘Yes, I came back to explain more about our world.’

  ‘Great.’

  He doesn’t take his blue eyes off me, and then he shifts his position by the window and walks up to me.

  ‘Do you mind if I sit down?’

  The smell of spearmint, cypress wood and bergamot hits me again and my mind starts to spin. I stare at him bewildered, he smiles.

  ‘Yes, sure,’ I murmur, feeling like my face is heating up.

  Why do I always have to behave like a total idiot? He is so much closer than I ever anticipated the electric current shoots through my body; the air shifts. I’ve got to pull myself together.

  ‘Well I thought that it would be good to start from the basics, although I already explained that humans aren’t able to see us. If I reveal to the Council that there is a human that knows about us, you would be probably dead already.’

  I don’t know what is going on with me, but my heart is pounding, his eyes are on me and he expected me to ask him a question but I don’t think I can talk right now.

  ‘The Council detests emotions of love. We have been brought up to avoid depending on that emotion; that’s why you are vulnerable. I can influence you but you can change me as well.’

  ‘How?’ I ask finally finding my voice.

  ‘I can start experiencing forbidden emotions, and if they found out about me then they would kill me. I would probably dishonour my family,’ he adds shifting his weight. He is too close and I can’t think straight.

  ‘Tell me more about your family?’

  I am surprised with myself for being so forward with him. He raises his left eyebrow and smiles.

  ‘I do like to be around humans, my mother is tightly involved with the Council, she is the highest member and if she would find out about you she would be the first person that would vote for my death.’

  ‘Your own mother?’ I ask, staring at him with disbelief.

  ‘You’ve got to understand that she has to obey to rules. She worked hard to be in her position and she doesn’t give second chances,’ he pauses ‘Me, on the other hand, I was never interested in politics.’

  ‘So what are you interested with?’

  He doesn’t respond straight away, his eyes wonder to the window. Maybe it’s a personal question but Gabriel doesn’t seem to care about the rules. He is confident to carry on with meeting with me. He sounds different when he is talking about the council and these odd laws.

  ‘Our lives were different when there were changelings around. We had more freedom.’

  ‘Changelings?’

  ‘You should know this from the history; we used to swap infants years before but this practice has been stopped...’

  ‘What do you mean by swapping children?’ I ask.

  ‘Maybe you are too young to understand what I mean, but before we used to take human infants and replace them with our own, to allow them to have better life.’

  ‘What?’ I stand up feeling like a stone was just dropped into my stomach, ‘You used to steal children?’

  ‘If you read your history books, then you would know that this process was common in past centuries,’ he responds coldly.

  I blank rapidly trying to stop my racing heart. He thinks that I am stupid; I have never heard about changelings, this sounds so cruel.

  ‘Are you going to sit down so I can tell you more about me, rather than changelings? I think I brought that subject up too early,’ he says in husky voice. I hesitate, but sit down feeling that our connection is stronger than I originally though. I’ve got so many questions but I don’t know what I should ask him first. He appears to be confident he knows it all.

  ‘No, tell me more about changelings. I need to know,’ I press.

  ‘I don’t want to discuss this now,’ he cuts in and I think he is angry. I never expected him to be so touchy about this subject.

  ‘Well then, let’s talk about something else,’ I say coldly. ‘For example where do you live?’

  ‘Near the beach in Three Cliffs Bay, our homes aren’t visible for humans, we tend to stay closer to the coastline, but others normally live in the middle of nowhere. Before your ability developed I have been around you often.’

  ‘What about your father? Is he involved with the Council as well?’

  ‘No,’ he responds, ‘My father isn’t too keen on council rules, we have similar values, and although my mother is tied to the Council, my father doesn’t think that everything they do is necessary.’

  ‘For example?’

  ‘Well I need at least a few hours to talk about it, which unfortunately I don’t have.’

  ‘Right.’

  ‘There will be another time,’ he hisses, leaning slightly closer and an electric current shoots through me again. ‘Goodbye.’

  Then he is gone; yet again he didn’t explain everything, just leaving me with questions. Maybe partly it’s my fault because I tend to ask a lot of questions and haven’t got my patience. I need to stop thinking about how I am reacting every time he is close to me.

  To distract myself from my confusing feelings I switch on my laptop and start searching for the term ‘changeling’. Surprisingly, I find a lot of articles about the myth. The stories go back as early as the fifteenth century. I stay up for a few hours, reading about this fascinating history. So he was right; we always believed that fairies were stealing our children, but no one was ever able to see them. Gabriel said that it doesn’t happen anymore. He said that this practice has been stopped. I should ask him why, but we didn’t get into that. I fall asleep thinking about his blue eyes wondering why I am the only one that can see them. I need to find out about the past; there was someone else that had similar gift to mine.

  The next few days pass quickly, but I still have Gabriel in my mind; George keeps calling, surprisingly making an effort. He promises to visit me sometime soon, but he isn’t specific, as usual.

  Since I left London my life has been transformed. Unexpectedly, my phone is silent for a few days. Mum stopped calling me and I am not sure what is happening to her. Finally, on Sunday evening, I manage to get hold of her, and after nagging questions she reveals that she had a date. However, this is the only information that I am able to get out of her. I can hear in her voice that she is embarrassed and isn’t comfortable talking about this with me. I hang up the phone, feeling happy th
at she is finally getting on with her life. Mum is in her mid-forties and spends far too much of her time concentrating on me; I hope that this will bring more and more opportunities for her to find someone else close to her heart.

  A few days after the conversation with Mum and an interesting time with Gabriel, I open the front door, wondering who is knocking at our student pad so late on this gloomy Friday evening.

  ‘Hello Ania,’ says George, standing outside smiling widely. I stare at him, unable to say anything, frozen. George hands me the flowers and kisses me unexpectedly. The kiss is surprising, and I expect a burst of the usual emotions to arise; instead I feel nothing.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ I ask, confused and worried, still standing in the doorway.

  ‘I told you that I would come to see you. I missed you,’ he explains, stepping inside.

  Reluctantly, I let him in. I close the door, feeling defeated as he makes himself comfortable on the sofa in the living room. Michael and Carl are in the kitchen, cooking supper. He looks good, his blond hair is styled and he is wearing a dark blazer with designer jeans. Normally, under these circumstances I would be happy to see him, but his visit is so unpredictable that I am more worried than excited.

  ‘Hey guys. This is George, a friend,’ I say, looking at Mike and Carl, who are busy debating on the choice of ingredients that they should add to their curry.

  ‘I hate to correct you darling but I am your boyfriend,’ says George, smiling. Mike and Carl are staring at me, uncertain. ‘Nice to meet you guys.’

  My housemates acknowledge his greeting with a nod and get back to their exotic dish. I am just about to take George upstairs to my room to find out what exactly he is doing in my house, when Amy walks in, looking all dressed-up and glamorous. She added long blonde extensions to her hair; she has a black maxi dress on and hasn’t overdone it with the makeup tonight.

  ‘Ania, are you ready?’ she asks, not noticing George, who is talking to Carl and Michael in the kitchen.

  ‘Ready?’ I ask blankly.

  ‘Don’t tell me that you forgot about tonight’s party?’

  ‘Party?’ George interrupts while walking back into the living room. I sigh, trying to take a deep breath.

  ‘Oh Amy, this is George, my friend from London,’ I say, stepping forward and smiling. I have mentioned George to Amy, but it was a very brief description, intently avoiding the complicated relationship part.

  ‘I have to correct her all the time. I am her boyfriend,’ adds George and winks at Amy, who starts laughing. I roll my eyes and I think I have already lost the battle with George with regards to the status of our relationship.

  ‘Umm…’ This is the only coherent sound that I am able to make.

  ‘So are you guys coming to the party?’ asks Amy.

  ‘No, I don’t think –’

  ‘Of course we are. Ania will go upstairs to change and get ready. So what kind of party is it?’

  I leave them discussing details about the wild student party. I walk to my room, feeling overwhelmed and angry with myself. I invited him, but I didn't expect him to show up so quickly. George is behaving strangely. I am not in the mood to go out, and I especially don't want to go out with George and Amy at the same time. At this point, I don't have any choice so I put on my best dress and make my way back downstairs. When I join them, George and Amy are still engaged in a conversation about the nightclubs in London. Michael and Carl are sitting opposite, looking annoyed as they are trying to watch a football match on the TV. I give them an apologetic look and put a smile on my face.

  When we finally leave the house, Amy is talking about how much she enjoyed herself at the last party she went to; George takes my hand and looks as if he is actively listening to my housemate. I am feeling uncertain about this whole evening; we have a problematic history and I am the only one who always ends up crying because of him. There have been many situations when we went out together and by the end of the night, I had to get home by myself because my ‘boyfriend’ disappeared unexpectedly. I am not sure what’s changed tonight; George is charming and caring and has brought flowers. I feel on alert and suspicious.

  It is dark when we leave the house and it is raining, we decide to take a taxi. The house party is somewhere on Mumbles Road, when we reach our destination I find myself staring at a three-story town house filled with drunken students. I haven’t noticed any Sprites around, though I expect them to keep themselves away from crowds of people. Amy announces that she is going to get us drinks. The music is loud and there is a variety of alcohol in the kitchen; people seem to be enjoying themselves. We are in the living room when Amy appears again and hands me a glass of rosé wine and a pint of beer for George. Then she vanishes, explaining that she has to meet a French bloke that she was introduced to at the last party.

  ‘So why are you really here, George?’ I ask, making sure that I sound serious; I have to raise my voice, as the music is so loud. He looks at me as if he didn't understand my question.

  ‘I told you I missed you,’ he says and begins kissing my neck gently. I shiver, but I am not going to let him fool me, I push him away.

  ‘Where were you for all that week when I was in the hospital?’ I continue, as I don't want to fall for his charm so soon, he looks at me for a while and takes a pull on his beer.

  ‘I didn't know that you were in the hospital and I have been thinking how badly I treated you in the past,’ he is staring at me, his honey-brown eyes full of pity. ‘I want us to be real now.’

  My jaw drops. George is expressing real feeling towards me. I can't believe what I am hearing. On any other occasion, I would be over the moon but today feelings for him are no longer in my heart, I don't want him to feel this way.

  ‘What do you mean by ‘real’’?’ I ask, taking a sip of wine. ‘Being a real couple?’

  If he is not really serious he would back off at this point, but his expression doesn't change.

  ‘I thought about it for a long time and I want us to be together.’

  I smile and decide to play it my way, remembering all the times when I cried because of his lack of emotions. My subconscious reminds me about the handsome sprite who visited me a while ago.

  ‘Let me think about it. For now let’s enjoy this party,’ I say, almost whispering and push him in the middle of the floor where everyone is dancing. He doesn't have a chance to say anything else but his expression clearly shows that he didn't expect the answer I gave him. I drink the large glass of rosé, forgetting about all the tensions from last week. I want to get drunk tonight. The music is fast, and I am feeling amazingly relaxed. George vanishes to get more drinks and I search for Amy, but in the room full of people it is difficult to spot anyone.

  6

  Around midnight, I have drunk almost a whole bottle of wine and had a few sour apple shots. A thick cloud of smoke fills the room but I am in a great mood. George disappears again, but I don't care, as I had few Americans students with me topping up my drink now and again. I am feeling dizzy and unstable, but I am having an amazing time, despite losing my informal boyfriend. I am not sure how long I have been dancing, but George seems to forget about his romantic statement because he is still nowhere to be seen. I sit down on the sofa, trying to sustain my good mood; I sway as sickness hits me. The excitement dies down and I need to find the bathroom. The music is buzzing in my ears but most people are lying on the floor looking worn out, drunk. I close my eyes, trying to gather my thoughts, when suddenly I hear a scream. A young black girl walks into the room, shouting:

  ‘Someone’s knocked out!’

  A lot of people get up and storm towards the kitchen; I follow the crowd pushing the people gathering around the kitchen. It’s a small kitchen now there is around twenty people all squished together.

  ‘On the patio, she is lying there,’ someone is saying.

  ‘Is she dead?’

  ‘What happened?’ I ask as I push past everyone, through the kitchen and walk into the s
mall garden.

  My mind goes blank when I notice Amy, who is lying on the ground. She is unconscious, it looks that she hurt her head because there is a large on her bruise on her forehead, she is bleeding. Next to her, there is a pale student, who looks terrified, pale glancing at crowd.

  ‘What happened?’ I shout, touching Amy. She has a pulse. ‘What the hell happened?’

  The student looks at me with fear in his eyes and makes an awful sound, which I don't understand.

  ‘Can someone call an ambulance?!’ I shout. Someone walks off to find the phone. Everyone else is staring at me in silence, whispering something one to another.