Blood of the Fae

by Tom Mohan

  “I’m not sure. See how their light is kind of purplish-gray?”

  “Yeah.”

  “They’re still partially in the Mist. Like you said the hospital was.”

  “There was nothing partial about Black Annis,” Fallon whispered.

  “We have to get to the City Hall,” Marcas said. “The big problem is we don’t know what else is out there. I’m also wondering why the town is so quiet. With the power out, you’d think people would be trying to find out what’s going on, but the place looks dead.”

  A piercing scream split the silence of the night. Fallon’s heart leapt in her chest. Something about the scream ignited a primal fear in her.

  “What the hell was that?” Fallon could barely get the words out.

  “Nothing good, that’s for sure. It wasn’t human, and it sounded close. We better move. Let’s get to the train tracks and follow them into town.” They scurried through the knee-high grass behind the gas station, dodging between a couple rusted-out cars for cover, and slid down the short embankment to the tracks.

  Fallon checked the tracks in either direction for any sign of movement. The way looked clear. She glanced at the dark sky above, searching for the monster. Again, nothing. The shriek of the unknown beast came again, louder this time. She felt an almost overwhelming urge to run.

  “I think it’s a trap,” Marcas whispered over her shoulder. “It knows we’re here. You feel the fear and want to run to escape. As soon as you do, it’ll be on you.”

  Fallon gulped. “You’re full of good news tonight, aren’t you?” She was wishing she had paid more attention to the stories of the fae folk. How was she to know everything would fall apart during her lifetime? It wasn’t like there was any sort of precedent for any of this.

  Marcas started up the tracks, keeping to the left edge where the embankment hid them from the town. Twice, rabbits hopped from the grass to cross the tracks in front of them, nearly scaring Fallon out of her mind. She thought she finally had herself under control when a pixie darted right up in her face.

  She stumbled back, but it remained inches from her nose. It didn’t look like she’d thought it would. She’d always thought of pixies as cute little Tinkerbell-like creatures. This thing was not Tinkerbell.

  It was about the size of her hand and its skin was a sickly gray, moldy looking in places. It wore rags—basically a long shirt that hung to mid-thigh and belted at the waist with a piece of string—and its head was completely bald. Fallon had no idea if it was male or female. It held a tiny knife in one hand and a lamp in the other. It pointed the knife in the direction away from town, as if it wanted her to go that way.

  Fallon swatted at it, but it effortlessly dodged her hand and hovered in front of her.

  “Careful, Fallon. Don’t make it mad, but don’t trust it, either.” The pixie glared at him before turning its attention back to Fallon.

  “What’s it want?” She took a step backward, but it moved along with her.

  “It wants you to follow it. That’s never a good idea with pixies.”

  “Can’t you do something to make it leave me alone? You’re the one who hung out at the edge of the Mist.”

  “My power was as one of the Twins. Without Conall, I can’t do anything.”

  “What would you do if Conall were here?” The pixie’s pointing motions became more insistent. Out of the corner of her eye, Fallon saw more lights approaching. These did not have the purplish hue of the first but were brighter white like the one in front of her. These were actually here.

  “We didn’t encounter the fae quite this close. The barrier was still between us, just very thin.”

  “But they could have hurt you, right? Like they did Conall when he went in by himself.” She hated mentioning that, but she had to get Marcas thinking. He and Conall had had the ability to be closer to the fae in physical form than any other humans. There had to be something he could do.

  “Give me your hand,” Marcas said.

  Fallon reached out toward him without taking her eyes off the pixie. Its face was contorted in anger now, and she had the feeling it was about to stick its knife up her nose. Marcas took her hand. Almost immediately, the pixie backed off a few inches.

  “What’s happening?” A tingling sensation ran from her hand up her arm and through her body. She could sense something radiate out of her toward the pixie.

  “It isn’t as strong with you, but something’s there. Conall and I didn’t have to touch. Being in close proximity to one another was enough to keep us safe.” The pixie darted around in front of her, its face a picture of murderous rage.

  “We’ve made it mad.”

  “Not a good thing.”

  “Will this be enough to keep us safe like it did you and Conall?”

  “I don’t know. It’s weak, but that might be good. We had to be careful how we used our power while in the forest. It did protect us from the influence of the fae, but it also attracted them. Something about our power calls to them, much like theirs calls to those who enter the forest.” As if in response to his words, the screaming thing let out another shriek. Fallon’s legs went weak as the sound bore into her most instinctive fears.

  The pixies surrounded them now, a few hovering in the air while others walked on the ground.

  The sound of something large moving in the grass caused humans and pixies alike to spin toward it. Fallon felt Marcas’s hand tighten around hers when something leapt from the grass into the middle of the railroad tracks. The pixies scattered, disappearing into the grass as a huge dog padded up to Fallon and Marcas.

  Marcas laughed out loud. “Oh, that’s too perfect.”

  “What?”

  “Pixies hate dogs,” Marcas said.

  “There are dogs in Tír na nÓg?”

  “Dogs aren’t like us or the fae. They wander back and forth between the worlds and don’t seem to think anything of it.”

  “Come here, Max.” Fallon put her hand out toward the massive Rottweiler. She knew this dog. He belonged to Clyde Owens, the reclusive man who made his living fixing people’s lawn mowers and other small engines. He lived near the tracks. Max gave Marcas a low growl but walked right up to Fallon.

  “We need to keep moving,” Marcas said. “Those pixies attracted attention, and who knows what mischief they’re up to now.” Max growled at him again but stayed close to Fallon as she continued to scratch his head. Marcas gave him a wide berth and started walking the tracks again.

  After about another hundred yards, they came to the first road that crossed the tracks. The street lights were out, leaving the road cloaked in darkness, the houses that lined it little more than shadows. They turned up the road, heading into town. The town square where City Hall was located was only about five blocks away, but that seemed a long distance when they didn’t know what lurked in the dark.

  “I’m not sure the fae are all we have to worry about,” Marcas said, as though reading her mind. “I saw quite a few strangers in town today.” His voice was low, but Fallon could hear the strain in it. “They’re coming from everywhere. The pull of Tír na nÓg has never been so strong. Without the Old Ones and Conall, there’s nothing stopping them from coming.”

  A flash of light lit the distant sky. “Lightning?” Fallon said.

  A dull drum of thunder rolled over the town. “Looks like a storm to the south,” Marcas answered.

  “In the direction of the farm.”

  “Yeah, near the farm.”

  “Just a storm. A natural one.”

  “Yeah, just a storm.”

  They continued through the deserted streets. The houses all stood dark and silent. There was power in the air—Fallon could feel it gathered somewhere nearby, waiting to let loose. She reached down and scratched Max’s head, glad that he had decided to join them this night. It took them less than ten minutes to reach the town square.

  Marcas motioned her to stop. “Hear that?”

  Fallon listened. She could hear the bre
eze through the trees in the park in the center of the square. She also heard voices.

  She scanned the darkness ahead but saw no one. They crept up to the corner where they could see the whole square and park. Another flash of lightning appeared in the south, and a few moments later, thunder boomed. Fallon could smell rain in the air though it had not yet reached the town.

  Rough laughter sounded across the park. Marcas pointed, and Fallon saw two pickup trucks with people sitting in the beds. She thought there were three or four of them, men by the sound of their voices, but it was too dark to be sure. Fortunately, they faced away from where Marcas and Fallon now hid.

  City Hall was the first building on their side of the square, so they slipped around the corner and through the door. Fallon held the door open for Max, but he showed no interest in joining them.

  “Kerry?” Marcas called in a loud whisper. “Kerry, you in here?”

  The room they were in was not large. There was a long counter on the left, and a window covered most of the wall on the right. At the end of the room, a door led to the back where there were a few offices and two jail cells.

  Fallon glanced back out the front window at the people across the park but felt safe they could be a bit louder and not be heard. “Kerry?” she said out loud. “Anyone?”

  No response came.

  She glanced at Marcas. “The police car isn’t out front, so whoever’s on night duty these days isn’t here, but Kerry should be around.”

  “I found a flashlight,” Marcas said from behind the counter. “I’m not going to turn it on until we get in back.”

  “Good idea.”

  Marcas and Fallon hurried toward the back of the building. Marcas closed the door behind them and flipped on the flashlight. They were greeted by two closed doors on each side and another at the end. Fallon had been back there enough to know that the two doors on the right were offices, as was the first on the left. The second door on the left was a bathroom, and the one at the end led to the jail cells, which were usually empty. They went door to door, stopping to knock first on each one, but the place appeared deserted.

  Marcas opened the door and shined the light in. The space was small, with room enough for a four-by-six cell on each side with a four-foot gap between. Someone was snoring in the cell to the left. Marcas turned the light in that direction, illuminating the form of the night-dispatch officer asleep on the cot in the cell.

  “Hey Kerry,” Marcas said as he slipped into the cell. “Kerry, wake up.” He shook the man. Kerry stirred and held up a hand to block the light shining in his face.

  “Who the hell? Get that damn light away.”

  “Sorry.” Marcas turned the light.

  “Marcas, that you?” Kerry was still trying to get his bearings. “What the hell are you doing here? You shouldn’t be back here. What’s with the flashlight, anyway?”

  “Power’s out through the whole town. You didn’t know that?”

  “Huh?”

  “You’re the cop on duty and supposed to be paying attention to these things,” Fallon said. Kerry’s attitude bothered her. He had always taken his duties so seriously as to almost be obsessive. Taking a nap while on duty was completely out of character for him.

  Kerry looked up at her. “Hey there, Fallon. Aren’t you looking good tonight?”

  “I snuck out of a hospital and have a lump on my head the size of an ostrich egg and a bloody face. Yeah, I’m a real beauty queen. What’s the matter with you? Have you been drinking?”

  “Oh, yeah, I heard about you being in some kind of accident. The chief wouldn’t tell me much about it, asshole that he is.”

  “What’s going on here, Kerry? What’s with the power?”

  The young cop stood and stretched. “Not a clue.” He let his gaze slide over Fallon. “Looking really good tonight.” He reached a finger toward her cheek. She stepped back, but his hand flashed out and grabbed her by the wrist. “Don’t pull away from me.”

  “What are you doing?” Marcas said, stepping closer. “Let go of her!”

  Without taking his eyes from Fallon, Kerry pulled his gun from the holster and pointed it at Marcas. “One more stupid move, and I put a bullet through your thick skull, Finn.”

  Fallon tensed as Marcas stopped where he was, the flashlight pointed at the gun, Kerry’s finger on the trigger. Still, Kerry’s eyes never left her face.

  “I’ve had my eye on this sister of yours for a long time. You Finns all think you’re better than the rest of us, but you’re not. You ain’t better than me or anyone else.” He was breathing hard, as though fighting to maintain what little control he still had. “Get yourself in that cell,” he said to Marcas, nodding toward the cell he had just stepped out of.

  “You’re crazy if you think I’m going to leave you with my sister.”

  “Then I’ll shoot your dumb ass.”

  Fallon watched in horror as Kerry’s finger tightened on the trigger and the hammer moved away from the firing pin. “Do what he says. Please, Marcas. I don’t want to lose another brother.”

  “I can’t stand by and let him…” He couldn’t finish the sentence.

  “It’ll be all right. Please.”

  “Better listen to her, Finn. I wouldn’t mind shooting you just for the hell of it. Always wondered what it would feel like to kill a man.” He was breathing harder now. Sweat dripped down his face.

  Fallon held her breath as Marcas stepped into the cell and Kerry pushed the door shut. It locked automatically. He shoved Fallon into the other cell and wrapped his arms around her. The gun pressed into her back as he buried his face in her neck. “You sure do smell good.” He half turned toward Marcas. “I’m going to let you watch, Finn. What do you think of that?”

  Marcas banged on the cell bars. “Fallon, get out of there. He won’t hurt you, just get out.”

  Fallon wasn’t so sure of that. She had the feeling Kerry would gladly kill them both when he was done with her. His behavior was so out of character that she couldn’t make any sense of it.

  He shoved her against the bars at one end of the cell, keeping the hand with the gun tight against her back while his other hand pawed at her. His body against hers felt so wrong, so dirty. She was the future matriarch, set aside for her one true mate. Everything in her recoiled at what was happening.

  Fallon closed her eyes and tried to ignore Kerry’s tongue as it slid down her neck. She heard another roll of thunder, closer, she thought. She bit her lip as his hand slid up to cup her breast, squeezing as she pressed her eyes more tightly closed. She thought she heard Marcas say something, but then he went quiet.

  Kerry lunged hard against her and let loose a loud moan before sliding down her body and crashing to the floor. In his place stood Mathair Nidawi, a thick, heavy law volume in her hands.

  “Looks like I got here just in time.” She dropped the book on Kerry’s still form.

  Fallon burst into tears and fell into the woman’s arms.

  The influence of Tír na nÓg is spreading over the land,” Mathair Nidawi said. They had locked the unconscious night dispatcher in the cell and retreated to the front of the building. “Notice how quiet the town is. No power, no cell phone service, no cable television or any other modern comforts, and no one is out trying to find out why.”

  “We wondered the same thing when we came into town,” Marcas said.

  “They are all asleep,” Nidawi continued. “Just as our friend in back was asleep when you found him. Asleep and dreaming their deepest-seated desires.” She stared out the window at the men drinking beer and laughing across the park. “Everyone has thoughts and fantasies that they keep hidden in the deepest depths of their souls. Things they don’t want anyone else to know. Not all are horrible or criminal—many are simple crushes or people they secretly dislike, things like that. Right now, everyone in Halden’s Mill is dreaming of their secret fantasy, dreaming of living it out to the full. These dreams are filling them with longing beyond anything they hav
e ever experienced. In the morning, when they wake, the proverbial shit is going to hit the fan as every one of them goes out to get what they believe is their God-given right.”

  She nodded toward the door to the cells.

  “I have a feeling our young friend back there has had a crush on Fallon for quite some time. In normal times, I doubt he would even have imagined doing what he did tonight, but the dark influence of the fae takes the mind where it would not normally go. It warps good thoughts and turns them evil.”

  Lightning lit the night, a crash of thunder on its heels. “Storm’s a coming,” Nidawi said. “More than one.”

  “I don’t understand,” Fallon said. “Kerry has never been anything but friendly to me. I still can’t believe that was him back there.” She had her arms wrapped tightly around herself, trying to hold together, to keep from flying apart. She did not recognize the world she lived in anymore, did not trust it.

  “People’s dreams are filling them with need and desire. When they wake up, if a man has hated his neighbor, tomorrow he will do something about it. Something terrible. If a woman has dreamt of having wealth enough to buy whatever she wants, tomorrow she may very well march into a bank, kill everyone there, and take the money like it belonged to her all along. People will wake believing with all their hearts that their darkest fantasies are theirs for the taking.”

  Fallon shook harder. What would it be like when the whole town behaved like Kerry had? Get ahold of yourself, Fallon. Just because you’ve never had the abilities the rest of the family does doesn’t mean you get to fall apart when things get tough.

  “What’s with those guys out there?” she asked. “Why aren’t they sleeping like everyone else? For that matter, why aren’t we?”

  “I’ve been wondering the same thing,” Nidawi said. “I snuck in for a listen before finding you two in here. They’re out-of-towners. A lot of them around these days. Most have wandered out to your farm, to the woods. The guys in the park seem more interested in drinking beer than going out to the forest. I have a hunch that the influence of Tír na nÓg has spread wide enough that they don’t have to. It has come here. Without Marcas and Conall out there to stop them getting what they think they want, things are going to get real bad real soon.”