Crystal Thief (1)
Steve Elliott
Copyright Steve Elliott 2012.
All rights reserved
This story is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Chapter 1.
Let me make one thing perfectly clear before we even start. I am not, nor have I ever been: crazy, loopy, loony, mad, deranged, deluded, insane, weird (well, maybe just a little), nuts, a crackpot, barmy, round-the-bend, daft, idiotic or dippy. Okay, I am a bit eccentric, I’ll grant you that. I don’t like to socialise or go to parties. I prefer to be by myself and do my own thing. I don’t have a girlfriend (or a boyfriend either, in case you’re wondering), and I don’t make friends easily. So, all in all, I suppose that makes me a somewhat unusual specimen. But definitely not mad. My thinking processes are logical and ordered. I don’t see pink elephants running down the street, for example. In fact, I’m quite sceptical about anything too far out of the ordinary. I don’t drink or do drugs, so what I’m about to tell you shouldn’t be dismissed as fantasy. It really did happen to me.
I happened to be out strolling one night. The air was bracing and I’d been feeling restless, so I had ventured outside – something I didn’t do very often, preferring to stay indoors where I felt safe from the big, bad world – but I was enjoying myself for once. I’d forgotten how calm and tranquil Nature could be. Everything seemed quiet and serene, which is just the way I liked it. There was no one around, and even the local noisy cadre of dogs appeared to be sleeping. I should come out at this time more often, I thought. I wandered further along the road, and then diverged a little way into the local park. It wasn’t much of a park, mind you, but it boasted some straggly trees and a few anaemic-looking bushes. It also displayed myriad collections of empty soft drink cans, food wrappers and cigarette butts too, but that was average for our neighbourhood. What caught my attention, however, was the wreckage of what appeared, from all outward appearances, to be a flying saucer.
Okay, maybe it wasn’t a real flying saucer – for one thing it was tiny, no bigger than a large dinner plate; and secondly, I don’t believe in flying saucers. Little green men from Mars? Come on, give me a break! But it definitely wasn’t an item you’d see every day . A child’s toy perhaps? They’re making them more and more sophisticated these days, you know. I edged closer and saw the strangest item of them all – a fairy! Okay, maybe technically not a fairy – I don’t believe in those either – but something in that vein. It sprawled on the ground, some distance from the twisted metal vehicle, having been thrown from the crashed ‘saucer’, by my guess. Without thinking, because the whole episode hadn’t fully registered thus far, and my incredulity gland hadn’t yet kicked in, I went over to the diminutive figure and crouched down beside it. I shouldn’t really be saying ‘it’ at this stage, because the ‘fairy’ was emphatically female. I knew this because she had dressed herself rather immodesty, and her feminine physical characteristics were prominently on display. As previously stated, she was small, about the size of my open hand, and she had wings – lovely butterfly wings. She looked so small and fragile that I didn’t dare touch her, for fear of causing further injury. Her coal-dark hair tangled and twisted around her face, but enough remained exposed for me to see that she looked rather pretty. For a so-called fairy, I mean. Her face was heart-shaped with enormous, slightly slanted eyes. And I noticed that her ears were definitely pointed – rather Spock-like, in the true elf/fairy tradition. I wondered briefly if all those drawings of fairies you find in children’s books were based on actual sightings like this one.
By this time, the logical section of my brain began to make itself felt and demanded to know what was going on.
- This is impossible. You must be dreaming.
‘I know what I’m seeing,’ I replied. ‘Maybe she’s a new species, or something.’
- Ridiculous! She’s an illusion. Get a grip on yourself, man! There are no such things as fairies.
‘Then exactly what am I seeing? She’s tiny. She has wings and pointed ears …. Suggest something, then.’
- Well, she’s …… um, she’s a hallucination! Yeah, that’s what she is. I knew that pizza you had for dinner smelt funny.
‘Please, is that the best you can do?’
- For the moment, yes. I’ll think of a better explanation later on.
‘Come back to me when you’ve something worthwhile to say. Do you think I want to believe this?’
- Yeah, well …… go jump in the lake!
‘What a logically reasoned argument.’
- Rats to you!
While I argued with myself, the little figure on the ground stirred, groaned and opened her eyes. When I swam into focus, she gasped in fright and tried to edge backwards in panic.
“Hey, I won’t hurt you,” I pleaded, holding up my hands pacifically. I belatedly realised what a giant I must have looked to someone like her, so I awkwardly manoeuvred a crouched step backwards. This action seemed to reassure her, because she stopped trying to escape and peered up at me. I seated myself, and stared down at her. She mimicked my stare and this continued, wordlessly, for a few minutes. Finally, I decided to break the silence.
“Hello,” I began. “Are you injured? Can I help in any way?”
“Don’t shout!” I heard her say, as she clasped her hands over her ears.
“Sorry,” I whispered, wondering how I had even managed to hear her voice. I mean, she was so little! Logically speaking, I shouldn’t have heard her at all.
As if to answer my unspoken question, she explained. “I’m putting my words directly into your mind. You only think I’m talking. Who are you?”
“My name is Stephen,” I replied. “What’s your name? Is it Tinkerbell?”
Immediately, her little face creased into a hideous scowl. “Tinkerbell!” she snorted in an outraged fashion. “Tinkerbell? As if I’d be in any way related to that mewling bimbo! That pansy-footed, air-headed, sooky disgrace to all living creatures! I should beat you to a pulp for even suggesting such thing! Tinkerbell, bah!”
Diplomatically hiding a smile, I asked, “Okay then, what is your name?”
“My name,” she said, drawing herself up proudly, “is Arugohumna. It means ‘She-who-fights-with-thorns’. It’s a very traditional name and one that I wear with honor.”
“I can see that,” I remarked. “May I ask what you’re doing here? And exactly what are you anyway? Are you some sort of a fairy?”
Once again, I found myself subjected to an affronted scowl. “I’m not a fairy!” she insisted. “Get that stupid idea out of your head right now. Fairies are ridiculous, twinkly flower-puffs. They’re inventions of humans with overactive and excessive romantic tendencies. Fairies, indeed! We call ourselves the ‘One’, and that’s all you have to know.” She gestured to a miniature sword strapped to her side. “We’re a warrior race and have earned our place in this world by force of arms. We don’t suffer fools gladly, which brings me back to you. What are you doing here?”
I shrugged. “I was simply going for a walk,” I said, ignoring her implied insult.
“Not so loud!” Arugohumna begged.
“I’m sorry,” I apologised. “I keep forgetting how tiny you are.”
Arugohumna immediately bristled at my words. “Are you saying I’m small?” she angrily demanded, clutching at her sword.
“Well, yes,” I replied, spreading my hands. “Just look at you! Surely you’ll have to admit it.” I looked at her offended face and added, “Perhaps ‘petite’ may be more appropriate.”
“Very well, then,” she sniffed, mollified. “I accept
your apology.”
“Is that your machine?” I asked, pointing at the wreckage.
“Yes,” she sighed sorrowfully. “It’s something new and I was taking it out for a test run.” She gave a rueful shrug. “I discovered there were a few small technical details that need to be ironed out. Damn nuisance, really. It’ll take me all night to get home.”
“You can fly, surely,” I pointed out, “or are your wings just for ornamentation? Do you live far away?”
“Of course I can fly,” she snapped, “but I think I damaged something during the crash so I’ll have to walk.”
“Listen,” I told her, “you don’t have to do that. I can carry you, if you like.”
“Carry me?” she squeaked, furiously. “What do you take me for? I’m not helpless! I’m not some useless, pet Tinkerbell clone! I can walk!”
“Whoa!” I exclaimed, leaning backwards a trifle. “Man, you’re so touchy! For someone so small you certainly have a giant ego.”
“There you go with the ‘small’ insults again,” she protested, half-drawing her sword threateningly.
“Take it easy,” I cautioned, drawing away even further. “I didn’t mean anything by it. If you don’t want my help, you have only to say.”
“Well,” she reluctantly admitted, “it is a long way and I’m not feeling the best, so I guess I could let you carry me. For part of the way, anyway.”
“You’re going to ‘let’ me carry you?” I asked, sarcastically.
“That’s what I said,” she reiterated in an irritated tone of voice. “You can carry the flying machine as well.”
“You’re all charm,” I muttered, leaning over and picking up the wreckage. It was surprisingly heavy. “How would your Highness prefer to be carried?”
“If you lift me up,” she answered, “I can ride on your shoulder.” She hesitated, and then lowered her eyes. “I should be thanking you for this, I suppose,” she murmured. “I’m not normally this impolite, but I’ve had a rather nasty night so far. I appreciate your help and I especially appreciate you not trying to imprison me in a bottle. That’s the first thing a lot of you humans would do.”
“And how do you know that I’m not one of the bottlers?” I asked, curiously.
“It’s something we can tell,” she smugly replied. “It’s one of our gifts. How do you think we’ve survived this long without detection? We can instantly tell a human’s personality.”
“And what can you tell about me?” I wanted to know.
“Well, for one thing,” she began, “you’re idealistic, inhibited and shy, and you wouldn’t hurt anyone, or anything, even if your life depended on it, so I know I’ll be safe. You couldn’t harm me if you tried.”
“Very astute, Doctor Freud,” I grumbled, lowering my hand to the ground so she could step aboard. She smirked at me as I raised the hand to my shoulder. I felt her tiny fingers gripping my ear as she positioned herself. “Which direction?” I asked, turning my head slightly towards her.
“Through the park,” she replied, “and across the next field. I’ll direct you from there. And don’t bounce around too much,” she warned.
“I’ll try not to,” I informed her, as I set out on the strangest journey of my life.
Chapter 2
It took me about an hour to reach the ‘One’ country, not that I was permitted to enter it or anything.
“This is it,” Arugohumna told me. “Let me down.”
I obliged and, when she was on the ground, she looked up at me with grudging gratitude.
“Well, thanks for the lift,” she said. “You can leave the machine here. The technicians will pick it up later.”
“So, whereabouts do you live?” I asked curiously, looking around.
“Oh, not here,” she answered casually, flipping her hand in negation. “It’s close by, but you humans aren’t allowed anywhere near the place, for obvious reasons. We don’t want your big, clumsy feet trampling over everything. Besides, it’s best for us to stay hidden. You humans are so nosy. Goodbye.” With that, she abruptly dived into a nearby bush and disappeared. I shook my head, wonderingly. Had I dreamed it all? No, because the wrecked machine still lay on the ground by my foot. Arugohumna was certainly a cute little thing, but so annoying! And not very polite either. Ah well, at least I’d managed to have an interesting adventure and had something to tell my grandchildren about. Not that I’m anywhere near the stage of having grandchildren, I thought morosely. I just didn’t seem to be able to relate to women, and I wasn’t sure that I even wanted to anymore. I was far too set in my ways and had probably been by myself too long. The thought of spending the rest of my life with another person presented innumerable difficulties. So many compromises to be made. Such a radical change of lifestyle. I wasn’t at all sure I could do any of that.
I made my way back to my flat and, as I prepared for bed, it suddenly occurred to me what a marvellous opportunity I had wasted. Questions about Arugohumna and her people that I could have asked flooded into my mind. Damn! Why couldn’t I have thought of those questions at the time? I’d found a whole new species and knew practically nothing about them. I could have asked about how they lived, where they’d come from and discovered their entire history. Instead, all I’d done on our journey was to defend the human race against Arugohumna’s scornful insults. I smiled ruefully to myself. That girl! She really was so prickly! I wondered if she was ‘human’, or at least, related to humans. Externally, she certainly appeared to be a miniature human being. She displayed the requisite two legs and two arms with five fingers on each hand. Her figure had been demonstratively feminine, with her …….. her, um, upper attributes obvious to any wandering eye. It seemed somewhat rude to think of her as a sexual object, and my mind immediately veered away from that line of thought. Shame about the name though. I’d never be able to pronounce it.
During sleep that night I dreamed of miniature people, fluttering around and yelling at me. Not surprising, really. I woke up with a fuzzy brain and incoherent thoughts. By morning’s light, I began to have serious doubts about my previous night’s adventure. Had it been one monstrous dream after all? No, surely not. But, on the other hand, it seemed too unbelievable to be real. Weighing up all the pros and cons, I decided that it had really happened. After all, I didn’t believe I possessed enough imagination to be able to invent such a story. Needless to say, I went for a walk that afternoon and tried to retrace my footsteps. I ended up in the place where I thought I had left Arugohumna, but could find no evidence of my adventure. The wrecked machine had vanished and there wasn’t a single trace of anything out of the ordinary. It was about what I had expected, but I felt a little disappointed all the same. I tramped my way back home and put the whole experience down to the once-in-a-lifetime happening that everyone experiences at some stage. I imagined that, as the years went by, the whole episode would drift more and more into a dream belief.
That last statement probably would have been true, except that two weeks later, as I slept, I was awakened by a tickling sensation on my ear. Drowsily, I brushed at the irritation and, for my pains, received a sharp stab of pain to one of my fingers. Cursing, I sat up and looked at my hand. The tip of my index finger bled slightly and I put it in my mouth, at the same time looking around for what had caused the injury. Imagine my surprise when there, standing defiantly on my pillow, stood Arugohumna. She had her sword in hand and waved it belligerently at me.
“Don’t do that again!” she yelled. “You nearly hit me!”
I stared at her, goggle-eyed. “What the devil are you doing?” I angrily enquired.
“Stop shouting!” she screamed, dropping her sword and covering her ears.
“Sorry,” I muttered. “I keep forgetting.”
“It’s only what I expected,” she growled, “from a human.”
“What do you want?” I sighed. “What’s so important that you break into my bedroom ……… ” I glanced at the bedside clock, “ ….. at two o’clock in the morni
ng and attack me with a sword?”
“It wasn’t my idea,” she sulkily replied. “The Council of Elders ordered me to come here because I’m the only one who has had any recent dealings with you humans. They thought I might be able to persuade you to do something for us, after you had, you know, …….. sort of, helped me before.”
“You make it sound as if I hadn’t done it on purpose,” I complained. “What do they want me to do? I’m not agreeing to do anything at this stage, you understand,” I carefully added.
“You’re not much of a host,” Arugohumna criticised. “I’ve come a long way to be here, you know. Do you have any honey? I like honey.”
“Way to avoid the subject,” I told her, reluctantly getting out of bed. “Very well, come into the kitchen. As it so happens, I do have some honey.”
Arugohumna spread her wings and fluttered up gracefully in an ascending spiral. Obviously then, her wings had recovered. She followed me at head height into the kitchen and alighted on the dining room table. I rummaged in the kitchen cabinet for the honey and brought it to the table. “Would you like it on some bread or something?” I asked.
“Of course I do,” she replied, testily. “I’m not a barbarian. On a cracker would be fine.”
“As your Majesty commands,” I muttered. She scowled at me but made no further comment. I returned to the cupboard and found the crackers. I broke one in half, put it on a plate, then applied a layer of honey with a knife and presented it to her. She eyed it greedily and immediately snatched it from the plate. I sat down and watched her in amazement. I’d never seen anyone enjoy food so much. She really did like honey. She ate daintily, but extremely thoroughly.
“Aahh,” she exclaimed, in a satisfied tone when she had finished, “that was lovely. Honey is one of my favorite foods of all time.”
“I kind of gathered that,” I commented. “Do you want some more?”
“I’m not a pig!” she instantly flared. “Are you saying I’m fat?”
“For heaven sake, Augo ….. Arruhr …… .Arugghh ….. It’s no good,” I exclaimed, throwing up my hands in defeat. “I’m going to have to call you something else. I can’t get my tongue around your name.” I thought for a few moments. “How about ‘Prickle Bush’?”
Crystal Thief (1) (The Underground Kingdom) Page 1
