Sprite

During the times when Miriam was not with him, Neistah explored every aspect of his underwater domain. The pond itself was deep, but small. He barely had room to maneuver, and could not swim as fast as he preferred unless he took the narrow, underground opening that eventually led to the river beyond the chain link fence. Neistah sighed with relief whenever he passed that man-made boundary.

On the other side, he searched for signs of his people, both above and below water. He was careful not to be seen. No tricks on unsuspecting humans for a while, not that there were many to be found in this broad expanse of forest. After Hanan’s property ended, the forest stretched on for hundreds of miles before the first human cities became visible.

Neistah made sure not to stay away too long. He had watchers, and not only the one the old man sanctioned. Bill and Dave sniffed around the pond after the girl and her guardian left, but always before it got too dark. They were afraid to get too close to the Sprite after dark. Neistah thought about killing them. He could drag their lifeless bodies through the underground passage and leave them floating in the river miles from here. He didn’t do it because of something he had caught from their garbled thoughts: there were other hunters in those woods. Somehow, Dave and Bill had kept in contact with those other hunters. If Neistah killed them now, the hunters would come looking for him. He had to face it—the secret of his existence had been leaked to the outside world despite John Hanan’s—and his own—best efforts.

Miriam slapped the surface of the water with her palm, her way of getting his attention. Neistah grimaced in annoyance. It got his attention, all right. The sound echoed throughout the small pond, scaring the fish so that they scattered away from the sound. Neistah knew if he did not immediately surface, she would continue to slap the water, creating not only sounds, but waves of disruption, until he appeared. It made him seem as though he was obeying her, and he didn’t like that. Miriam needed another lesson on who was controlling whom.

Neistah shot out of the water so close to Miriam that she fell back, startled. He shook water all over her and leaned down, smiling with his sharp teeth. It was not a nice smile. “Do you want me?”

Simple words, but they made Miriam blush before she slid backwards on the grass, putting a little distance between them. Instead of her usual full skirt, she wore a pair of boy’s riding pants, and a long-sleeved blouse. She carried a basket with more sandwiches for the two of them to share, and for a change, her red hair was loose and pinned back only on one side with a bright red flower. Neistah’s eyes were drawn to the flower.

“Where did you find that?” he asked, leaning even closer to touch the flower. It wasn’t a rose; it wasn’t any flower that grew in these woods. It was too red, too perfect.

Miriam tilted her head. “Do you like it?”

“Where did you get it?” Neistah’s voice hardened. He snatched the flower out of Miriam’s hair, making her gasp, and brought it to his nose, inhaling its delicate fragrance, a fragrance he had almost forgotten. He crushed the petals in his hands, grinding his teeth together in frustration. “Where?”

Miriam’s eyes widened. “I don’t know. There was a vase full of them in the foyer. I picked one out of it on my way here this morning. I thought it looked pretty.”

“A vase full of them? More than one?” Neistah abruptly straightened up and began pacing up and down the small expanse of shore that marked his pond. That wasn’t possible. Those flowers were solitary. They marked the way . . . . “Have any strangers been to the house lately?” he asked.

Hidden in the woods, pencil poised above notebook, Jim came to attention as he noted the Sprite’s agitated pacing. Neistah glanced once at the spot where Jim thought he observed them in secrecy, and Jim immediately relaxed, going back to taking notes. ’The Sprite sits obediently by the side of his mistress for short periods before going back into the water to re-hydrate. He often accepts food from her hands, a sign that she has gained his trust.” Jim accompanied his observation with a quick sketch, which had little to do with the reality in front of him.

Miriam shook her head. “No, Papa doesn’t allow visitors, you know, because of you. The only one who came lately is the man with the supply wagon, and that was last week.”

“Where do your flowers usually come from?” Neistah asked.

Miriam shrugged. “I don’t know. I never paid attention. Why?” Suddenly bored with the inquisition regarding her flower, which now sat, mangled and discarded, by the Sprite’s feet, she pouted. “I don’t see what the fuss is. There are plenty of flowers in the woods if you want some.” She smoothed her long hair over the spot where Neistah had unceremoniously removed her pretty flower. “I don’t see why you had to take mine,” she complained half-heartedly.

“Come on.” Neistah pulled her to her feet. “I want to go for a walk.”

“Now? I just got here!” Miriam glanced meaningfully at her full basket of sandwiches.

Neistah didn’t bother answering, but he held her hand lightly in his own and started walking. Miriam came along without protest. Since Neistah had taken up residence in this pond out of sight of the main house, Miriam hadn’t used the leash and collar on him. His hand was the lead, and she had no choice but to follow where he would go.

Jim, busy taking notes, never noticed when they left the pond.

“Where are the flowers?” Neistah asked, after they had walked for several minutes.

Miriam still pouted, though she walked along willingly beside the Sprite. “You have to look,” she said grumpily, and Neistah nearly laughed out loud. That’s all he had been doing was looking.

“Show me,” he said softly.

“There.” Miriam pointed to a little white flower which peeked out from under a rock. “If you look near the old stones, sometimes there are flowers. Papa says that’s because long ago, people used to plant them by fences, and these stones are all that are left of the old fences.”

Neistah stooped down to cup the little white flower in his hand. The webbing still left him great flexibility and his fingertips were free to caress the tiny blossoms without tearing them. He left the flower where it grew, and stood. “Tell me more about these stone fences,” he said.

“Papa said that farmers once used these stones to mark out their fields,” Miriam said. “But now they’re mostly overgrown or falling apart and hard to find.”

Neistah peered through the trees, trying to follow the line of the ancient stone fences with his eye, but the vague piles of rocks kept disappearing, overgrown indeed as the forest took over those old farmer’s fields. It was a way, a very old way, and almost lost due to the ravages of time. Ironic, that the same ravages of time that had brought his people forth had also nearly robbed him of a way to return to them. “They must have criss-crossed this whole forest at one time,” he commented, feeling lighter than he had in a long time. He’d only had to look, as Miriam had pointed out.

Grinning suddenly, Neistah swept Miriam off her feet into a circle as he danced around the little white flower. It wasn’t his flower, but thanks to Miriam, it had also shown him the way. “Thank you, Miriam. You have made me very happy today.”

Miriam smiled, too, happy because Neistah was happy. “Don’t you want to find some more flowers?”

“Another day, perhaps. Not today.” Neistah danced a little more, then set Miriam down. “Today, I want to swim.”

“You always want to swim,” Miriam said, but her eyes were sparkling. She pulled her blouse out of the waistband of her boy’s pants, revealing her swimming outfit underneath. “I told you last time I would go swimming with you. Will you teach me how to swim like you do?”

“Oh, now you’re asking?” Neistah, still jubilant about his discovery, spoke teasingly. He gave her a little kiss on the cheek, and laughed as she reddened. “Come with me and I’ll show you things you’ve never seen before!” He dragged her along behind him, amused as her not-so-innocent thoughts put meanings to his words. She wasn’t that far off.

Neistah gave a low laugh, and continued on without her to the water, where he disappeared before Miriam could register that he was gone.

She hurried after him and shed her outer clothes on the grass by the abandoned picnic basket. The water dropped off immediately as soon as she stepped off the grassy bank. With a soft hiss of surprise, Miriam sank up to her waist in the mucky water, stirring up sediment from the bottom. She had forgotten how cold this pond was!

She felt something brush against her ankle and she gave a little scream. Neistah’s face floated up to her, laughing, mocking. He held her eyes as his hands found hers. “You have to go deeper,” he whispered. “Let your body float. I’ve got you.”

For the first few minutes, Miriam let herself be towed out to the center of the pond. Neistah was very gentle, keeping her head and his above water as he soothed her with his eyes.

“Now, go under.”

With that Neistah let go and disappeared under the water. Miriam flailed about on the surface, trying to see where he went. She opened her mouth to call for him when a sharp tug on her ankle pulled her under. Quickly, she closed her mouth.

Neistah circled her, looking eerily like a big fish as his body undulated around her. His arms never moved from his sides, and Miriam noticed how his webbed fingers caught the water and steered his movements with apparently no exertion on his part. He didn’t kick his legs, either. They stayed tight together as well, making his strange golden swimming trunks look like fish scales. The delicate fins on his ankles served the same directional function as the webs between his fingers.

Miriam relaxed, holding her body still like his, arms and legs together. Neistah smiled as she helplessly began to turn in the water and rise to the surface. He nudged her to get her back on track. “Move,” he mouthed to her, trailing little bubbles from his lips.

But by that time, Miriam had used up her meager supply of air. She abandoned her fishlike pose in favor of striking out for the surface and precious air. She treaded water as she gulped several breaths.

Neistah followed her up to the surface. “It’s not as easy as it looks,” he said with a smile. “Let yourself go. I’ll hold you.”

Miriam bit her lip. “I’ll try,” she said, taking a deep breath and letting her body go limp.

Neistah chuckled, positioning his body under hers and placing his arms gently around her torso, pinning her in place. They floated like that on the surface so Miriam could get used to the feeling of being motionless. Then, with a quick, cautionary, “Breathe!” Neistah plunged below the water, carrying Miriam with him. A few feet beneath the surface, he stilled them both again, and Miriam was able to experience Neistah’s underwater world without sinking or rising inexorably to the surface.

“Oh!” Water burbled as Miriam cried out in wonder. Her need for breath made her start to panic, and she squirmed in Neistah’s arms.

Neistah deftly twisted ’round, and like last time, he fastened his lips on Miriam’s. Slowly she calmed down. Neistah grinned with his mouth still tight on hers. He could hear her frantic thoughts. ‘This isn’t a kiss. It’s not really a kiss. It’s just so I can breathe,’ In her mind, Miriam repeated the words over and over like a litany of prayer.

Neistah started moving, slowly at first, but then faster and faster with Miriam in his arms, fastened at lips and chest. When she began to shiver with cold he arrowed for the surface, leaving her to climb out of the pond on her own while he watched from the water.

The watcher in the trees had realized something was amiss. While Neistah’s concentration was distracted by Miriam, his hold over Jim had lapsed. Their watcher now stood at the treeline scanning the pond for the two of them. How long had he been there?

Neistah didn’t care if Jim caught on to his game. He could leave at any time now. But Neistah didn’t want to leave just yet.

Slick with water, Neistah climbed out to sit beside Miriam. He accepted her offered sandwich and waited to see what the former hunter, now jailer, would do.

Nothing. The man did nothing but hedge and worry at the edge of the forest, and think about old man Hanan’s directive not to interfere unless there were clear signs of danger. Neistah grinned. There was nothing clear about what he planned. He took another sandwich and leaned back on the blanket, letting the warmth of the sun dry him off.

Later that afternoon, after Jim had taken Miriam back to the house, Neistah scanned the area with both his eyes and his mind. When he was satisfied that he was alone, he went out into the woods, following the same path he and Miriam had followed earlier in the day. The stone wall was barely visible, but once he knew what to look for, he could follow its ancient track through the underbrush. In places, it was gone completely. Trees had sprouted up and displaced the stones. Even so, Neistah was able to pick up the path again.

He was looking for a particular flower, a red flower. Now that he had found the stone fences, he had another link to home. If he could find the flower that marked the way, he might have a chance at returning. What his welcome would be if he managed it, he could not say. His mother had been quite clear the last time he left: meddle in the outside world, and do not expect to come back to this one.

She couldn’t have really meant it, though.