The Prince of Two Tribes

by Sean Cullen

  Indeed, Brendan looked at the moon. The silver orb was small and low on the horizon out over the lake.

  “I am going to tell you a little trick that I used when I was starting out,” Charlie said. “I learned it from the Shaman woman. Shamans are those who can see the secrets of the Faerie world. In every culture they exist: they’re called psychics, seers, and fortune tellers. The Iroquois Shaman used a drum to help her focus her sight. She taught me how to use music to do the same.” Charlie’s eyes were distant as if remembering the smoky interior of the Shaman woman’s longhouse, so long ago. Shaking herself back into the present, she turned her dazzling eyes on Brendan. “When you want to use your powers, don’t think about it. Instead, sing a song inside your head. Think about the words of the song and let your subconscious take care of itself.”

  “A song? Are you kidding me?” Brendan asked skeptically.

  “Ha!” Charlie said suddenly. “The Dawn Flyers are beginning! I’ve heard of this but I’ve never seen it before.” She pointed to the CN Tower above them. Brendan looked up and gasped.

  He’d seen the weird extra bulge above the observation tower many times since gaining his Faerie Sight. Even now, he was amazed at how much of the city was invisible to Humans as they bustled about, completely unaware of the secret Faerie world that existed alongside them. He’d never had time to explore even a hundredth of the new locales open to him. Now he was astonished to see Faeries launching themselves from the tower high above, gliding out into the chilly predawn air.

  One after another, Faeries leapt from the tower and sailed on the thermals toward the open air above the lake. They flew with gliders constructed of some silken material that caught the wind, lofting them like graceful birds in wide arcs here and there as they chased one another. He could hear hoots of laughter as they carved through the gradually lightening sky and down toward the distant mass of Ward’s Island.

  “That’s … ” Brendan couldn’t contain his awe. “That’s just brilliant!”

  “Yes,” Charlie agreed. “Brilliant.”

  As they watched the Dawn Flyers swooping overhead, Brendan wondered what any Humans who happened to look up might see: flocks of birds hanging in the sky? He had no idea and he didn’t care. He was just glad he could see them. They were so beautiful.

  Charlie stood up. “Time to go.”

  “Go?”

  “We have to get you home before your parents wake up and find you gone. What would they think of you running the streets with a strange young girl all night?”

  Brendan’s heart began to pound. She was right. He’d been lost in her story and the glory of the Dawn Flyers. “You’re hardly young!”

  “Man. You know how to charm a lady, Brendan!” She laughed and slid down the side of the dome. “Come on!” she called. Brendan cast one final longing gaze at the Faeries spiralling overhead and slid after her.

  Through the dawn streets they sped, BLT trailing along behind. Through backyards and back alleys, parks and construction sites they wended their way, seeking to avoid contact with people going about their early-morning business. The odd Human they came across never saw them at all but felt a breeze, and those with sharp eyes might have detected a smear of colour in the corner of their eye. In a matter of minutes, they were slowing to a jog in the back alley of Montrose Avenue, coming at last to the backyard of Brendan’s house. The windows were still dark. There was no sign that anyone in his family was up and about.

  “Where are you going to stay tonight?” Brendan whispered.

  “Don’t worry about me.” She smiled. “I can take care of myself!” She spun on her heel and, with a wave, melted into the shadows of the alley.

  He got in the back door with the spare key his mother kept hidden in a flowerpot on the back porch. The house was still as he climbed the stairs, careful to avoid the seventh, creaky one, his mind churning through all that Charlie had said. The girl was annoying in the extreme, and having her around was courting disaster. She could ruin everything. Still, a tiny part of him hoped she would stay around. If what she said was true, no one else in either his Human world or the Faerie world even remotely shared his experience. Except maybe for Finbar, the forlorn Exile who longed to be readmitted to the Faerie fold. But Brendan didn’t feel he had that much in common with the sad old man.

  Another thing nagged at him. For all her high spirits, she seemed to have a darker side. He’d seen it in her eyes when she was sitting at the table with his family. He wanted to ask her more questions about how she’d managed to survive and who the mysterious teacher who had helped her might be.

  He stopped in the upstairs hall, his feet savouring each fibre of the old oriental runner carpet beneath them. The house was silent save for the soft snoring of his father down the hall and the occasional creak of the settling house. He suddenly felt a rush of affection for his family, his home. Poor Charlie. She has never had this feeling.

  He almost felt like crying. He wished he could stay in this moment forever, still aglow from the night run and cocooned in the soft warmth of the house and the darkness. He was full of contentment, his worries at a distance for the time being.

  Desperate to hold on to this feeling, he climbed the stairs to his attic room. Faeries may not need sleep but he didn’t feel like working on his meditation skills after the night he’d had. He was looking forward to closing his eyes while his soul was still aglow and carrying these feelings with him into his dreams.

  He was so intent on getting up the stairs, he didn’t notice that the bathroom door was open a crack and his sister’s blue eye watched him as he disappeared up the stairs into his room.

  34 Silkie as in the Water Folk who are related to Faeries and live in the rivers and lakes of the world. Not silky as in smooth to the touch, although Oona was quite silky to the touch. But if I’d meant that kind of silky I wouldn’t have spelled it Silkie, would I?

  35 Brittany is a region in France where Celtic traditions have held on to this day. They have their own language called Breton and they have lovely crepes. I like the ones with sugar and lemon, but that isn’t important right now.

  36 Dolphins are notorious for their sharp tongues and bad jokes. One dolphin even made it to the finals of Last Comic Standing before having to drop out because his blowhole became chapped.

  37 Hochelaga is indeed the original name for Montreal. It is an Iroquoian word meaning “Beaver Dam” or “Beaver Lake.” When Europeans fi rst arrived in the area, the place was ruled by a race of giant, intelligent beavers. A bitter battle was fought before the French fi nally drove the beavers out. Many a French soldier Was furiously tail-slapped and gnawed on that fateful day.

  38 Not all priests are so nasty, but they are by nature a little suspicious. I once did a card trick at a parish potluck dinner that earned me some fearful glances from Father Garvey.

  THE NEW GIRL

  Monday was never Brendan’s favourite day of the week. This particular Monday was even more of a bummer because of how it started off. His parents trapped him at the breakfast table and grilled him about his new girlfriend. He’d thought he had answered enough questions after he got back from walking Charlie “home,” but his parents were determined to find new ways to torment him.

  “What do her parents do?” Mum asked.

  “I don’t know,” Brendan said.

  “Have you met them yet?”

  “No!”

  “Why not?” his dad wondered. “Are they criminals? Murderers? I know! They’re in the Mafia!”

  “Dad!” Brendan pleaded.

  “Edward, please!” his mother scolded. “We’re just trying to get to know this girl. You hadn’t even mentioned her before, and here she is on our doorstep. What’s with the secrecy?”

  “What’s with it? Listen to yourselves. You’re all over me about it. It’s embarrassing!”

  Dad put on a mockingly tearful face, dabbing his eyes with a napkin. “Our little boy! He’s all growed up, dear!”

  Mum s
lapped him on the arm. “Stop teasing him, Edward. You’re making him uncomfortable.”

  “And what are you doing? It’s like a CIA interrogation! Who are they? Where do they live? What’s their income? Do they have any pets? Communicable diseases? What’s their inoculation history?”

  “I’m not that bad,” Mum protested. “I’m just interested. I’m excited. Brendan’s first girlfriend!”

  Delia snorted. “If it’s so exciting, I guess I’m free to start going on dates?”

  “Sorry.” Dad shook his head. “Not the same thing.”

  “It is too,” Delia protested. “Why is it different?”

  “You’re a girl,” Dad said, picking up his newspaper. “If any boy touches you, I’m calling the police.”

  “It’s so unfair!” Delia shouted. She pushed away from the table and stomped off to the front door. A second later, they heard it slam.

  “That’s not very nice, dear,” Mum scolded.

  “I was joking!” Dad said. “But not really.”

  “Not funny,” Mum insisted, getting up for another cup of coffee.

  Behind her back, Dad mouthed, “Oh yes it is!”

  Brendan stifled a laugh.

  Mum returned to the table. “I thought you were interested in that tomboyish girl with the scooter.”

  “What, KIM? No way,” Brendan said.

  “I think she likes you,” Dad opined.

  “What? How would you know?”

  “Does she like Charlie?”

  “Oh, I don’t think Kim likes anybody.” Brendan was sure Kim and Charlie would hit it off like a baseball bat and a kneecap.

  Brendan was walking along College Street on his way to school when Charlie fell into step beside him.

  “What are you doing?” Brendan demanded.

  “I’m coming to school with you.”

  “No way!”

  “I insist. It’ll be an education, if you’ll pardon the pun.”

  Brendan protested vociferously until they arrived across the street from the school, then finally gave in. There was no way he could stop her from doing what she wanted to. Maybe he could enlist Greenleaf and Kim to help get rid of her. At least he’d managed to convince her to lose Tweezers while she was at Robertson Davies Academy.

  “It’s safer that way,” Brendan insisted. He jerked his head to indicate BLT sitting on his shoulder happily munching on a Cheerio (Honey Nut, one of Brendan’s only concessions to her sweet tooth). “I send BLT off to amuse herself for the day while I’m in school. People wouldn’t take kindly to having a giant fly buzzing around them. And there are no pets allowed.” BLT waved and zipped away toward the park. “And no sweets!” Brendan yelled after the tiny Faerie. She flipped him a rude gesture and darted out of sight.

  “If you insist. Tweezers?” she said simply to the animal as they walked up to the main doors. With no further prompting, the furry creature wormed its way under the T-shirt she wore beneath her open leather jacket. As Brendan watched, the lump stopped squirming and melted away, until her shirt flattened out against her skin once more. Charlie pulled down her collar to reveal a tattoo of a ferret on her white shoulder.

  “Happy, boss?”

  The ferret was taken care of. Brendan was relieved to see that at least. RDA had a strict no-pets policy, and Brendan didn’t need to tangle with Ms. Abernathy. The vice-principal had just returned to active duty after being thrown onto the school roof by Orcadia.39 Fortunately, Ms. Abernathy had no recollection of the incident, but she glared with lingering suspicion at Brendan whenever she passed him in the hall, her neck brace a constant reminder to him of the last time she’d tangled with his relatives.

  “Woo hoo!” several boys catcalled from the steps of the school. “Hey, honey! Can we see a little more?”

  “You?” Charlie called back good-naturedly, pulling her collar back into place. “You wouldn’t know what to do with a woman like me!”

  She marched up the steps and through the double doors with Brendan on her heels. A couple of boys gave Brendan the thumbs-up, and one asked, “Who’s the babe, Brendan?”

  Brendan rolled his eyes and didn’t answer. Instead, he followed Charlie through the door. He supposed Charlie was pretty good-looking. He hadn’t really thought about it before. As he watched her walk ahead of him down the hall, he took in her swaying hips in her tattered black jeans. In spite of the intense displeasure of having her invade his life, he couldn’t help but admit she was a babe, indeed.

  Dmitri and Harold fell over themselves to offer a seat to Brendan’s “cousin” Charles. Brendan, on the other hand, was greeted with grunts of annoyance. They still had to work on their social studies presentation, and his failure to show up for the meeting at his own house had been a massive inconvenience. None of his apologies made a dent in their disapproval.

  Brendan had hoped that his homeroom teacher might voice some objection over Charlie’s presence, but again, no such luck. He was just as charmed by her as everyone else. Not even the fact that she had no school uniform could queer the deal.

  “Of course she can sit in on your classes,” Mr. Carey simpered. “I’m sure she’ll be as quiet as a mouse.”

  Oh brother, Brendan groaned to himself. Is there anybody she can’t charm?

  No sooner had he formed this thought than the door opened and Kim walked in.

  She plopped down in her desk. “Morning, fellas. How’s it ha—” As soon as she saw Charlie sitting in the desk next to Brendan, she stopped short. If Kim had hackles they would have been standing up.

  “Who is she?” The words were flat but full of menace. If Charlie was intimidated, she didn’t let it show.

  “The name is Charles,” Charlie said lightly. “But you can call me Charlie.”

  “She’s Brendan’s cousin!” Harold offered.

  “She’s from Montreal,” Dmitri added, not to be outdone.

  Charlie must have started building a cover story on the fly. Brendan was amazed at how much the two nerdy boys had managed to learn about the new girl in three minutes. Usually, his friends were paralyzed by fear around the opposite sex.

  Brendan jumped out of his skin when Kim’s blistering gaze swung onto him and locked there. “Well, Brendan? Is that right? A cousin? I didn’t know you had a cousin.” She spat out the last word like a gob of poison.

  “Uh … ” Brendan didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know what he could say without making Harold and Dmitri suspicious. Surely she wasn’t angry at him? It wasn’t his fault. He’d like nothing better than to have this girl out of his life. He had hoped that Kim would help him attain that goal. Now, as he watched Kim glare at Charlie, looking her up and down, he realized that she was blaming him for bringing Charlie here.

  In the end, Kim swung her backpack, field hockey stick jutting out as always, to the floor and sat down with her back to Brendan. As he fumbled with his book bag he heard Harold whisper to Dmitri, “I guess she doesn’t like having competition in the hottie department.”

  “What’s a hottie?” Dmitri asked.

  “Quiet, you guys,” Brendan said. Brendan had to believe that there was more to this than cattiness and jealousy. Kim was his guardian and guide in the Faerie world. She wouldn’t take kindly to having another Faerie show up on her turf. From the look on Kim’s face, Charlie was as much a shock to her as she’d been to Brendan. He had to get Kim alone and explain. The starting bell cut into his thoughts.

  He didn’t have a chance to talk to Kim that morning in spite of his best efforts to corner her. She gave him the cold shoulder throughout the morning, sitting far away in French and history and not responding to his repeated balled-up messages thrown at her desk. A couple of times, when she wasn’t aware he was watching, he saw her staring daggers at Charlie.

  For her part, Charlie was ultra-charming. In every class she introduced herself to the teachers and explained why she was sitting in. Brendan was amazed that no one challenged her. She was irresistible. He was especially surprised
when she managed to get past Mr. Hutchingson, the cantankerous algebra teacher. He didn’t exactly welcome her with open arms, but he didn’t say no to her either.

  When he and Charlie left algebra, they almost ran into Chester Dallaire. The bigger boy was standing by the side of the door, fiddling with his binder. Chester looked up as Brendan approached, his brown eyes widening slightly.

  Brendan decided to break the ice. “Hi, Chester.”

  “Hey,” Chester mumbled.

  “How’s your mum?”

  “Fine.” Chester turned his gaze on Charlie, and his eyes widened almost imperceptibly. Brendan put it down to being so close to the force of nature that was Charlie. Every boy seemed drawn to her.

  “This is my cousin, Charlie. She’s visiting from Montreal.”

  Chester just stared at Charlie with a strange expression, halfway between fear and wonder.

  Charlie laughed and held out her hand. “I won’t bite. Nice to meet you, Chester.”

  Chester looked at the offered hand for a moment before gingerly shaking it.

  “I’ve gotta go,” the big boy stammered and spun away, barely missing a collision with another book-laden student in his eagerness to escape.

  “Wow.” Brendan laughed. “You’ve got a way with guys.”

  Charlie pouted prettily. “It’s a gift!”

  Lunchtime found Brendan in the cafeteria at his customary table with Harold, Dmitri, and Charlie. She scarfed down a mound of french fries smothered in gravy and bemoaned the fact that there was no cheese curd to make a proper poutine.40

  “This school is supposed to be a centre of civilized learning, non?” Charlie said. “And no cheese curd for the poutine? It’s disgraceful.”

  “I could go find you some,” Harold offered.

  “Me, too,” Dmitri chimed in. “What’s a cheese curd?”

  “Just cool it, guys.” Brendan shook his head. “It’s like you’ve never seen a girl before.”

  “Shoot! Mr. Greenleaf told me he wanted to see you,” Harold suddenly broke in. “I totally forgot.”