Sprite

Neistah circled lazily around Lara, letting his hand trail over her hair as it floated by. ’Did you miss me?’ he asked, mind to mind.

’You know I did,’ she replied the same way, twisting her body so that she kept his face in sight. Her hair wrapped around them both, a honey cloud in the clear green water.

Neistah let her get closer, then stole a kiss before kicking away towards the surface. ‘Good’ he thought, grinning wickedly. Lara shot up behind him, giggling aloud as he grabbed her around the waist and pulled her half out of the water. He kissed her more thoroughly then, and used the leverage the land gave him to do more than kiss her. She wore her hair as her only adornment, and in a matter of moments, so did Neistah.

Later, they lay on the banks of the green pool, which was deserted except for Neistah and Lara. The others had discreetly left them alone so they could have this time together. Neistah slipped his golden trunks back up, checking to make sure his knives were still secure in their hidden pockets. “You know,” Lara commented, peeking at him lazily through half-lidded eyes, “I could make you one of those if you want.”

Neistah grinned. “Are you saying you’ll choose me? And only me?” He fingered her soft, honey brown hair. “I don’t think so. Not when there are so many fine choices out there.”

Lara giggled, and shoved at his arm playfully. “Fine, then. Wear your mother’s weave, then.” She ran her hands over the soft gold material of his swimming trunks, and draped her own darker hair over the top. “See what you’re missing?”

Neistah rolled over and pinned her on the bank, gazing into her eyes which were the exact shade of her hair. “And what am I missing?” he challenged, laughing softly. “I have you already, don’t I? What need do I have of your weaving?”

“That’s true,” Lara conceded with a smile. It faded as she stared up into Neistah’s dark eyes. “I’m glad you came home.”

’So am I,’ Neistah answered, tumbling her beneath the water where they were both the most comfortable.

x x x x x x

Ripples spread across the pool, moving ominously closer to the young beauty bathing in the shallows. She paid them no mind. Today all her focus was on dressing her hair. She picked strands of vine from the tree by the water’s edge and twined them in her long hair. The effect was that her hair looked alive, the green of the leaves blending with the green-gold of her hair as if they truly grew from her head.

The ripples broke and a long body shot up from the water inches from her face.

“Mother.” Neistah bowed before her. She frowned at him, annoyed at being interrupted. Neistah kissed her cheek and sank back into the water, watching her.

‘What is it, Neistah?’

‘Can I not just visit for no other reason than to spend time with you?’

His mother smiled indulgently, but answered, ’Not you, Neistah. You always have a reason.’

“I’m bored.” Neistah spoke out loud, and his mother laughed.

“You?” she replied the same way. “With all the lovely ladies I’ve seen you with lately? It’s hard to believe you would be tired of their company already. Or is it—?” She arched her eyebrow. “—you have chosen one of them after all?” Her eyes locked on the woven trunks she had made for him out of her own golden hair long ago, as all mothers made for their sons until the consort of their choosing replaced that garment with one of her own.

“It’s not that.” Neistah grinned. “Although Lara has tried her hardest to convince me. I need something to do.”

“Go see your father,” his mother suggested. Instantly, Neistah’s good mood turned sour.

“Never mind,” he said, turning to dive under the water. “I’ll find something to do.”

The golden woman sighed, and went back to braiding leaves into her hair.

x x x x x x

Neistah loved being home, where he was among his own kind at last. He loved the warm sunlight and the cool green depths of the many lakes and rivers, he loved everything about it, except that he had nothing constructive to do. He found himself wandering farther and farther from his mother’s people, until the boundaries became fuzzy and the land began to lose its clarity.

“The way isn’t so easy to find anymore, is it?”

The violet-eyed man spoke from somewhere above him. He seemed to have a propensity for skulking in trees.

“Who says I’m looking for the way?” Neistah asked, refusing to give the man the courtesy of an address, as the man had not bothered to speak mind-to-mind with Neistah.

“Aren’t you?” The man jumped down. He was taller than Neistah, and slender to the point of gauntness. “I see how you walk these woods day after day. Do you miss that other world so much?”

“I wasn’t looking for a way back,” Neistah said. “I was just trying to find something interesting to do.”

“Interesting, like those human misfits you meddle with? You’re playing with fire, Neistah. Humans are not to be trusted. One of these days you’re going to be caught, and then what will you do?”

Neistah looked up quickly. Had his secret been found out? No, these were just guesses, cautionary tales. “Is that what happened to you?” he asked defensively.

“You know it is.”

Neistah did know. The great Valin, consort to the Queen, had in his youth been foolish enough to pass through to the mortal world where he had been caught, for a human lifetime, before he managed to escape and find his way back home. That was where he had gotten his famous scar, from an iron sword. He had slain the wielder, along with half his village, but he had won his freedom. All that had happened long before the current cataclysm that had all but destroyed that world and turned it once again into a vast wilderness. “You never felt the desire to return?”

Valin turned away disgustedly. “Never.”

That had not always been true of their people. Once, before when the ways opened more easily, they had often slipped through to frolic in the human woods. Humans were interesting because they were so unpredictable. For the last several centuries, however, the way through had become difficult, if not impossible. As humanity expanded, the forests shrunk proportionately, and with them, the few entry points between their two worlds. Until their big war destroyed most of their world, and what remained was slowly reclaimed by forest once again. Neistah was one of the first to cross over to the human world, to see what he could see. He wasn’t the only one, but he was the one Valin was concerned about.

“Well, that wasn’t what I was doing,” Neistah repeated. “I was looking for you, actually.”

“Oh?”

“Mother suggested it. I’m humoring her.”

Valin smiled, showing sharp teeth. He did not believe Neistah for a minute.

x x x x x x

John Hanan wrung his ands and waited for Jim to speak.

“It’s over.”

For a moment the world blurred, then John Hanan blinked, for there were important matters to resolve. “And the child?”

“Alive.”

Jim held up the baby, a girl. She had delicate webbing on her neck, her fingers, her toes. Her hair was a deep red. “She is to be called Norah. Miriam wanted it.”

The old man swallowed. “Miriam—is she--?”

Jim wrapped the child back in her blanket, ignoring her soft wail of protest. “She’s weak, but nothing that a little time won’t heal. She hasn’t seen the baby yet. Hasn’t seen the extent of the mutations.”

John Hanan glared at Jim at the mention of mutations. The baby was a Sprite’s child, in his eyes. Not a human mutation. Jim was beginning to wonder himself. It was extremely rare for offspring of mutants to exhibit the exact same mutations as their parents. Most mutants, thankfully, didn’t reproduce.

“We’ll cut the webbing off,” John Hanan decided. “Those are the most obvious signs. Without them, no one need ever know she’s not your child.”

Jim looked down at the sleeping baby in his arms and tried to see her with scientific eyes, but he couldn’t. “She is my child,” he murmured, pressing a kiss on her downy head.