by A V Awenna
A Pinch of Moonlight
copyright 2015 A V Awenna
License Notes
Table of contents
Chapter 1. Three Girls Turning…
Chapter 2. About Your Great-Great-Grandmother…
Chapter 3. Everything You Didn’t Believe is True
Chapter 4 ‘Rabbit, Chicken, English, Fortune-telling…’
Chapter 5. Secrets Freely Given
Chapter 6. Techno-Fairy
Chapter 7. An Appropriate Oak
Chapter 8. A Spell From a Smell
Chapter 9. Missing and Wishing
Chapter 10. Demi-Lee Gets Charming
Chapter 11. Reunion
Chapter 12. Blackbird Swallows his Fire
Chapter 13. A Damaged Man
Chapter 14. Deception and Defiance
Chapter 15. Meanwhile, Back in the Real World…
Chapter 16. A Kindred Spirit
Chapter 17. Giraffalumps and Angels
Chapter 18. A New Dawn
Chapter 19. Walking the Walk
Chapter 20. Dahzen in action
Chapter 21. Everything’s Going to be Fine…
About A V Awenna
Connect with A V Awenna
Part 1: Terra
Chapter 1. Three Girls Turning…
A full moon, 21st June, near midnight
On the edge of Cardiff in the human world
Heart pounding, gasping for breath, Blackbird swung himself up into the safety of his refuge. No major injuries; just bruised and shaken. But when the attack had come, without warning, pinning him to the ground and knocking all the breath from him, it had felt like the end – just when he had found the one who could save him.
To think he used to like cats – now barely a day went by without one of the vicious beasts trying to kill him just for the fun of it. At least these little pets were lazy cowards at heart, who soon turned tail when he yelled and fought back.
Maybe wearing a dead blackbird’s skin wasn’t the wisest disguise – but it had been so cold back in March when he’d found it, and at least the feathers kept him warm and dry. He remembered that day, early in his exile, when he’d found two young rats squabbling over the bird’s fresh body. Outraged to see one of his namesakes so disrespected, he’d driven away the beasts with stones, then hauled the skin onto his back, intending to take it for a decent burial. But the birdskin gave him warmth, shelter, and a valuable disguise, and half-mad with cold and hunger as he was he decided to keep it – to become it. And as well as a disguise against any humans he might meet, the wings allowed him to glide short distances. It was nothing like the glory of real flight, but until he got his own wings back...
He heard the rustle of the greenery as the cat walked away. As a full sized man he’d have petted it on his lap, enjoying its soft fur and gentle purring. Now he despised all of them. On the rare occasions he succumbed to sleep, he made sure it was in full daylight and only somewhere cats couldn’t reach him. He’d become nocturnal by default, soon learning the times of day when dangers were minimal and he could raid gardens for whatever food he could find. His people had always had good night-vision, seeing easier by the soft light of the moon than the sun’s harsh glare. And they could shape-shift and survive in a number of sizes and guises. If he could shape-shift back to full-sized... but how, with no magic? He brooded, until moonlight shining into his refuge reminded him of that night’s task.
He hauled his aching body from a gap in the masonry into bright silvery light, and clambered up to the top of the broken wall. This was definitely the place – the ruined tower overlooking the modern city; the hillside sweeping down to the sea. The city had grown right up to the edge of the tower’s motte – he could easily glide into the nearest garden from here. Beyond, on the opposite side of the road, was the house where Demali slept. Was it late enough yet? Beyond the city, with its glass towers and ancient stone castle, two small islands waited in the wide channel. The moon was almost between them – near midnight then. Late enough to make the final life-or-death journey, and seek Demali’s assistance.
For three whole months he’d lived from moment to moment, mouthful to mouthful, until earlier that day when three girls had walked past, none of them noticing him, but one of them whistling a tune he hadn’t heard for years. Demali! Sweet little Demi, grown from child to woman in the years since he’d seen her, but her attitude and her whistle were unchanged. They’d been a strong pair in the past, and she was his only chance of survival. If she let him in her window like before, he could use the only weapons he had left – charm and persuasion. If that failed, he was doomed to live - and die - as vermin.
He moved gingerly along the top of the wall. The wings got in his way, but he’d need them to glide to Demi’s window. Eventually he reached the corner where the remaining walls met, above an arrow slit facing south towards the city and the sea.
He was in full moonlight now, but although his eyes were as sharp as ever, he was numb to the moon’s power. Sweet sunlight, a full moon at the summer solstice! Even in this pale, tired world, the air should be humming with power, but he was numb to it.
He could see Demi’s house, the lower floor bright inside; the top floor dark. She slept at the back of the house, in a guest room overlooking the city, facing the moon and the sea. He worked out his route, and as he did so, the downstairs light was extinguished, and the light behind the door to the outside world came on. He expected the light at the top of the stairs to be lit next, but instead the front door opened, and three figures stepped through. One short and square; one fair-haired and athletic; the last, unmistakably Demali, tall, strong, and scowling. They crossed the road and entered an alley that led into the tower field. He’d once told Demali he could remember the days when people lived in the tower, before the city was built, and she’d believed him. But she was a little girl then – surely she’d be less gullible now? He’d told her of the dreadful battle which had left the river running red with blood, and that anyone who came to the tower at midnight on the summer solstice would see the ghosts of the slain as they floated, wailing, around the field. Sweet sunlight, was that why she was coming? He’d told her that tale to deter, not encourage, her. But as she emerged from the dark alley into the moonlight, he could see that events were already beyond his control.
As the three crossed the field, Demali paused in the moonlight, rippling her fingers as if soft water was flowing over them, her eyes widening as a smile spread across her face. The moonlight began to sparkle around her, and Blackbird wondered if Demi realised what was happening.
The fair-haired girl called out to Demali, urging her on. Demali drifted across the field, whilst the leader leapt effortlessly across the dried-up moat which surrounded the tower, followed less elegantly by her short friend. Blackbird recognised the one in front – Vicky, Demi’s cousin, more confident in her stance than when he’d last seen her, but as sharp as ever. She wouldn’t remember him, though – he’d made sure of that. He didn’t recognise the short one, but soon learned her name was Heledd from the conversation she was having with Vicky as they scrambled through the trees and shrubs up to the top of the mound.
Soon they emerged at the top of the mound, stepping from beneath a large oak into the moonlit space inside the tower.
‘Awesome view,’ he heard Vicky say, as she peered through the arrow slit. ‘I always knew Cardiff was dramatic, but I’ve never seen it by moonlight before.’ She was so close Blackbird could almost reach out and touch her, but unless she looked right up she wouldn’t see him.
Heledd had to go up on tiptoes to see the view. ‘Imagine if we had a power cut right now’, she said. ‘We’d be seeing th
e world as it was only 150 years ago.’
‘What, with all the dirt and disease? No thanks!’ Vicky said. ‘It is amazing, though – I never realised you could see colours by moonlight.’
‘We should night walk more often,’ Heledd said.
‘This was supposed to be Demi’s idea – that mad story about the ghosts. Although – it is a bit creepy up here. Do you feel like someone’s watching us?’ Vicky asked.
Vicky looked up, but although Blackbird could see the moonlight glittering in her eyes, she didn’t notice him, motionless in the shadows.
Demali was still crashing through the undergrowth. She yelped and complained something had bitten her.
‘Probably just caught your hand on a bramble,’ Vicky sighed. ‘It won’t kill you.’
‘But I’m bleeding! Look! What if I get it on my clothes?’ Demi wiped her finger on the oak tree, smearing her blood on it. As she stepped out into moonlight Blackbird saw how the edge of her shadow rippled and sparkled. For the first time in months, he smiled.
‘Is moonlight warm?’ Demi asked.
‘Huh? Of course not! What are you on about?’ Vicky replied.
‘I can feel something. Can’t you? I’m tingling all over. And there’s a smell too, like the smell of fireworks,’ Demi said.
‘I thought you said this wasn’t your first beer.’ Vicky snapped. ‘Glad I made you have a shandy, now.’
‘Are you saying you can feel the moonlight, Demi?’ Heledd sounded intrigued.
‘She’s just drunk. And up after bedtime.’ Vicky retorted
‘I’m not drunk! Just because I can do something you can’t, for once.’ Demi tilted her face to the moon and opened her arms, embracing the night. ‘Magic,’ she murmured, ‘Pure magic.’
‘Demi-Lee Jenkins, I’ve told you before, you are not a witch and you cannot drink the moonlight. Jeez, is your imaginary friend back in town?’ Vicky scolded.
Demi huffed loudly and glared at Vicky, hands on hips. Blackbird held his breath. It was Heledd who spoke next, her calm voice cutting through the tension. ‘You had an imaginary friend? Cool! I did a whole project on the parallels between kids’ imaginary friends and the spirit guides of tribal people. Would you tell me about him sometime?’
Demi stayed mute and scowling, but Vicky supplied the explanation.
‘Back when she was a kid she started going on about this guy who used to come in through the window when she stayed at my house. He used to tell her she was special, apparently, that she was good at magic, and he’d teach her lots of tricks when she was old enough.’ Vicky said. ‘My mum was on the verge of calling the paedophile squad when Demi said, no, no, it was okay, he was only a fairy, so we weren’t to be frightened of him. That was when we realised it was all in her head.’
‘That’s a sweet story,’ said Heledd. ‘There’s nothing wrong with wanting someone to tell you you’re special. Interesting that it was a male fairy though – sounds more traditional than the glittery, girly creatures who’ve taken over the role recently.’
‘Yeah, that’s true,’ Vicky said, ‘My mum bought her a fairy book the next Christmas, and Demi hated it. Said her fairy was nothing like that and whoever wrote the book had obviously never met a real one.’ Vicky laughed.
Blackbird could see Demi was fuming. The angrier she got, the more the moonlight boiled off her shadow. Perfect.
‘Ah, come on,’ said Vicky. ‘Even you could be cute when you were a kid. Do you remember when you showed me a feather and tried to persuade me it was from this fairy’s wings? She kept waving it at me, and I was convinced she’d get salmonella from it. I pretended to be convinced in the end, and she was so happy, she skipped away.’
‘Oh, stop being such a cow!’ Demi snapped. ‘I don’t know why I bother, you always make out I’m such an idiot.’
‘Hey, calm down. You were a little girl then. She was only about six,’ Vicky explained. ‘It just stuck in my mind ‘cos it was so unlike her to let her imagination run riot. Maybe we should go back to the house – it’s getting cold, and I still feel like someone’s watching us.’
‘Maybe there’s something in that big oak – is it me, or is it rustling when all the others are still?’ Heledd said.
Heledd wasn’t the only one who’d noticed the tree’s unrest. Blackbird wondered if it was responding to the moonlight – oaks were the most magical of trees, after all. As he watched, Heledd made an odd suggestion.
‘Let’s dance,’ she said. ‘A moondance on the shortest night of the year. Then we can go back to normality. This place is getting weird.’
She grabbed the cousins by the hands, and pushed and pulled them into a spinning circle on the moonlit motte.
High on the wall, Blackbird watched them turn in the moonlight, and wondered. Had Heledd heard that command, from the other presence there, one much older even than he was. Who was it, hidden in the tree, and causing these three to dance widdershins in the moonlight? He would have fled, but couldn’t leave Demi in danger.
Sparks of magic streamed from Demi’s shadow, forming a glittering spiral as she turned. The moon was now shining through the arrow slit onto the oak tree, right where Demi had smeared her blood, and as the stream of magic touched the spot, something happened.
The blood began to glow with a cold silver light, then glittering white flames spread across the trunk. The three girls stopped turning and stared open-mouthed. Demi and Heledd seemed spellbound, but Vicky, still holding the others’ hands, dragged them down the motte.
Blackbird heard them crashing through the bushes, then saw Vicky leap the moat, and urge the others across. They stumbled across the field to the alleyway, Vicky stopping and turning repeatedly as her desire to flee conflicted with her need to protect her little cousin. The light from the tree dazzled Blackbird and he turned away, but he could see its flailing shadow and hear the leaves thrashing wildly.
Demali stopped and looked back, shielding her eyes. Could she see him? No, the light from the tree was too bright and chaotic. Then the light and the noise dwindled. Two voices called, 'Demi, Demi,' urgently, repeatedly, and she turned and disappeared into the lane.
Blackbird turned back towards the tree, waiting for his dazzled eyes to adjust.
Atop the motte, beside the oak, a tall figure stretched her arms to the sky and flexed her fingers. Uprooting her feet from the earth she blinked her leaf-like eyelids. She saw Blackbird, and offered her hand. For a moment they gazed at each other, until, in a language not heard there for a long time, each asked the other, ‘What in the world are you?’