by Sean Cullen
That’s what they used to be like. Now their relationship was strained. Brendan no longer had to wear braces or glasses, and his acne was largely gone.23 He was no longer clumsy, thanks to heightened Faerie awareness of the world around him. And along with the physical changes had come a change in their relationship. Brendan had to maintain a safe distance from his friends in order to keep his secret. Having a secret was lonely, and Brendan’s loneliness was even deeper because they had shared an adventure that Harold and Dmitri could no longer recall. Dmitri and especially Harold were wary of him in a way they’d never been before. Brendan had no idea what to do to alleviate the problem. He hoped their friendship would survive the strain.
Brendan felt himself sinking into self-pity. To distract himself, he looked around the café. Though he’d had weeks to get used to the idea, he was still shocked at how the Faerie world existed in the cracks of the Human world. The café they sat in was a good example. Before his awakening to his Faerie side, he’d walked by this corner many times. Where Roncesvalles split with Dundas Street West stood a bank building that was now occupied by a coffee chain. Brendan had shared a hot chocolate with his father a couple of months ago and never suspected that a café catering to Fair Folk existed on the same spot.
Kim had arrived at the park in good humour to find Greenleaf trapped in his wooden prison. After a few minutes spent savouring his predicament, she’d made the roots of the tree narrow slightly so that Greenleaf could wriggle out. Mission accomplished, the three of them had walked over to the café for a hot drink. But instead of stopping at the coffee bar, Kim and Greenleaf continued through to the hallway that led to the washrooms. Brendan was puzzled.
“Aren’t we going to have a drink?” Brendan asked.
“Yeah,” Kim said. She jerked a thumb at the ceiling. “Upstairs.”
“Upstairs?” Brendan hadn’t noticed any upper floor. He followed Greenleaf and Kim into the hallway. Brendan expected his friends to go to one of the restroom doors or the employees’ entrance. Instead, they walked directly into a blank wall between some stacked boxes of paper cups and vanished through the solid surface. Brendan stopped short.
“Hey!” The wall looked completely solid to him.
A young woman in a green apron came out of a door marked EMPLOYEES ONLY and found Brendan staring at the wall. “You looking for something?”
“Uh,” Brendan stammered. “I, uh . ” How could he explain? My friends just disappeared through a wall.
Suddenly Kim’s head popped out of the solid surface. Waves spread out from her like ripples in a pool. “You coming?” Seeing the young woman, Kim smiled. “Hey, Cassie. What’s up?”
“Not much,” Cassie replied. She smiled at Brendan. “You must be Brendan.”
“Yeah.” He nodded, still a little confused. “You’re … one of us?”
Cassie winked and grinned. For an instant, Brendan glimpsed her true appearance, her dark hair sparkling with silver streaks and her golden eyes. The moment passed and Cassie returned to her glamour as a mousy-brown-haired Human woman. “First time at the Pot?”
“I guess so,” Brendan answered.
“Have the hot chocolate,” Cassie suggested. “And good luck with the Proving Challenges. I’m sure you’ll be awesome!”
Cassie turned before Brendan could answer and went back through the employees’ entrance. Brendan stood looking at the door. “Proving Challenges?” Brendan didn’t like the sound of that. “What’s she talking about? Proving what?”
Kim ignored his question. Grabbing his elbow, she pulled him through the wall.
He found himself at the bottom of a stairwell. Golden light shone down from above as he mounted the stairs. Lively conversation, laughter, and the hissing squeak of a milk steamer greeted his ears as he rose into a warm, airy room.
Brendan stood at the top of the stairs and looked around. Tall windows lined the walls, looking out over the street. Rain pattered on the skylights above, mixing with the mutter of conversation to create a pleasant buzz. Small, round tables were filled with Faerie patrons of every description. Here and there, Lesser Faeries flitted in the air, some delivering drinks or pastries, others merely visiting with friends. Behind the counter, its wood polished to a golden lustre, a male and a female Faerie worked swiftly, steaming milk, drawing espresso, plating delicious-looking cakes and pastries.
“Brendan!”
Kim and Greenleaf had found a table by the window and were waving him over. He wended his way through the small forest of tables. He was so distracted, gawking around the room, that he bumped into an old man.
“Excuse me,” the old man said. For an instant, Brendan’s eyes were gripped in the bluest, most intense gaze he’d ever encountered. The old man smiled.
“Forgive me, lad. I’m awfully clumsy.”
“No problem,” Brendan mumbled. He was about to apologize himself, but the man moved on. Brendan turned and watched him go to the stairs and disappear. He was struck by the sudden realization that he’d never seen an old Faerie before. He was about to go after the old man when Kim called again.
“Brendan? Come on!”
Brendan shook his head and went to the table.
“What’s the matter?” Greenleaf asked.
“Nothing.” Brendan shrugged. He was about to tell them about the old man, but something made him reluctant to mention him. He sat down, his mind’s eye still full of that blue stare that seemed to come from a million miles inside the old man’s head.
“Hey!” BLT’s head popped out of his breast pocket. She had taken shelter from the rain on the walk over and now looked about eagerly. “The Hot Pot? They have the best pastries here.” The Diminutive Faerie began to climb out of her perch.
“No way!” Brendan said. “You aren’t allowed any sugar.”
“Come on,” BLT pleaded. “Just a little bit. I need a pick-me-up.”
“Uh-uh! It’s for your own good. We’ll see if they have any fruit.”
BLT mimed barfing and dropped onto the tabletop. She began hunting for stray crumbs or grains of sugar.
Kim stood up. “What’ll ya have? My treat.”
“Café au lait,” Greenleaf said.
“Uh … ” Brendan shrugged. “Hot chocolate, I guess.”
“With plenty of whipped cream,” BLT chimed in.
Kim nodded and went to the counter to order.
“Sorry, Greenleaf,” Brendan said for the fortieth time since the incident at the park. “I didn’t mean to cause you any trouble. I guess I didn’t really have control.”
Greenleaf waved away Brendan’s apology with an elegant hand as he removed his gloves. “Think nothing of it. I was trying to provoke a reaction from you and I did. You acted instinctively. I want you to remember how you felt in that moment because that is the place inside you that you need to tap into when using your new abilities.”
“Yeah, right!” Brendan snorted. “I don’t want trees crushing people all the time.” Besides, I don’t want to be angry or afraid all the time.
“Don’t worry. Control comes with practice. I doubt that trees will attack very often.” Greenleaf laughed. “Seriously, though, I want you to try to access that place when you’re not in a stressful situation. You didn’t hurt me, but when your power comes from a place of strong emotion, you tend to lose control.”
Kim returned to the table and sat down. “Drinks will be here in a minute.” She smiled sweetly at Greenleaf. “You’re lucky I could bail you out.” Kim’s sardonic comment broke into Brendan’s reverie. She grinned and winked at Brendan. “I may not be there next time you get into trouble.”
“I’m eternally grateful, Ki-Mata. You, however, took your sweet time.” Greenleaf sniffed and plucked a dead leaf from his rumpled jacket, crinkling his nose. “This will never do.” He ran a hand over his jacket and the wrinkles disappeared completely, as though his palm were a steam iron.
“Please forgive me.” Kim grinned. “I got here as quickly as I could.” Sh
e started to giggle. “I’m just glad I got to witness the great Greenleaf in such a compromising position.”
“Very amusing it was, I’m sure.”
“Oh, it was. It truly was.”
“I’m so glad. However, I believe there is another aspect of this incident that is far more intriguing. Our plan to push Brendan out of his comfort zone has yielded some interesting results, more interesting than we could have imagined. It would seem that our Brendan has another Talent.”
“Yeah.” Kim raised an eyebrow. “Looks like you’ve got the same gift as me. Welcome to the Green Art Club, Brendan!” She punched him in the arm.
“Ow,” Brendan grunted. “That hurt.” Kim may have looked thin, but her willowy frame was strong as steel.
“Sorry.” Kim laughed. “You’re such a little girl!” Brendan immediately tried to return the punch but Kim swivelled her shoulders, making him swing wide. His arm followed through and swept BLT from the table.
“Waaaaa!” the tiny Faerie cried as she tumbled backwards, flapping her wings furiously. Titi sat primly on Greenleaf’s shoulder, casting her eyes heavenward as she took in BLT’s antics.
“If I may interrupt your playtime, children,” Greenleaf said, shaking his head, “I don’t think what Brendan has manifested is the Green Art. From what he described feeling, I believe we may be seeing a different kind of Art altogether.”
“What do you mean?” Kim’s face became serious. She swung her brown eyes onto Brendan and looked at him with interest.
“Drinks coming through! Hot stuff!” a squeaky voice cried, breaking into the conversation. A fluttering gang of Lesser Faeries struggled to keep a tray of foamy beverages aloft and upright. Kim quickly reached up and grabbed the tray just as the tiny waiters were about to lose their grip. She lowered the tray to the tabletop, depositing the drinks in front of her friends. The Faeries waited for the empty tray and then streaked off across the room, back to the counter.
“Well?” Kim asked, sitting down and turning her attention to Brendan once again.
“Tell her what you told me, Brendan.”
“Yes! But first,” Kim said, smiling, “try the hot chocolate.”
Brendan took a sip to give himself a moment to collect his thoughts. He’d had hot chocolate before, but this was something else. Rich, creamy chocolate flooded his mouth, filling him with warmth, sending a rush of pleasure exploding through him and tingling down his throat. An instant later, his mind was filled with the most wonderful, comfortable contentment. His eyes went wide. The chocolate was satisfying not just to his taste buds but to his mood as well. He felt safe, happy, and secure. A gentle smile spread across his face.
“It’s awesome, eh?” Kim smiled back. “No one does hot drinks like the Hot Pot.”
“Can we get back to the subject at hand?” Greenleaf suggested. “Tell Kim what you experienced, Brendan.”
Brendan tried to settle his thoughts, feeling tempted to take another sip but resisting. Finally, he said, “I dunno. It’s hard to put into words. I was kind of desperate. I thought Greenleaf was Orcadia and I was gonna get fried, so I reached out with my mind for help. There weren’t any animals or birds close, none that I thought were big enough to help.” He paused, fidgeting with his spoon. He remembered the weight of the tree’s slumbering thoughts. “I tried harder. I reached out and sensed a mind, but it was slow and heavy like a sleeping … elephant or something.” He looked up and found Kim’s attention riveted on him.
“And then what?” she demanded. She was leaning forward, her tea forgotten.
“Well … ” Brendan shrugged. “I kind of … yelled at it with my mind. I woke it up and asked it to help me. That’s when that crazy tree grabbed Greenleaf. You know the rest.”24
Kim’s head snapped toward Greenleaf. “I thought he made the roots grow around you. That is possible with the Green Art.”
“No,” Greenleaf said. “He didn’t cause any new growth. I believe he spoke to the tree itself.”
“But … ” Kim was flabbergasted. “That’s impossible!”
“I saw him do it,” Greenleaf insisted. “Furthermore, I don’t believe he merely spoke to the tree. I believe he Compelled the tree to protect him.”
Kim stared, her mouth open in surprise.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Brendan interjected. “What’s the big deal? So I talked to a tree. So what? I talk to birds and bugs and stuff. What’s the difference?”
Kim leaned back in her chair and shook her head. “There’s a big difference. A huge difference.” She sighed, frowned, and looked around the room. At last, she grinned and reached up to unhook a hanging ivy plant from its place above the table. Setting it on the tabletop, she lovingly ran her fingers through the trailing leaves. “The Green Art. An adept can use it to influence plants. That means I can change growing things. I can make them grow.” She laid a hand on the handle of her field hockey stick while closing her eyes. As Brendan watched, the ivy began to sprout and grow. Tendrils of vine wrapped themselves around her fingers. It was like watching the time-lapse films of growing plants they showed on the science channel. New stems unfurled from the pot. The stems sprouted new leaves, and within a few seconds, Kim’s hand was completely covered by a drapery of new growth. “I can make them die back.” The leaves began to curl and shrink. The stems shortened and disappeared. The plant withdrew into itself until only a single branch sprouted from the top of the pot, drooping forlornly into space with a scraggle of yellowed leaves. “That’s about as far as it goes. I can make plants grow, cultivate them, and even heal them. That’s what the Green Art is in a nutshell.”
“So?” Brendan was still confused. “What’s the point? That’s what I did, isn’t it?”
“Not at all,” Kim said emphatically. “You talked to the tree! You just don’t understand the significance of what you’ve done.”
Brendan didn’t know how to react. He hadn’t thought about what he was doing at the time—he’d just done it. Ever since he’d first learned of his true identity, he’d been experiencing similar things. He heard the voice of the wind, and sometimes plants and trees, and there had been the weird incident with the Snoring Rock, too.25 He was about to open his mouth to tell them about how the rock had spoken to him, but something made him keep quiet. They were already freaking out about the tree: he didn’t need any more grief at the moment.
“So, I don’t understand,” Brendan grumbled. “What’s new? I’m in a state of almost permanent confusion.”
“You don’t get what we’re saying,” Kim insisted heatedly.
Greenleaf laid a calming hand on Kim’s arm. “How could he? He hardly knows what he’s doing. He hasn’t had the benefit of growing up with his powers the way we all have.” Greenleaf turned his attention to Brendan. “Brendan, a gift like yours is vanishingly rare. I’m not sure if anyone has ever had the ability to speak directly to trees. Not since the old times. Perhaps Pûkh … or the Old Man.”
Brendan sat up. “Who? And Who?”
Greenleaf frowned, a cloud crossing his features. “Pûkh is one of the Ancient Faeries, born before the Pact was struck, and a leader of the Dark Ones who fought to enslave the Humans. He was given the choice of imprisonment or surrender. He chose surrender and founded a realm he called Tír na nÓg, the Everlasting Lands. He lives there with other Fair Folk who dislike living among Humans.”
“And the Old Man?” Brendan prompted. His mind went back to the old Faerie he’d seen just a moment ago.
“Let’s not dwell on the past. Suffice it to say that according to legend, the True Ancients had the gift. They were in tune with the universe in a way we aren’t today. Much has been lost. You appear to have a sensitivity. Nowadays, the trees have retreated so far into themselves that they have become impossible to rouse. Today, you seem to have reached in and woken that tree up.”
Brendan groaned. “Oh great! Now I’ve done something else that makes me weird. Y’know, I thought I was a misfit in the Human world. Here’s an
other excuse for me to stick out like a sore thumb in the Faerie world, too. Will I ever get a break?”
“Stop feeling sorry for yourself, can you?” Kim said, shaking her head.
Greenleaf chuckled. “Believe me, every Faerie would give anything to have your problems. Seriously, you have discovered an amazing new gift. You mustn’t feel that it’s a bad thing. Unfortunately, we will have to work much harder if we hope to have you ready in time.”
Brendan stopped in the middle of spooning whipped cream out of his mug. “In time for what?”
Kim and Greenleaf exchanged a glance. Kim shrugged. “I guess you’ll find out soon enough. We wanted you to concentrate on your training and not worry about anything else, but you might as well know: a Gathering of the Clans has been called.”
“A gathering?” Brendan frowned. “What does that mean?”
“The People of the Moon are divided into Clans, descended from the first great tribes of the Fair Folk. Every few decades, a Gathering is called. Faeries come from all over the world to tell stories, share news, and compete in Contests of the Arts.”
“Like the Highland Games?” Brendan asked. “You throw logs and dance over swords and stuff?” Brendan had gone to the Highland Games in Fergus, Ontario, when he was a child. He remembered a lot of men in skirts, some of them throwing logs.
“A bit like that,” Kim agreed, then shook her head. “And nothing like that. Some of the most brilliant Artificers come. The Artisans’ Fair is pretty incredible. But there’s one major thing you need to worry about … ”
“I knew this couldn’t be all good,” Brendan said glumly.
“There’s been a lot of debate about you in the Faerie world,” Kim explained. “You’ve been quite a hot topic.”
“Oh.” Brendan brightened. “That doesn’t sound so bad. It’s nice to be popular.”
“I didn’t say popular. I said that Faeries were talking about you a lot. There’s some debate among our people about whether your initiation was valid.”
