by Gavin Green
Chapter 16
The tiny creature bellowed with a shrill voice when it was once again snipped in the head by a comparatively huge finger. Tied to a plant root that protruded into the shallow earthen cave, it fell slack in its rough twine bindings. The bound creature was called a flitter, a common Lore creature sometimes compared to Verden vermin, except in miniature human form with moth wings. Much to its dismay, Lorcan had caught it near the border of his small holdings.
As soon as the flitter regained its senses and began struggling again, it received another stunning flick to the head. Tormenting the helpless creature was merely a diversion for Lorcan, and an outlet to vent his frustrations. Also, it was fun to him. And he had so little fun as of late.
Lorcan was under the oracle's power for four successful errands, and the first was an abject failure. He rubbed his face again to make sure the swelling had been completely willed away, but his left eye was still a bit blurry. He could only assume that Lynch was a strong fae living as a human, which would explain his terrible strength. The redcap wondered if Enochia knew that before sending him. And he was only sent to warn Lynch of a girl? With what he'd seen, and felt, some silly lass would be of little concern to that one.
So, in Lore swamplands that he called home, under a perpetually bruised evening sky, Lorcan sat in his damp little earthen cave and brooded. His thoughts of petty retributions were interrupted by another mental call from the oracle. He sullenly stood, hatefully reminded of his servitude.
With a childish snarl, Lorcan stomped on the dizzy flitter with an oversized muck boot. He left it to die a slow, painful death and instant-traveled to Enochia's dusty parlor.
"So, you failed; pity."
The redcap had barely arrived when he heard the familiar voice filled with contempt. "You were simply to deliver a message," Enochia went on, "the most modest of chores. Out of compassion, I thought to give you humble duties to complete your time with me. I see that I have overestimated you. I could have sent an old pixie in your stead and gotten better results."
Lorcan sneered at Enochia as she sat complacently at her table, as she always did. On the draped, circular table was the tiniest china serving set he'd ever seen, but paid it little mind. "I was sent to converse with an irate slummer! What did you expect?"
Enochia frowned. "A slummer… Do you mean to tell me that Mr. Lynch is fae, masquerading as a human? I find that hard to believe, unless he is extremely adept and convincing."
"He threw a huge rock at me!" Lorcan exclaimed as he hovered a few feet into the air "And he had defenses. I threw a quick nudge his way, and he didn't even blink." That was a brazen lie, but he didn't expect the oracle to pick his brain over a minor fabrication. "I barely escaped, so I don't think that chore should count."
Thin eyebrows rose over azure blue eyes. "Think again; it was a failed attempt for a simplistic task, and therefore your number has risen from four to five." Enochia raised a four-fingered hand to stop Lorcan's impending objection. "However, I have another immediate task, simple and safe, to reduce your tally back to four. So you see, I can be kind and forgive your ineptitude."
The remark grated on the little fae, but he knew better than to cross verbal swords with the oracle. "What is it?" he asked with a soured expression.
"There is a tinker - a brownie - I wish you to bring back here to me. She has already been contacted and awaits your arrival for transportation. She is at the Ballaghadaere day care center, in the toy room."
Lorcan's over-wide mouth formed a grin. "With tikes about?" he asked, thinking that nudging even children would keep him in form.
"You expect to see children there in the middle of the night?" Enochia asked scornfully. "I think the residents care enough about their young ones not to leave any behind to fend for themselves over a Verden weekend."
"Oh, right. So that's it? That's all you need?"
"Yes, if you can manage the task. And now would be good."
Lorcan immediately vanished. Enochia carefully poured warm tea into the miniscule cups, and wondered how her next meeting might play out, not having foreseen it. If naught else, the pleasant company would be a welcome change.
The little redcap reappeared at the far end of the room with an even smaller fae in his grasp. He shoved the tiny woman roughly away from him and faced the oracle. "There you are - the brownie you asked for. This brings us back to four, correct?"
Enochia nodded, and Lorcan vanished again. She then looked over and down at her new visitor, who was dusting herself off. "I do apologize; it is so difficult to find good help these days. Please, come near and join me for tea."
The tiny fae levitated over to stand on the far side of the table top. Only a foot tall, the brownie nonetheless resembled a human woman. A faded grey headscarf mostly covered her pastel blue and grey hair. Light blue eyes sat in a pleasant, middle-aged face. Her dress was a busy floral print with a neutral background, and rested comfortably over her thick hips. Over that was a dark grey apron, which matched her worn gloves and boots.
The tea cup was still huge to the brownie, comparatively the size of a bucket to a human, but Enochia had nothing smaller. The small fae approached the cup slowly, took in the aroma, and then picked it up with ease. She took a sip, set it back down, and looked back up at her host with a small smile. Her dimples reflected an affable personality and made her appear younger. "Thank ye, ma'am."
Enochia took a sip of her own. "You're quite welcome. Again, I apologize for your shabby treatment at my servant's hands, but his skills were necessary to carry you to my private haven. I promise to give you your due respect from this moment on. You are welcome here."
The brownie curtsied. "I'm honored, ma'am."
It occurred to Enochia that perhaps more than just a glimpse of far-sight might have been prudent beforehand. Brownies were known to be passive and genteel folk, drawn to humans in need and helpful in a household, as their broad title, 'tinker', implied. The little one's presence was also a reminder that size had no bearing on the power or range of gifts she wielded. Enochia had only vague knowledge of this particular fae, but her name had been mentioned with warm respect by Oriana in passing. "The honor is mine. You go by the name Liadan?"
"That I do, ma'am."
The oracle nodded. "Well met, Liadan. I am Enochia of Eight. I'm glad you agreed to meet with me." She watched the brownie take another sip. "Is the tea to your liking? Your kind has a reputation for literal taste and skill in a kitchen, so I hope it doesn't offend your palette."
"It'll do fine as it is, ma'am, thank ye."
As she reclined into her high-backed chair, Enochia asked, "Forgive my ignorance, but have you taken haven hereabouts? You're mentioned by Oriana to be a long-standing face in these parts."
Liadan gave another dimpled smile. "I'd not take ye for ignorant, ma'am, even though I know of ye by reputation only." She set her large cup down and began working out a wrinkle of the tablecloth with her foot. "As for havens, I always be thinking of one when I finish this chore or that, but I normally just retire back to the Lore for a spell before returning. I've made a few fae-bridges about the lovely village, so it's no grand inconvenience." She looked up after smoothing the cloth. "Sorry, ma'am - habit. And now what of your own self; do ye get back to Lore holdings often?"
Enochia set down her cup. "Oh, my travels aren't noteworthy. Besides, I was hoping to learn more of you and possibly offer a pact, one that would appeal to you, should you be willing."
With a head tilted in possible interest, Liadan replied, "I've not entered into many pacts, ma'am. Me services tend to be a bit simple and rustic for most."
"Perhaps, but only to those in need of exotic abilities," Enochia replied casually. "For what I have in mind, I believe there'd be no finer choice than you. If I may ask, Liadan, have you been visiting Ballaghadaere for a time?"
"Oh to be sure, ma'am, I've been coming to the area for long and long, and the village is soft in me heart. I found it in me travels long before it be named. It was t
he coastal villages I used to assist, but I then followed the Vikings when they raided inland. There were many who needed infection pulled and a touch of healing help from dirty blades and open wounds. I did the same during the time of Brian Boru and that bloody mess. I stayed in this part of the land through famines and drought - and that dry spell in 1575 got right ugly, I can say for fact - all the way up to the 'ere an' now. So, to answer if I've been here 'for a time'; yes ma'am, ye could say that. Excepting maybe one other good fae, I might be the one who's been about Ballaghadaere the longest."
Enochia smiled and set her cup down. "Then you know the area well, perhaps better than any other. Tell me, do you know of a cottage just to the north, along the shore of Lough Gaell? It was, until recently, the Finnegan home?"
Liadan poured a drip of milk in her cup. "Aye, I know the Finnegan place well enough. I gave a hand on occasion to Michael and Maira when they started feeling age in their bones. A good man, Michael was, and kind to his wife. And poor, lonely Maira after he passed; I kept her necessaries in fair shape, but it was Oriana who looked after the widow in the end." Liadan then added a healthy scoop of sugar to her tea. "And ye say that the place has changed hands? I suppose it has been some little time since last I visited there." After she stirred and sipped, Liadan added a few large drops of honey to her cup.
Unable to suppress a smirk, Enochia said, "I suppose my brewing skill needs work."
Liadan looked up as she gave one last stir with a big spoon. "Not at all, ma'am," she said politely. "It only needed a touch of... everything."
Enochia found herself truly enjoying the tiny fae's company. Liadan put on no airs to bolster herself as the guest of an elder, nor did she cower in fear of reprisal. The brownie displayed etiquette with a casual flare, and was entertaining in conversation. Enochia thought that Liadan was well-suited for the offer in mind.
With the comfort to strike an informal pose, the normally-proper Drommen elder leaned forward with elbows on the table, and rested her chin on interlaced fingers. "Liadan, if you have no other pressing matters, I would like to offer you a pact. Perhaps with circumstances you haven't dealt with before. I wish you to return to that cottage, now known as the Lynch cottage, and give assistance."
"They're in a bad way, then, ma'am?" Liadan asked over her cup.
"Actually, the couple gets by quite well, from what I hear. The place is now home to Brody Lynch and Kate McCarthy, and those two are special. I believe Mr. Lynch has been fully graced - almost unheard of in the last few centuries - and by an elder, no less. Not to be outdone, Miss McCarthy has a form of fae-sight, more than likely from breeding. They are both aware of us. Attempts to rectify that have been tried and failed."
Liadan's eyes grew wider as her host spoke. "By the elements, what a pair," she said. "And yet their home falls to ruin? Is that how I might be needed to aid such a capable couple?"
"Well, no, not in any necessary capacity. You'd be acting as more of a fae ambassador, when the time arises." Enochia sighed. "You see, they've had encounters with a few of our kind recently, and they've been left with poor examples and hard feelings. Now, I would only expect you to carry on any duties that are in your nature while there, but I'd hope that you would be a better example. You might even give counsel, should they ask. We can't repair this breach of Enigma in any case, so more information given to them couldn't hurt. It might soften their views, but I'd leave that to your discretion. The couple might prove convenient allies in the future."
Liadan shook her head in wonder. "That might be the strangest situation I've ever heard of." She looked up at Enochia. "And what if they simply fail to notice me, even after a time? I won't go putting meself on display, ma'am. What's more, if there's little or naught to mend, then I'd be taking poor satisfaction from the whole affair."
Enochia sat back with her hands in her lap. "As to the first; if you run out of chores to accomplish and they fail to notice you, then your part of the pact will be considered met and you may move on. And while they may keep the cottage and lands in good repair, I am told that that the couple and their holdings give off more than their fair share of glamour, which may appease you. Beyond that, I would wish regular updates, and ask for a small request here or there along the way."
The brownie nodded in vague approval and then drained her large cup of tea. She dabbed her lips with her apron and asked, "That could turn into quite the endeavor, and with a responsibility set upon me shoulders. Might I ask your offer, ma'am?"
"I propose a haven that would suit your needs," Enochia answered. "The place I have in mind sits on derelict property, behind a rural home, but reasonably close to the village. I will even glamour it; should anyone take ownership of the property in the future, they will remain ignorant of you. Any fae-bridge you desire from there will be left to you - I'm sure you're more adept at creating them than I am. Does this sound fair?"
"As far as I can tell, aye, it does," the brownie answered, nodding. "When would we both set forth to complete our own parts of this pact?"
"Is tomorrow too soon for you, Liadan?"
The tiny fae brightened with her charming dimples. "Never a slacker have I been called. The morrow sounds grand."
Enochia nodded. "Then let it be done and so. This is a bound pact, and may we both benefit from it."
