The Werewolves Who Weren't

by T C Shelley

  Sam blushed.

  ‘And who are your friends, my ’andsome? An’ why do ’ee need to be back with ’em so much?’

  ‘They’re shifters. And they’re being held by an awful ’thrope. I need to save them. When they’re all free, they can go home and I can go home too. I want to see my family and my pack.’

  ‘That sounds like a wonderful collection of wants. How marvellous for you. Well, that definitely means you’re no fairy, but if you must find the nearest door, it’s right in the middle of Her Majesty’s glade an’ even that’s a long way off. You’ve completely commenced in the wrong place altogether. Now if you were in the middle-bit near the end of the path that leads to the roundabout, you could begin there. Here’s no place to start.’

  ‘But I’m nowhere else, I have to start here.’

  ‘Well, I s’pose we best get you to the middle-bit then.’

  ‘I’m grateful for any help,’ Sam said.

  ‘Of course y’are, my ’andsome.’ One-i’-the-Wood put on its hat and walked away. Sam struggled to get out of the bed and the twig person was a way off before he caught up. Fortunately, Sam had excellent hearing, and One-i’-the-Wood made cracking noises as it walked and chatted away to him, although Sam was in such a hurry to catch up, he wasn’t paying a lot of attention.

  Sam fell in beside One-i’-the-Wood, who continued talking. ‘… Of course, if it’s raspberries again I won’t mind.’ One looked at Sam. ‘I’m being most rudely presumptuous here, my dear. You are, well …’ It coughed. ‘If you’re not, I’m terribly sorry if this is an insult, although I’d be pleased as punch if someone was to ask me, but you are lookin’ to be one and, well I’ll just say it straight … are you human, my ’andsome?’

  ‘Mostly,’ Sam said.

  ‘Well, isn’t that wonderful? An absolute bit of luck. It explains all the wanting. I’ve got so many questions and … oh, my manners … I’m most profoundly delighted to meet you. I am forever your humble servant. I am thrilled. Absolutely thrilled. I have never yet met a human in solid form.’ One-i’-the-Wood clapped its twiggy hands and danced as if it’d won some great prize.

  Sam loved all his humans, he wished he truly was one, but he was entertained by how much meeting him cheered One-i’-the-Wood. He seemed as nice as the nicest humans Sam had met, but One was surrounded by all this beauty and the fairies too, who could do whatever they wanted. He wondered why One didn’t want to be a fairy. He said so.

  ‘Oh, but that’s the point; humans be, I hope I’m not being rude here, but humans be a mix-up of a lot of “yes” and “no”, an’ getting that balance is of great importance to me.’

  ‘A lot of “yes” and a lot of “no”?’

  ‘That’s right.’ One-i’-the-Wood nodded vigorously. ‘You understand me perfectly.’

  Sam had no idea what being a lot of ‘yes’ and ‘no’ meant at all, but he didn’t say so.

  ‘It’s all well n’ good being all “yes”, fairies survive it well enough,’ One-i’-the-Wood went on, ‘but as you know, it don’t suit the magic of the human heart. I’ve learned that, an’ I’m right interested in the ways humans work, as I am making myself into one. As you can see.’

  ‘You’re making yourself into a human?’

  ‘I am a self-made man.’ One-i’-the-Wood stretched out its arms to show him. ‘Obviously, the forest has provided the material: can’t make yerself out of nothing, can ’ee? But I did most of the work.’

  Sam studied One. Its right side appeared human-shaped, the branch jutting from One-i’-the-Wood’s shoulder had a knot and another where an elbow would be, hinged so it bent. The end of the branch had six ‘fingers’ all poking out straight ahead, one ending with a small yellow leaf. The leg was a sturdy log, also knotted at the knee and finishing with a flattened branch which did for a foot. The other leg was a single unbending stump and shorter than the right, so One-i’-the-Wood leaned. Its left arm was nothing more than a burned stick jutting at a sharp angle from its shoulder. Its body was of the same woven twigs as its head, and something had built a nest inside One’s tummy with bits of bark and leaves and patches of fur. One-i’-the-Wood pointed at it. ‘Look, I’ve recently found myself a heart. It’s off now, running about collecting nuts, I shouldn’t wonder, but at night, I keep it safe and dry, and it sleeps soundly.’

  Sam studied the animal nest, it looked messy. ‘Doesn’t it bounce around inside you?’

  ‘Of course it do, of course it do. But that’s what a heart does. It thumps around in yer innards because a heart is a wild animal? It gnaws me, and suffers me something sore, but I bear it all, because a good heart is a tender thing, and when it’s hurt and sad I nurse it until it’s better and can go roamin’ again, because you do that for your heart. I did consider havin’ a bird, as they do flutter and I heard hearts do like to go a-flutter sometimes, but I wanted a strong heart, not one so easily broken, and a squirrel seemed a better option. I want a bit of “no”, but not so much “no” that I couldn’t survive it.’

  Sam was sure the trees and flowers were all listening to this. They leaned in as One-i’-the-Wood stumped by them, and swayed back when it passed.

  A bird, small and brown, landed on One-i’-the-Wood’s head and pecked at the twig that did for its ear, and then its leafy eyebrow.

  ‘I don’t understand what you mean by a bit of “no”,’ Sam said.

  ‘Don’t ’ee?’ One-i’-the-Wood eyed Sam mildly. ‘I suppose ’ee be like a fish then, so much in the water you don’t see it. Or maybe cos I got nothin’ in my head just yet, an’ don’t make much sense.’ A lily raised itself to be sniffed and One-i’-the-Wood obliged. One turned to Sam and studied the boy’s face, blinked its raspberry eyes and screwed up its leaf mouth. ‘Thou know fairies be made from a laugh? It’s what makes them all “yes” from the beginning. You just hafta look at ’em to see they have so much “yes”. They are made beautiful, an’ anyone who looks at ’em wants to give ’em things; say “yes” to ’em, as it were. They have magic so they can go everywhere and have everything, and they never want for anything. I feel so sad for the poor blighters. It’s a rough existence.’

  ‘Getting everything you want? Isn’t that what everyone is aiming for?’ Sam said. ‘The monsters certainly do.’

  ‘What are monsters, my ’andsome?’

  ‘They’re all the creatures born from a last sigh. Right now, Queen Titania wants me to help her fight them. One of them, Maggie, has been stealing the magic from fairy wings.’

  ‘Well, that gives her something marvellous to want,’ One-i’-the Wood said.

  ‘Maggie?’

  ‘No, Queen Titania. It must be sheer delight for her.’

  ‘Oh, no, I think she’s very upset.’

  ‘Ah, but that’s at the surface, all bemoaning her poor fairies and their unfortunate situation, but underneath it all, she’ll have something to want. It reminds her that she cares for things so much she’ll fight for them. It will give her something to do, some purpose. Sometimes, when things are easy, a body can forget how much we love. An’ the queen’s had a lot of time to get too comfortable. She has “yes, yes, yes” till the cows come home and that’s why “no” is so good. Although, havin’ said that, it’s true any creature can be ruthless in war, so I’d stay out of her way, just in case. Her Majesty is powerful n’ all.’ One-i’-the-Wood picked up a fig that a tree had dropped. It patted the tree’s trunk. The tree sighed. ‘Now, tell me about these monsters. Are they beautiful?’

  Sam shook his head. ‘Mostly they’re ugly to very ugly, and want to be able to make people’s lives miserable, but there aren’t enough of them yet. They want to make more monsters very badly.’

  ‘Ah, well, it seems they don’t get anything they want,’ One-i’-the-Wood said.

  ‘No, I don’t think they do.’

  ‘Well, there you go. Too much “no” and too much “yes”. Both ends make a body miserable. Nothing to want. Everything to want.’

  ‘I think
I understand. If you get everything you wish, and if you get nothing you wish, then you’ll be unhappy either way, so you need a bit of both.’

  ‘Exactly what I’m saying. Which is why I want to be a human. I want to want – dreams, ambitions, goals. You can’t have those without wanting something that you don’t have yet.’

  ‘But it’s nice when you get it,’ Sam said.

  ‘Eventually. But a season of trying and planning and working – it does a body good. Makes life worth living.’

  Sam looked at the trees near the path. They veered forward, listening to One-i’-the-Wood. The path was full of more flowers than Sam had ever seen in one place, all vying for One’s attention.

  ‘Oh, you silly things. All right,’ One said, and scanned all the fabulous colours. It stooped towards a lovely vine of red roses encircling a fine-boned tree.

  One-i’-the-Wood bowed to the rose bush, and the rose bush bowed back.

  ‘All right, are ’ee?’ One-i’-the-Wood asked.

  The roses nodded.

  ‘Now, it came to mind this morning I might be right ’andsome with a bud. Would ’ee mind?’ One-i’-the-Wood asked.

  The rose bush swayed. Sam guessed that meant no.

  ‘I’m very obliged to ’ee,’ One said, and plucked a single red rosebud from the vine. The vine shivered happily.

  One-i’-the-Wood pulled off the daisy from the middle of its face and put the rosebud in its place. ‘What do ye think?’ it asked.

  Sam liked it. It did look more nose-like than the daisy.

  ‘I do make myself anew ev’ry day. Come on, Samuel Kavanagh. We have a way to go.’

  They walked further along, and One-i’-the-Wood squealed when it came across a green branch on the path. The creature danced and jigged and cried out, ‘Look ’ee, look ’ee, Samuel Kavanagh.’ Sam was horrified when with its right hand One pulled out its left arm and let it drop on the path and was relieved when the creature pushed the new branch into its place.

  ‘Look at tha’, look at tha’.’ One flexed its new arm, bending each of the fingers. ‘Three straight up and one that do for a thumb.’ It reached out and tweaked Sam’s nose. ‘I couldna done tha’ this mornin’. I feel sap running through me now. Thank ’ee, trees,’ the twig person said, and patted the nearest trunk.

  One-i’-the-Wood seemed to bounce a little more. A bramble bush covered in berries swayed into the path.

  ‘Here’s for me,’ One-i’-the-Wood said, and waved its new, green arm over the dancing bramble bush. ‘Two for my eyes.’

  Sam was not so horrified this time when One-i’-the-Wood plucked out its eyes. ‘Oh, that was silly of me. I cannot see. Samuel Kavanagh, would ’ee be ever so kind, and pluck me a coupla right juicy ones?’

  Sam found a pair of nice berries. He held them up together making sure they were similar in size and shape and then popped them on One-i’-the-Wood’s face. As soon as they stuck, they blinked and lifted in a happy smile.

  One-i’-the-Wood bowed to the bush. The bush shivered happily.

  Sam studied the berries, they looked so plump and ripe.

  One-i’-the-Wood grabbed Sam with its new wooden hand. ‘Don’ eat nothin’ in Faeryland, unless you want to stay forever.’ He released Sam. ‘Or ye could stay here with us. The woods like ’ee very much, an’ ye’d never be short of fairy food.’

  Sam looked around at the shaking, swaying, moving plants. ‘And I like them all too, but my friends need me, and I miss my family.’

  ‘Oh, such good wantings, such lovely yearnings, a body could fill up with desire like that. An’ a family, what a thing to want. I don’t have a family.’ One frowned and put its twiggy hand on its woody chin and peered at Sam. ‘Do I want one? What’s good about them?’

  ‘They love you, they look after you, they help you find your dreams.’ Sam nodded. He had to remember that: no fairy food would be as wonderful as home.

  ‘Oh my, that do sound lovely. Maybe I should make myself a family,’ One said. ‘I saw a few willow branches back there. I could weave a sweet little me. Maybe I could become One-of-Two-i’-the-Wood. And we could converse the way I do with ’ee. That’d be very nice. Then we could go and find some dreams together. I’m thinking a pair of finches. I should have more than one dream fluttering around in there.’ One poked a twig finger inside its head and bowed. ‘I be very happy to have met ’ee, Samuel Kavanagh. I’ve learned so many things. I learned more about humans than I dared to want, and I discovered monsters.’ One looked along the path. ‘It’s not far now.’

  The wood parted, opening to a meadow. A few steps more and Sam was out in a clearing staring at a bright, painted carousel.

  It was painted blue and red and gold and gleamed in the beaming sun as it played a lullaby, but there was nothing else around. No swings, no tents. It wasn’t a fair. It was a colourful merry-go-round all by itself in the middle of a field.

  ‘The roundabout.’ One smiled at Sam and held his hand, leading Sam towards it. ‘It’s the middle, but if a body travels on it, it’ll take you to her glade. Now, Samuel Kavanagh, please let me remind you not to eat any fairy food. If you must be with them, be careful. They are dangerous, not because they intend to be cruel, but because others mean little to them.’

  ‘Monsters aren’t any better,’ Sam said.

  One squeezed up its berry eyes and turned its head. In the open space, Sam could see sunlight through it.

  The carousel’s rides were unicorns and dragons, rainbow-coloured fish and large silver birds. Sam looked at each. A unicorn looked back at him.

  Sam climbed on the carousel and moved to the shining, grey unicorn, grabbing its pole. One-i’-the-Wood ran alongside him. The twig person’s voice carried back to him. ‘I should also warn ’ee, thou probably don’ want …’

  The carousel turned, and One-i’-the-Wood was gone.

  Sam stood on the grass in the glade again. A flock of fairies filled the space, but Edgar and the queen were nowhere in sight.

  CHAPTER 20

  A swarm of fairies rushed forward, their little voices pouring over him.

  ‘You came back.’

  ‘Have a nice rest in your bower.’

  ‘Would you like tea?’

  ‘Would you like nectar?’

  ‘Would you like to dance?’

  Sam wanted none of those things. He wanted to get back to Wilfred, Hazel, Amira and their families and let them out of the cellar. His mind was clear again and he remembered that Queen Titania had him here to convince him that taking his friends’ souls was all right. She wanted him to deliver the orb full of shifter souls to The Hole. He understood Faeryland was worth protecting, but there had to be a better way.

  ‘Well, what do you want?’ asked a woman-sized fairy in a red velvet dress. ‘We can give it to you straight away.’

  ‘I want to go home,’ Sam replied. ‘I’ve been told there’s a door I can use.’

  ‘No,’ crowed the fairies, and created a cloud around him. He was blinded by petals, gauzy clothes and tiny, flapping wings.

  ‘We can’t let you use that,’ the red-velvet fairy said.

  Sam couldn’t speak; every time he tried to say something a blossom or a leaf stopped his words and he spat them out to avoid eating anything. Then he realised it was safer to keep his mouth shut. His stomach complained, it was not liking the lack of food.

  ‘Take him to the bower,’ said the red-velvet fairy.

  Sam was lifted by the throng of tiny creatures and placed into a woven shell high up in a tree branch.

  ‘Now, don’t go falling out, will you?’ the red-velvet fairy said. ‘You can wait for our queen to return, an’ she’ll have words with you. She won’t be so unhappy if you have a slice of cake.’

  A creamy fairy floated next to his bower, offering him a delicious slice of something.

  ‘No, thanks,’ he said, although his stomach was saying ‘Yes, please’. He had to get out before he needed to choose between starving or being bewitched.
>
  The fairies resumed their places. Some danced, some slept, and some made daisy chains and crowned the red-velvet lady.

  Sam guessed they had put him in the high tree thinking it was impossible for him to leave, but if he climbed down without them noticing, he could escape and maybe find the door.

  Unfortunately, while some fairies slept, others played, and there was no point climbing out while at least one fairy was peering up at the bower. They waved whenever they saw Sam’s face.

  He lay down, his tummy grumbled, and his often-useful sense of smell was telling him all about the food around him for miles. Sausages to the west, home-baked biscuits to the north; from the east, a medley of fruits like angels would eat (if they ate fruit; Daniel said angels weren’t big eaters). To the south, all he could smell was the sea, which was some relief.

  Sam was stirred from his thoughts by rustling and the gasps of fairy folk. He peered out of his bower. All of them sat watching a swishing hedge. It swayed left, it swayed right, and threw flowers at them. They laughed at its dance. Those awake roused the sleepers so the dancing hedge had a great audience. Sam took his chance. He stood in the bower, not a fairy looked at him, and he stretched for the tree, intending to climb.

  For the second time that day, a tree reached for him. It plucked him in its branches and placed Sam gently behind itself out of the sight of the fairies, then went back to standing straight and still as if it had never moved. It took a lot less time than if Sam had had to climb down.

  ‘Psst,’ said a bush.

  There’d been plenty of moving plants in One-i’-the-Wood’s forest, but none had ‘Psst’ at him.

  One-i’-the-Wood stuck its sticky head out between the leaves. ‘Come on, this way.’ It grabbed Sam’s hand and pulled him through the bush. The bush moved aside a little so Sam didn’t get scratched.

  ‘Thank you,’ Sam said. The bush bowed.

  ‘I s’pose you told ’em your plan to find the door, did ’ee?’

  Sam nodded, feeling silly for having done it. ‘I thought they might tell me where it was.’

  ‘If the queen wants ’ee here, they’re not likely to let ’ee go easy. Anyway, don’ blush, it’s my fault, I warned ’ee too late. I came after to see if you were about or if you’d got through, and when I saw your noggin lookin’ out over the nest they made for ’ee, I knew ye’d been a bit more mouthy than ’ee should.’