by Mary Dublin
"You're positive it was a werewolf bite?" Jon asked, glancing over at Cliff. "Figured it was too much to ask that it was just some rabid dog."
"The diameter was too small to be anything else. It was an older wound on the neck, all crusted over with nasty pus. The venom must have been festering for almost a month by the time we got to it."
Jon nodded, frowning at the ground. Images of the massive, mutated dog flickered vividly through his mind's eye. His calf throbbed with a brief, phantom pain. Not for the first time that day, he resisted the urge to smooth a hand over his leg and confirm that he was whole and healed. Even now, it seemed more of a miracle than he deserved.
"Guess it explains why it was bulging at the seams. The venom must've been like steroids to a dog that size. Still." Jon carefully stepped over a large knot of a tree root half-buried in the soft soil. "Weird that it didn't stick to the lunar cycle, don't you think?"
Cliff shrugged. "Dog wouldn't react same way as a human, I guess. The venom must've kept it savage 24/7. Whatever the case, the dog must have been in the wrong place at the wrong time for the gasher to get to it."
Jon smiled wryly. "Talk about wrong time. We set out to track a werewolf and we come back with a fairy. Think we might be losing our touch."
Cliff shook his head, insulted at the thought. "Speak for yourself. Full moon doesn't peak for another three weeks. We'll catch this sucker yet."
The trees graduated from bushy oaks to humble willow trees, the ground becoming more supple as they tread closer to the lake. They ducked under a canopy of low hanging branches, the leaves sliding over their backs like nature's caress. Cliff flailed an arm out to push a cluster of willow branches out of his way. He glared quietly at the ticklish strands, scratching his neck defensively. His green eyes slid over to Jon, lingering with a curious glint.
"Can I ask you something?" Cliff asked, his tone shifting.
"Shoot." Jon shrugged, stepping over a cluster of poisonous mushrooms.
"You sure were eager on getting out here again to see the fairy girl. Barely stirred my coffee by the time you'd started the car. What, are you sweet on her or something?"
Jon chuckled dismissively. "What are you talking about, man?"
"I'm not blind," Cliff countered, keeping an even pace with him. "I've seen how you look at her. Sure, she's cute, but she's… she's friggin' minuscule, Jon."
“You think I haven’t noticed?” Scowling, he focused his eyes on the root-ridden ground and advised Cliff to do the same. "Watch your step. We're almost there."
***
Sylvia raised her head at the sound of familiar voices in the distance and perked up. Their return was the only thing she had been able to look forward to, and yet as she tugged her hood forward over her face, she felt the undertone of dread rising up.
Say hello. Take the book. Say goodbye. Simple. Painless.
Staggering to her feet, she cleared her throat. As they came closer and closer, she caught pieces of their conversation, but she was too focused on being heard to listen. Their towering statures continued to make her apprehensive. Friendly or not, any misstep of theirs could be deadly. Keeping her wings and back against the trunk of the willow tree, she cupped her hands in front of her mouth and prayed her voice would carry.
"Hey! Over here!"
Jon threw an arm out, stopping both of them in their tracks. His deep voice carried with ease. "Hold up. I really heard her that time. Didn't you hear that?"
Cliff shook his head, but when he scanned over the woodland floor, it was he who noticed her first. Sylvia dropped her hands from her face and gave a little wave. Despite everything, she felt her nerves fray when his attention suddenly locked on her.
“Well, I’ll be damned," Cliff breathed. “She showed up.”
A serene breeze ruffled his short dirty blonde hair as he led the way to the willow tree. Both humans walked cautiously through the thin grass, seeming to take extra care not to startle her.
"Sylvia?" Jon knelt down next to Cliff, barely a foot away from her.
"What's up with the hood?" Cliff questioned before she could answer, struggling not to smile. "I'm sorry, I can't take you seriously in that thing."
She scoffed and crossed her arms beneath the cloak, hoping he wouldn't pry. "Would you really have taken me seriously anyway?" Lips visible in the shadows, she smiled. "Never thought I'd be so happy to see humans."
"Never thought I'd be driving twenty miles to meet up with a fairy," Cliff returned, a smirk tugging at a corner of his mouth.
She shook her head and turned to Jon. "Hello, by the way," she added pointedly. Despite the steep height disadvantage, he looked affected by the weight of her gaze.
"Hey," Jon murmured. His hand was cupped loosely upon his lap. She guessed it held the spell book, but he didn't offer it yet. "So, did they bust your ass for being seen with us?"
Her smile faded. "Yeah, something like that. I thought about making something up, but that didn't go as smoothly as I'd hoped."
How strange that she could confide so naturally to two humans when she couldn't stand to be with most of her own kind at this point. She sighed wearily, wondering for the umpteenth time if the ordeal had completely unhinged her.
"Well, did you bring the book?" she asked, trying not to sound impatient. "I'm not sure how I'll get it back into storage without being caught. I'm not allowed to access spellbooks for… a while. Guess I'll have to hold onto it until then."
Cliff's eyebrows shot up. "You're grounded, huh?"
"Literally." Sylvia answered his empathetic smile with a weak one of her own, looking over her shoulder at her wounded wing, sticking out from one of the slits in her cloak.
Cliff leaned in closer, his light eyebrows scrunching together in confusion.
"They don't want me to be able to fly off whenever I feel like," she explained carefully. "Part of my penance. I did break a big rule, doing what I did. The High Council—the, uh… people in charge—sort of told the healers I'm off-limits until further notice." She shrugged, avoiding the humans' disturbed looks.
Jon lowered his other leg so he was kneeling down on both knees. His hand descended a breath away from Sylvia, sturdy fingers uncoiling to reveal the spell book in his palm.
"Maybe this will help," Jon offered softly.
Mere days ago, she would have translated his proximity as a threat. Now, she didn't even flinch.
As she reached for the book, she was sure she heard a rustle of leaves in the cascading branches overhead. She glanced up, but decided it was a squirrel or bird passing through. Whatever it was, it caught the humans' attentions too before their heavy gazes were back on her. She supposed they all had the right to be a little jumpy.
Taking the thick volume in her hands, she leafed through the yellowed pages to make sure they were still intact before closing it again.
"Thanks," she said, smiling with genuine gratitude. "It was nice of you to come all the way out here to give it back." A breeze rushed by, shifting her hood. She hastily pulled forward with her free hand.
"It's no problem," Jon said with a shrug.
"Actually, we wanted to give you a heads up," Cliff announced. "Animal control is sweeping the area tomorrow, to make sure that thing didn't live in a pack."
"Guess I'll need to stay inside tomorrow," Sylvia said, dreading the idea. She looked between the humans slowly, wondering what they were planning to do now that the excitement was over. A twinge of jealousy rose up when she remembered they could do whatever they wanted, while she was stuck with minimal options. "So, think you'll be able to carry on now that you know fairies exist?"
"Think you can survive knowing not all of us big, scary humans are out to get you?" Cliff gave her a teasing grin, earning a small laugh and an eye roll from her.
Jon's smile was more contemplative. "Would… there be any point in keeping an eye out for you?"
The smile was completely wiped from Sylvia's face, her chuckling replaced with a thoughtful silence. She ha
dn't planned on telling them. But she hadn't taken into account they might be interested in seeing her again. They would be wasting their time ever coming back to the willows, in that case.
"Not around here," she said, crossing her arms around the book. Pacing to the side, she prepared to keep her voice as matter-of-fact as possible, but it betrayed her by faltering slightly. "I-I'm… actually planning on leaving soon. The village, I mean."
"Sounds pretty drastic." Cliff arched a brow. "Any ideas where you want to settle down?"
Jon frowned, his brown eyes following her every movement. She averted her gaze from him.
"I dunno," she admitted. "Maybe I won't settle down at all." The idea was actually enticing. "I can try to heal my wing now that I have the book. Can't get in trouble for using magic if I'm gone before they notice. After everything that's happened, I just can't see how I can go back to… normal." She lowered her eyes somberly. In its own way, the trial had been even more terrifying than the humans. She heaved a sigh. "Going back to living by some stupid rules would be torture."
Contemplation crossed Jon's face before he leaned down a little further toward her, moving his hand behind her. Her back brushed against his foremost finger when she shifted her weight in faint surprise. She glanced back at his hand, then focused forward on his face when he spoke.
"If you ever need a place to crash while you're figuring things out, our door is open, okay?"
She stared at him incredulously, the offer echoing in her ears.
"And they think you're the monsters," she said breathlessly, overwhelmed by his kindness and feeling suddenly lightheaded at having him so near again, touching.
Hesitantly, she set the book on the ground. All things considered, the humans were her only friends in this situation. After everything that happened, she was sure she couldn't speak about it to anyone without being judged. Except for them. She bit her lip, and then the words poured out rapidly.
"I wasn't going to show you, but I think I should," she blurted, her composure crumbling. "After you left, everything went wrong. Awful things happened, and it's making me question everything. I was so eager to get back home earlier, but then this—"
Hands shaking, she reached up and yanked her hood down. The left side of her face was covered in burns. Angry red twisting lines were branded upon her cheek, creating an intricate symbol from brow to jaw-line.
In an instant, Jon's hand closed around her with a gentle swiftness. He raised her to eye level, closer than he had ever held her before. Startled, she leaned back but didn't attempt to squirm away.
Cliff leaned in as well. "They did this to you?" he whispered.
Two giants scrutinizing her at such a close proximity should have been far more uncomfortable and terrifying than it was. They looked angry, but not at her. The concern glistening in their eyes was testament to that.
"It's because of us," Jon realized aloud. His frown furrowed deeper as he analyzed the swollen markings on her face. "It's because they saw you with humans."
"I tried to tell the High Council lies about what happened," she explained softly, keeping her gaze lowered as they examined her. "But they put a temporary spell on me. It was powerful. It forced me to tell the truth, whether I wanted or not. I told them everything. The shooting. The dog. The healing. Everything."
She lightly ran her fingertips along the burns, feeling the ridges. It still stung.
"It's the mark of highest treason," she went on, pained by her own words. "When it heals, it'll turn black permanently." She raised her eyes, a hardened look on her face as she made one thing perfectly clear. "But I don't regret any of it. I'm glad to be a traitor to the Council, now that I've seen how they react to someone saving a life!"
Jon cupped a second hand around her, curling the thumb inward to brush the offended cheek. Her fingers were pressed under his and warmed promptly.
"I'm so sorry, Sylvia," he murmured.
A sad smile softened the scowl on her lips. She leaned against his hand and closed her eyes, deeply cherishing the knowledge that at least someone cared. He wasn't simply throwing pity at her. It was genuine.
"I know," she said. "But you've helped me in ways I can't even begin to explain. Like I said, I don't regret any of it. I feel… I dunno, free."
There was another rustle of leaves from somewhere above. When Sylvia opened her eyes, she noticed something dart around in the corner of her vision. She turned her head just in time to see a flash of red hair duck behind the drape-like leaves on the low branch of a willow tree.
"Hazel," Sylvia hissed under her breath.
Jon snapped his gaze to where Sylvia was looking, startling her when his fingers curled slightly inward in what could only be a protective gesture. Cliff was on his feet in an instant, a sight quite terrifying to behold from so close.
"I knew it," he muttered, storming over to the branch.
He plunged an arm into the foliage, inspiring a frightened yelp to cut over the sound of rustling. Cliff pulled his hand back out with Hazel trapped in a fist. Only her shoulders and head were visible, arms pinned to her sides and wings pinned to her back. She didn't even squirm, staring up at her captor with raw fear written all over her face.
"Cliff, stop!" Sylvia's voice was filled with urgent concern despite her annoyance with Hazel. "Let her go!" She got to her feet on Jon's curved palm, trying not to topple over on the uneven surface.
Cliff crouched down again next to Jon, uncurling his grip on the tiny girl. Hazel scrambled to right herself atop his calloused palm, looking around wildly. Her wings twitched and spread fully, but she didn't fly off. And for a good reason: the human's enormous fingers remained tensed, ready to spring shut.
"You know, eavesdropping is going to get you in trouble," Cliff said, arching a blonde brow menacingly.
"It already did," Sylvia added, shooting Hazel a stern look once she was satisfied her little sister was unhurt. "You shouldn't be out here."
Hazel scowled defiantly, seeming to momentarily forget that she was standing in the hand of the person who'd shot her sister. "Neither should you! So you can do stupid things, but I can't?"
A smirk twitched on Sylvia's lips. "That's right."
Hazel only looked more infuriated. "You can't fly! You're going to get hurt again if you keep coming out here!"
"Well, I got hurt in there, so I don't see your point," she shot back, pointing at the traitor brand on her face.
Hazel’s face reddened, indignant in a way familiar to Sylvia. “I heard what you were saying. You can’t run away! N-not with humans. They’ll eat you alive or cut you up or—“
“Stop yelling! Someone will hear you and then we’ll all be sorry. I’m not going anywhere, okay?” Sylvia was entirely ready to reassure her further but the look in Jon’s enormous brown eyes cemented her where she stood in his hands. She frowned, letting her arms drop to her sides underneath her amber colored cloak. What was he thinking, when he grew so sullen and focused on her like that?
She was almost afraid to call his attention. “Jon?”
“You could, you know,” he said quietly after a great deal of consideration. It was that considering part that left her dizzy. He had thought it over. He meant it.
“I… what?”
“Come with us, I mean. I… I really meant what I said before.”
Her surprise only grew when Cliff exchanged a long look with the other hunter and visibly softened at the prospect. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but he’s got a point,” Cliff grunted. “Our place isn’t the Ritz-Carlton, but we don’t brand our friends.”
The offer caught her off guard. And that word— friends. When venturing out that day, she hadn't planned on running off with the humans again. Now, looking between them, a wanderlusting burn tugged at her heart.
"I-I don't know—" She could see Hazel in the corner of her eyes, watching her with wide, horror sticker eyes. But it was something else that stopped her: barreling toward them was a blast of blinding white fire.
>
Before she could even make a sound of surprise, it extinguished in mid-air. Only a warning. Sylvia's gaze trailed up to the source, knowing who she would find. A female fairy with auburn hair hovered among the branches, well out of the humans' reach. Her hands, raised forward, writhed with flames that didn't burn her, illuminating her scowling face that looked every bit as dangerous as the fire itself.
"Oh no," Sylvia muttered, more annoyed than anything.
Jon and Cliff raised their heads, having to crane their necks to spot the attacker. Their eyes widened, able to feel the faint heat of the very real flames.
“Who the hell are you?” Cliff barked. Hazel yelped as his hands dropped a considerable distance towards his middle.
The fairy glowered indiscriminately, dilated eyes shifting between the humans. She didn't waste any time. "Unless you want to be burned alive, I suggest you release my daughters now."
“Okay, okay. Take it easy, lady…”
"We're not hurting anyone," Jon interjected, his calm voice trembling. "And we're not going to. Your girls are safe, see for yourself.”
The woman scoffed. "You really have the nerve to say that? After putting a hole in Sylvia's wing! You just threatened to take them away—"
"They weren't threatening, Mother!" Sylvia interrupted, clenching her fists at her sides. "They're my… friends, alright? So you can put the fire away, thank you."
Her mother looked simultaneously concerned and horrified. Pursing her lips, she lowered her hands, flames fading but not completely disappearing. "Then I'm sure your friends wouldn't mind letting you go back to the village this instant, before we have a repeat of yesterday." She narrowed her eyes skeptically at the humans.
Cliff scowled. "We're not the ones who burnt her face like some escaped cattle."
Jon's hand twitched slightly, and Sylvia turned over her shoulder to shoot him a worried look. He was going to give in and put her back on the ground; she could feel it in the tendons dancing under the platform of calloused skin. She tried to catch his eye, but he was still keeping a wary gaze on her mother.
