by Sean Cullen
Brendan refused to accept it. He reached for the phone on the floor and grabbed it. He instantly cried out and dropped the phone again. As he watched, stunned, sparks fountained from the cell and the entire handset melted into a puddle of plastic slag. He looked at the blob that had been his cellphone.
Part of his mind was asking, “Is that covered under my insurance plan?” while another was asking, “Where can I find another phone?”
He scanned the room but didn’t see anything resembling a phone. He wasn’t surprised. “Why would a Troll need to phone anyway?” He hopped down from the chair and went to the door. He was almost afraid to touch it after the phone incident, but he had to get out of there. Borje didn’t seem threatening but … he was a Troll! That couldn’t be good! Trolls hid under bridges and ate people. He didn’t want to push his luck. Brendan couldn’t even remember the route he’d come by. He’d read in a book once that if you kept turning left, you would eventually escape a labyrinth. This was the closest to a labyrinth he’d ever encountered so hopefully that logic would work.
He tentatively pushed on the door. There was no handle. He’d thought the door was made of metal but he realized now that it wasn’t. It was warm to the touch and had a glassy texture like nothing he’d ever felt before. The door didn’t yield to a gentle shove. He pushed harder. Nothing.
He almost jumped out of his skin when the Troll called from the kitchen, “Do you like anchovies?”
Anchovies? On nachos? “Yeah. Love them!” He pushed with all his might on the door but it wouldn’t budge. He backed up and prepared to throw himself against the door when he was interrupted by a loud banging on it.
“Open up!” Kim’s voice was muffled but still recognizable. “Come on, Borje! Open up!”
Borje came bustling out of the kitchen holding a vast platter of nachos and wearing an apron that read HAIL TO THE CHEF with a version of the U.S. presidential seal that pictured the American eagle holding a spatula and a wooden spoon. “Coming!” He slammed the platter down on the table, sending a few stray tortilla chips scattering on the tabletop. Wiping his vast hands on the apron, he hurried to the door. Brendan stood back as he pulled the steel key from his pocket and tapped it on the door. Again, the door glowed faintly with a silver light and swung open to reveal Kim, her school uniform slightly torn and smudged with soot. Her face was similarly smeared. In her right hand she was carrying her field hockey stick. In her left, she held a set of scooter handlebars.
“So there you are,” she said. “I thought I’d be scraping you off the front of a southbound train, but thanks to Borje here, you’re all in one piece.”
She tossed the handlebars onto the floor with a clatter. “Too bad I can’t say the same for my scooter. Og and the Artificers are going to kill me.”
Borje beamed. “I’ve made some nachos. Are you hungry, Ki-Mata?”
“Starved,” Kim announced. Without a second glance at Brendan, she marched to the table and vaulted into one of the high chairs. She wrinkled her nose when she saw the mound of chips loaded with cheese and toppings. “Anchovies?”
“He said he whanted them!” Borje pointed a knobby finger at Brendan, who simply stared.
Kim sneered at Brendan. “Figures.” She began to pick the salty fish fillets off the chips with her fingers.
“So I like anchovies,” Brendan said defensively. “Sue me. I’ve had it. Tell me what’s going on!”
Kim shook her head, licking her fingers. “It’s not for me to say. I was told to Ward you and that’s what I’ve done. Now I have to deliver you to the Swan. So why don’t you just have some nachos and try to get some rest. We’re safe for the moment.”
Brendan wasn’t satisfied. “Why should I go anywhere with you? You aren’t the person I thought you were. And you say things like ‘your human family’! Like I’m not human.”
Kim just stared at him thoughtfully, chewing a mouthful of chips.
“If I’m not human, what am I?” Brendan shouted. “What am I?”
Kim shrugged and said simply, “I told you. You’re a Faerie.”
“You said that before,” Brendan said, annoyed, “but what does it mean?”
“A Faerie. A Faerie with a capital F-a-e-r-i-e! An old-school Faerie. One of the Fair Folk, an ancient race of magical beings.”
Brendan stared at her in disbelief, then burst out laughing.
57 The Toronto Maple Leafs are the Toronto professional hockey franchise. They are one of the most famous and most enduring hockey teams in the world. Their fans are fanatical despite the fact that, as of this publication, they hadn’t won a championship in over forty years. Their fans are both fanatical and masochistic.
58 Lord Stanley, Governor General of Canada, donated the Silver Cup in 1892 to be presented to the best amateur hockey team in Canada. It later became the ultimate professional hockey prize, going to the winner of the National Hockey League playoffs. The cup has been accidentally left on buses, streetcars, trains; dropped in swimming pools; been lost, found, lost, and found again a number of times. Borje’s claim to have purloined the original cup is not so hard to credit, considering how many times it has gone missing in the past.
59 Borje Salming was one of the first European hockey players to play professionally in North America. A stalwart defenceman, he was a fan favourite for many years. In retirement, he followed many important pursuits, including designing and selling his own line of underwear.
60 Leif Eriksson, or Lucky Leif, is believed to have discovered North America in the tenth century. Accompanied by a group of adventurous Vikings from Greenland (of which Borje claims to have been one), Eriksson made landfall somewhere on the island of Newfoundland. They built some huts, collected some wood and wild grapes, then returned to the Greenland settlement. Borje appears to have been left behind in the New World and is therefore assumed to be the first permanent European settler in the New World.
61 Trolls are a race of mythical beings that originated in the frigid mountains of Scandinavia. They are easily recognized by their characteristic skin: a thick, rough hide with a deep blue colour. Their natural habitat is mountainous terrain where they tend to live in remote caves, though some, like Borje, enjoy living underground. They are incredibly strong and resistant to most magic. And they tend to smell quite powerfully.
NACHOS, MARSHMALLOWS, ANCHOVIES
Kim watched him laugh, wipe his eyes, and wheeze as she calmly devoured more of the nachos. She made a face.
“Do I taste … marshmallow?” she asked in disgust.
“I like marshmallows,” Borje mumbled.
“Hold it,” Brendan gasped after he managed to get control of himself. “Hold it just a second. You’re telling me I’m a fairy? Me? A fairy? Like Tinkerbell?”
“No.” Kim rolled her eyes, picking a stray anchovy off her corn chip. “No. Not like Tinkerbell. Tinkerbell is a total misrepresentation of what Faeries are. We aren’t tiny little things that flit around and wave wands… Well, for the most part we aren’t. There are lots of different kinds but none of them are as silly as that.”
Brendan had finally managed to stop laughing. He stared at Kim in disbelief. “You honestly believe what you’re saying, don’t you. You actually think you’re a fairy.”
“I don’t think,” Kim stated. “I know. I am a Faerie. And so are you.”
Brendan tried to take this in. “And him?” He pointed at Borje.
“No,” Kim said calmly, as if talking to a child. “Obviously, Borje is a Troll.”
“I already told him this,” Borje complained.
“Is there a difference?” Brendan asked.
“A big difference,” Kim answered. “There are a number of different races that inhabit the world beyond Human awareness: Faeries, Trolls, Dwarfs. Look, I don’t have time for a history lesson. We’re safe in here for a little while but the Wards on that door won’t hold in the face of a concerted effort by Orcadia and her helpers. Borje is a Troll and so he is basically neutral. His home
is protected under the provisions of the Truce but Orcadia doesn’t appear to respect it any more. She wants you and she’ll stop at nothing, not even the Sacred Truce.”
Brendan held up his hands. “Hold it! Hold it! None of this makes any sense! What Truce? Who is that crazy woman? Why does she want to kill me? I haven’t done anything to her.”
“She doesn’t want to kill you, necessarily. She wants to turn you … never mind! It doesn’t matter. It’s what you represent. You could shift the balance. There are some Fair Folk who don’t like the status quo. They want to go to war with the Humans. We have to get you to the Swan. We have to get you initiated. Once you’re initiated, you will be in a better position to defend yourself.”
“Initiated?” Brendan couldn’t absorb anything she was saying. “Initiated into what?”
“I’ve already said too much.” Kim wiped her mouth with her sleeve. “Listen, I didn’t ask for this job. I was assigned to protect you. Now that fool Deirdre D’Anaan has ruined everything by breaking the glamour that allowed you to hide in the Human world. The only way to ensure you survive and don’t go over to the Darkness is to get you to the Swan and get you initiated. I intend to do that.”
“Why should I trust you? I didn’t even know your real name until this afternoon. Ki-Mata? Is that even your real name?” Brendan said sullenly.
“Yes, it’s my real name,” Kim said. “At least, it’s the one I share with others. I have another name, a secret name as well, but that is only shared with those I trust. Breandan is your true name. You’ll get your secret name when you are initiated.” She stood up. “I have to get you to the Swan so that can take place.”62
“So you never were my friend,” Brendan said. “You were lying to me all along.”
Kim didn’t answer. She thoughtfully licked salsa off her fingers. “If it makes you happy to believe that, fine.”
“I want to go home,” Brendan said.
“Whether you believe it or not, that’s where I’m taking you,” Kim said softly, without looking at him. “You’ll go to the Swan and be among your own people again.”
“I’m talking about my mum and dad … and even Delia. I want to go home to my house.”
“Impossible.” Kim shook her head. “They’ll be tracking their way back there now. They’ll be watching for you. You won’t be safe. They won’t be safe.”
He stomped to the door and slammed his fist into it. He immediately regretted it. His knuckles stung but he swallowed the pain. “Open this door right now. I demand that you let me go! This is kidnapping!”
Kim glared at him. “Kidnapping?” She hopped down from the chair and casually pulled the field hockey stick out of her knapsack as she crossed the floor to stand in front of Brendan. He unconsciously pressed his back against the door, shrinking away from her. “I’m tempted to add assault and battery to my list of crimes. But I assure you of one thing, and this you must believe if you believe nothing else. If you do not come with me and do exactly as I say, you will die. Or worse.”
“What could be worse than dying?”
“Do you really want to find out?”
Brendan didn’t know what to say. He looked into her eyes and he saw that she was absolutely serious. Kim put her stick back in her knapsack. “Rest’s over. We have to go.”
“Wait.” Brendan’s voice stopped her. “How can I take you seriously? I mean, put yourself in my shoes. I’m just supposed to believe you and follow you anywhere you say? You have to give me some proof.”
Kim cocked her head and looked at him, considering. “Fine. You had a spiral mark on your chest over your heart. I’ve never seen it but I know it was there.” Brendan’s hand went to the spot of its own accord. She continued, “It’s what we call a Ward, a magical safeguard. A Ward is a kind of magic seal, in your case, a mark on your flesh. A glamour was embedded within just after you were born.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Brendan interrupted. “What’s a glamour?”
Kim crossed her arms, the very picture of exaggerated patience. “A glamour is a magical illusion, a manipulation of earth energy that warps perception. There are many kinds but basically, it makes people see things differently from the way they actually are. In your case, the glamour allowed you to live hidden among Humans without their knowing you were Faerie. It also hid you from Faerie eyes. And now that magic is gone.”
“Yeah, it’s gone,” Brendan whispered. “That woman’s little creature ate it in my dream last night.”
Kim nodded. “All the more reason to hurry. The glamour is wearing off. Look.”
She pointed to a mirror, more a slab of polished metal that leaned against the wall by the door. Brendan stepped in front of it and gasped.
He was looking at his own reflection but it was slightly altered. His skin was paler even than normal but it shone with health. The giant pimple he’d been nursing all week was completely gone. All evidence of blemishes, zits, or blackheads (the bane of every teen’s existence) was gone. His hair, normally a bland sandy brown, was shot through with streaks of amber and gold. He held up his hands before his face. The fingers seemed longer, more perfectly formed. He sighed in wonder. He grinned and was shocked to see that his teeth, crooked the day before, were now straight and even, white as snow.
“You’re taking on Faerie form. Soon the glamour will dissipate completely. Humans will see you for what you really are. That would be bad for us all.”
“Why bad?”
“Because we have a touchy relationship with Humans. They like to think we magical races, like Faeries, Trolls, and Dwarfs, don’t exist, and as long as we don’t do anything too outrageous or flamboyant, the Truce is maintained.”
That was a little disturbing so he focused on Kim. He looked Kim up and down. She was still wearing her school uniform: green kilt, green blazer, and white shirt. She looked like a normal schoolgirl. “And you’re like me?”
She gave a nod, smirked, and flicked her wrist. Kim shimmered as though she were going out of focus, then her image sharpened again. Her clothes had not changed but her face was different. Not that it had been altered in any major way. Her features were somehow more defined, more elegant.
Her hair, normally a dull brown, was a lustrous and shining chestnut shot through with strands of silver. She held out her hands and from her palms sprouted tattoos in the shape of vines. As he watched, dumbstruck, the vines, glittering and golden, twined up her forearms and out of sight under her shirt sleeves. She smiled, revealing teeth that shimmered with a tinge of gold as well.
The corner of her mouth quirked up and the smirk widened. “So? Believe me now?”
Brendan gulped. “I don’t know what I believe any more.” He suddenly looked at Borje. “Is that what you really look like?”
Borje rumbled with laughter and pulled at his cheek with his fingers, making his grotesque face slightly more ugly. “Yo! This is all Borje. Good and ugly.”
“Okay,” Kim snapped. “Show and tell is over. We have to get going.”
“Hold it!” Brendan said. “One more question.”
Kim sighed. “Make it quick.”
“You said the Ward was placed on me at birth, right?”
“Yeah,” she said impatiently.
“By who? Who wanted me hidden?”
Kim frowned. “I should let Ariel tell you. He’s the Eldest among us.”
“Come on,” Brendan pleaded. “I really want to know.”
Kim sighed again. “It was your father. Your true father.”
Brendan was silent then, trying to absorb this bit of news. Then he said, “Where is he? Will I meet him?”
“That’s a bit complicated,” Kim said. “I’ll have to let Ariel explain.” She tapped the door with her stick. “Right now, we have to get to the Swan. Okay?”
Brendan shrugged. “What choice do I have?”
“Now that’s the first smart thing you’ve said today.” Kim grinned. Turning to the Troll, she said, “Borje? The door!”
Borje raised his hands in protest. “Nay! Not the front door. They whill be expecting that.” He raised the tapestry that led to the kitchen and gestured one giant hand for them to enter.
They followed Borje across the kitchen. He seemed to love shiny things. The stone coun- tertop was crammed full of the latest appliances: a blender, a shining toaster, a microwave, a food processor, and many other chrome-encrusted gadgets. Borje stopped in front of the fridge, a monolithic slab of stainless steel glimmering in the overhead light.
Borje patted the polished metal surface lovingly, caressing its smooth surface as if the appliance were a favourite pet. “Amana has a secret, don’t you, girl?” The huge Troll chuckled to himself. He bent over and lifted the entire fridge in his massive hands. Grunting with the effort, he turned and put the fridge on the floor.
Where the fridge had been was a gaping rectangular hole in the natural rock of the wall. A cool breeze drifted up from the hole. Brendan stepped closer and peered down. Steps, roughly carved from the stone, led down into darkness. The walls ran with water. Brendan felt his stomach sink.
“This is handy, Borje,” Kim commented, inspecting the entrance.
“Ya! When I moved down from the old hockey arena Maple Leaf Gardens a few years ago, I had to use subway tunnels. Risky! But when I got here, there whas so much construction, nobody noticed when I borrow few tools and do a little digging of my own.” The vast bulk of his chest jiggled with childish laughter. “I dig right under their noses. Now, I can go and whatch the baseball game if I whant or go to the train station or even down to the Harbourfront whithout going upside. Very convenient!”
“It’ll do,” Kim decided, all business now. “C’mon, Brendan. Let’s move.”
“No way,” Brendan said firmly. “I’m not going down there.”
Kim glared at him. “There’s no other way.”
“I’ve had enough of tunnels. It’s dark and I can’t go down there. And another thing …”
“You’re scared?” Kim offered, eyebrow cocked in derision.
