Sprite

“What did you do to my grandfather?” Norah caught up to Neistah, leaving Breyan and Pup behind.

Neistah didn’t halt his steps, but he did shoot Norah an appraising glance. “Do you really want to know?”

Did she? Maybe it would be better if she didn’t. “Yes,” she replied, making up her mind. Neistah grinned.

“He thinks he’s one of us,” Neistah said smugly. “When we left him, he was trying to cut the webbing off his hands.”

“But he doesn’t have any—“

“I know.” Neistah laughed, then stopped abruptly. “It won’t last. Sooner or later the compulsion will wear off and he’ll be back to his old sweet self.” Neistah’s tone dripped with mockery. “But in the meantime, he will believe he has the fins and webbing of a sprite.”

“Nobody else will see what he sees?”

“There’s nothing to see. It’s all in his head.” Neistah tapped his, and strolled on, laughing softly.

“But what if he tries to swim? If he really thinks he is a sprite, then he might feel the urge to swim, and when he does—“

Neistah’s smile was vicious. “He might drown—and none of us would have laid a finger on him.”

Disturbed, Norah had no reply. Breyan took part in this, too, she reminded herself.

Neistah, ever the instigator, sent back, ‘It was Breyan’s idea.’

Norah glanced back to where Breyan walked with Pup. The two of them were still talking, occasionally shooting questions back at Adam, who followed along behind them. Did she really know Breyan after all?

She caught up to Neistah again. Neistah, who could have been Breyan’s twin with the honey brown trunks they both wore. “What does it mean, really, that you now wear Lara’s weave?”

Neistah draped an arm over his daughter’s shoulder and pulled her along with him. “I’m far older than you. So is Breyan. Neither one of us has chosen one single woman until now. It means Lara is my heart’s desire.” He raised an eyebrow at her. “Don’t let Breyan or anyone else push you into something you’re not ready for.”

“How did you know you were ready?”

Neistah’s self-assured grin slipped for an instant. “When I couldn’t bear the thought of losing her.” He frowned. “We’re not like you, Norah. We give our favors where we will, even now. But Lara has my heart. That’s all it means. You’re far too young to understand.”

Neistah moved a little distance away, lost in his own thoughts, leaving Norah to hers. He was right. She didn’t understand.

Breyan caught up to her, giving her a quick peck on the cheek. ‘There’s nothing to understand,’ he sent, proving that he had been aware of their conversation the whole time and knew why she was asking those questions. Norah’s face reddened. ‘I can wait,’ he assured her, his eyes twinkling. ‘Besides, I like Pup.’

If anything, Norah’s face became redder.

‘Stop teasing her,’ Neistah sent back.

They reached the end of the farmland, where the woods took over between one step and the next. Amazingly, they had encountered very few humans along the way, and the ones they had seen had been supportive rather than hostile. Now, as they prepared to enter the forest, a group of farmers raced towards them from the fields at the edge of the forest.

“Datro’s Sprite! Datro’s Sprite!” More than one voice shouted out.

Neistah, Breyan and Pup turned, forming a solid line in front of Norah and her brother. They stood calmly, but tension radiated from their shoulders as they watched the runners approach. A few steps, and they could be within the forest proper. The farmers would not follow them there. Norah wondered why they were waiting.

The farmers stopped a good ten yards away from the sprites. From here, Norah could see the grins on some of their faces. Friendly, then. Not enemies.

“We wanted to wish you good luck,” one of the farmers said. “We’ve lost too many of our sons and daughters to the forest in recent years. We don’t care if they are mutants. You can let them know that.”

Pup stepped forward. “And what of Datro? What would they say?”

The farmer who had been speaking for their group jutted out his chin. “We’ll worry about Datro. Half Datro’s soldiers are our sons too. They will listen to us.”

Neistah nodded thoughtfully to himself, but he let Pup handle the humans. It was only right. Pup motioned for Adam to join him, and the two bent their heads in discussion with the farmers while Neistah, Breyan and Norah waited patiently. Pup made arrangements for more than just a safe path to send mutants into the forest; he obtained promises of fruits and vegetables and even meat from the farmers in return for Datro’s Sprite’s favor.

X x X x X x X x X x X

Norah hadn’t thought she would be so glad to enter the cool depths of the forest. It was almost, not quite, but almost as good as entering the water. The forest was truly a different world. Her grandfather’s glaring attempts at civilizing the forest by tearing down trees to build roads hadn’t touched the essence of it yet. If Norah could choose, it never would.

‘You can.’ Breyan’s sub-voice gently intruded. ‘If you hold the land, you can.’

Norah blinked at him. When had Breyan come beside her again? And where was Neistah? She spotted her sprite father with Adam a little way up the path. They were talking earnestly—or Adam was. Neistah appeared to be struggling not to smile. And Pup?

‘Gone to scout ahead,’ Breyan told her, uncomfortably close. He took a step back as her thoughts rose unbidden to the surface, easy enough for a sprite such as he to read. His eyes registered hurt, but whether it was real or not—‘Of course it’s real!’ Breyan protested, spoiling it with a mischievous smile.

Norah relaxed against him, disarmed as always by Breyan’s easy charm. How was being here with Breyan any different than spending time with him in faerie? Was it because she was finally seeing the other side of him, the trickster side? Or was it because Pup was here, too?

“What does it mean to hold the land? Rellan said it, too.” And what did it mean that Norah could prevent her grandfather from making roads?

‘Not precisely that.’ Breyan answered her unspoken question first. ‘If you hold the land you anchor it between the mortal world and faerie. That means you imbue it with some of the qualities of faerie. The boundaries between are more fluid, and our people can cross over safely to the mortal realm. To do that, you must have Anais’ blood—which you do—and her blessing. I’m starting to believe you have that as well.’

Neistah drifted over to them, having apparently acquiesced to Adam’s impassioned plea. The boy was gone, trailing after Pup. His shirt, shoes, and the bottom half of his trousers remained behind. ‘He’s safe enough,’ Neistah told them in response to Norah’s worried expression. ‘I told him he could be a Sprite.’

Norah still was not used to speaking mind to mind except when she was underwater and it was more of a necessity than a convenience. She understood, however, that it was a point of etiquette among sprites that their thoughts remain open and not hidden, as was possible with speech. ‘Then I’ll defer to your judgment,’ she sent, smiling.

It was just the three of them now. Norah didn’t even have to frame her next thought. ‘Over to the right, about a half-mile,’ Neistah sent, and they headed in that direction. Pup knew enough to leave markers for Neistah. They would all meet up again before dark. Norah was pleased she was able to catch the gist of that from Neistah’s mind.

She shed her faerie gown at the edge of the lake Neistah had sensed, and readily took Breyan’s hand as she stepped into the grey-black water. Being with him here, in their world, seemed so natural, so right. Breyan’s amusement wrapped around her mind.

Neistah nudged him away from Norah, and Breyan let himself be nudged. Still broadcasting amusement, he shot across the pond, reveling in the feel of the water after so much walking through the dusty mortal world. Neistah shot after him, and the two mock-battled under the still surface of the lake while Norah, swimming staidly a fair distance away, watched, bemused and slightly bereft at Breyan’s abandonment.

What did she really want? Norah needed the water no less than any of the other sprites. She felt drawn to Breyan, and to faerie. She didn’t understand what Breyan or Rellan meant about her holding the land---

Norah’s musings cut off suddenly as Neistah’s face appeared inches from her own, intense and angry. ‘Rellan?’ he queried tersely. Breyan appeared seconds later next to him and swam cautiously around them both.

‘Norah met Rellan on her own in the forest,’ Breyan sent. ‘She summoned me right after. He didn’t hurt her.’

Neistah scowled at Breyan as the other sprite continued to circle around them. ’You don’t know that. Rellan bears our line ill will.’

‘Not Anais,’ Breyan returned. ‘Rellan likes Anais well enough. He asked Norah if she held the land.’

‘What!’ Neistah’s eyes swiveled back to focus on Norah. He frowned. ‘Do you?’ he asked after a moment, tiliting his head to one side as he considered her. ‘Has Anais perhaps---no, not yet, but someday, if you will it.’ Suddenly Neistah broke into a grin. ‘Good. I never wanted it, anyway.’ He streaked away, leaving Breyan still circling around Norah as she stared after her father, still not understanding what any of them were talking about.

’Why is Rellan a bright fae? And what does that make us?’ Norah asked, beginning to swim forward. Breyan matched her pace, swimming alongside her now. They could just see Neistah at the far end of the lake, swimming violently from one side to another. Every now and then he would dive, then resume his frenzied pattern. Norah realized he was catching, and eating, fish. Her stomach growled.

Breyan laughed, sending up bubbles, and veered off to fish without answering her question. Norah followed him. ‘Ask Neistah,’ he sent. ‘Better yet, ask Anais.’

Norah stopped swimming and Breyan shot ahead. He darted down, and returned with a silver fish which he presented with a flourish to Norah. She took it, frowning at him, and delicately bit into it. The fish was delicious. ‘Why won’t you tell me?’

‘It’s not so much that Rellan is bright as that we are not,’ Breyan sent, subdued. ‘We enjoy our pleasures; we are not unlike mortals in that respect. Else we could not enjoy their company so much.’ Breyan’s eyes twinkled, his earlier somberness forgotten. He dove briefly to get another fish for himself.

‘But who is Rellan? Are there other types of fae besides bright and---what are we then?’

‘Dark. Bright and dark. And there are many, many kinds of dark fae.’ Breyan finished his fish and dove for another. When he returned, he handed one more to Norah and quickly ate a second himself. ‘Your friend Pup could be one, if he was one of us. He has the look. A lot of the mutants do.’

Norah stared at him, astonished.

‘Why do you call them changelings?’ Breyan challenged softly. ‘They look like the legends your kind have of the darker fae. The name is apt.’

‘But they’re not dark. You’re not dark.’

‘Am I not?’ Breyan’s chuckle, heard inside her head, sent chills down Norah’s arms. Breyan wasn’t dark; he was just mischievous, wasn’t he?

Neistah swam between them, the waves of his passing pushing them apart. ‘Leave her be,’ he said to Breyan. ‘We are no more dark than the mortals are.’

‘But who is Rellan?’ Norah persisted.

Neistah caught her arms, holding her in place. He stared into her eyes. ‘Rellan is my uncle,’ he said bitterly. ‘Brother to Valin, almost-father to me. It was always a bitter disappointment to Rellan that Anais acknowledged Valin as the father to her son.’

‘Valin and Rellan are brothers?’ As incredible as it sounded, it explained why Norah had sensed Rellan and thought it was Valin at first. They were both unusually tall, and both had disturbing eyes that pulsated with more than one color. But Rellan wasn’t a sprite!

‘Different mothers,’ Neistah replied succinctly. ‘Their father was one of the bright fae. When they were younger, both brothers went adventuring and both found Anais, who is one of the dark fae though she is brightest among us. She loved them both but chose Valin.’

That explained the bitterness on both sides.

Neistah shook his head, his long hair moving back and forth under the water. ‘Don’t think Rellan is like us,’ he cautioned. ‘He is powerful, dangerous, and unpredictable. Stay away from him. Valin would tell you the same.’

Norah couldn’t help wondering if Anais would tell her the same also. Neistah glared at her without responding to her transparent thought, and arrowed up out of the lake to land on shore. “It’s getting late,” he called out loud.

Breyan and Norah flew up out of the lake, too. As Norah squeezed water from her hair and donned her faerie gown, she glanced at Neistah. ‘I’ll stay away from him,’ she sent, wanting him to know she meant it.

They met Pup and Adam at the campsite Pup had set up for them. “I’ve made contact with one of my Sprites, and he’s gone on ahead to let your father know,” Pup glanced at Norah, “that Adam is safe and we’re on our way back.”

“That’s good,” Norah murmured. Adam poked at the small fire they had set, squatting down to roast a small squirrel spitted on a stick. There were several of the things ranged around the campfire. Norah’s stomach flip-flopped, and she was glad she had eaten the fish earlier. Neither Breyan nor Neistah seemed to be bothered by it, and eagerly took a stick for themselves.

“Grandfather told me why he was burning down the trees,” Adam volunteered, between bites. “It’s so the people from Datro won’t be so afraid of the forest anymore.”

“Do you believe that?” Norah asked slowly.

Adam shook his head. “Not really. The people from Datro come here to the forest to get away from Datro. They’re not afraid of it. It’s people like Grandfather, who don’t know the forest the way we do, who are afraid of it.”

It didn’t matter to Adam that the people from Datro who escaped into the forest were mutants. He saw them as people. Norah smiled.

In the morning, Jim’s patrol met up with them. Mack, his face still purpled with bruises, clasped Adam in a bear hug. He didn’t even comment on Adam’s lack of dress. Jim hugged his son, then hugged Norah, too. “Thank you, thank you,” he said to all of them. His eyes dragged on Breyan for a second, and curious thoughts rushed around his head but he didn’t say anything about the new sprite. “Let’s go home.”

Breyan hung back until Norah noticed he was lagging farther and farther behind. ‘What’s wrong?’ she asked, waiting until he caught up with her. The rest of the group continued on, including Pup, who glanced back once then kept on walking.

“I have to go back,” Breyan said aloud. “But if ever you need me, you only have to call.” His eyes lingered significantly on Norah’s ruby pendant.

“But why?” Norah asked in dismay. “I thought you were staying.”

Breyan shook his head. “I had fun, and anywhere that you are is always where I prefer to be, but. . . .” He smiled ruefully. “I don’t belong here.”

“Yes, you do! You said, you said the dark fae could play here. You said so!”

Breyan’s lips quirked. “Ah, so you don’t mind if I’m dark as long as it suits your desires? I like that! No, my love, it’s not fair for me to be here with you, in your world. You must make your own choices in your own time. I will always come to you when you need me, and perhaps you will come to visit me in faerie one day soon. I’ll wait for you there. I’ll always wait for you.” He kissed her swiftly and deeply before letting her go. When he stepped away, she lost sight of him almost immediately.

She wanted to cry but the tears wouldn’t come.

“Norah?”

When she looked up, Pup was waiting for her. He held out a hand, sympathy clear on his face. Norah reached out and took his hand.