All resembled Jennet in that they had the same almond-shaped eyes, the same high cheekbones and delicately pointed chin; yet all were different, having their own character and other disparate features. Many were joined in song, a siren’s song which Thom imagined could easily lead susceptible men out into the dangerous depths of the lake where currents were strongest. Every single pair of violet and silver eyes was on him and he felt mesmerized by them, the urge to swim out to be in their midst pulling at his will. It was his companion who broke the spell.
‘Undines,’ she told him. ‘Waterfays, like me. Like your mother.’
It was those last words that interrupted his fascination and caused him to wheel towards her.
‘My mother . . .!’
Jennet’s voice was kindly, soothing. ‘She came from the seas, Thom, from the oceans. Like us, she came from the waterfalls, the streams and . . .’ she indicated the disturbed stretch of water before them ‘. . . the lakes. It was here, at this spot, that your father found her.’
‘She never told me, she never mentioned anything like this . . .’
‘Oh but she did. It was Bethan who made you forget.’
‘What are you talking about? I’ve never known any of this.’
‘Thom, you did. When you were just a child Bethan wanted you to know everything about herself.’
‘Then why can’t I remember?’ He shook his head in exasperation, aware through the periphery of his vision that the water creatures – nymphs? – were moving closer to the shore. ‘What are you telling me? I just don’t get—’
‘Be calm.’
His hand had gone to his brow and now she reached up and took his wrist, drawing his hand away from his face.
‘Let’s sit a while and rest,’ she went on. ‘You’ve had so much to take in recently and you’re confused. Bewildered too, no doubt. It’s time for you to rest and let your mind absorb.’
‘These . . .?’ He waved a hand towards the undines, some of whom were emerging from the lake. He saw that several had skins tinged with green, others with blue. Very few seemed to have the natural if pallid colouring of Jennet herself. He wondered if she were something special among them.
‘They wish you no harm,’ she replied to his unspoken question. ‘They’re curious, that’s all. Not many of them have ever seen someone like you.’
‘So I’m the . . . oddity here?’ He had almost said ‘freak’.
‘To us, yes. But we know your kind rule this world.’
Thom said little else. Instead he turned back to the advancing water-creatures, occasionally murmuring with wonder. Closer up they looked even more beautiful, their faces appealing, their bodies . . . God, their bodies were alluring, especially when seen through the diaphanous clothing that many wore. They remained cautious, but nevertheless moved nearer to him, stepping from the shallows while remaining by the water’s edge as if ready to flee back from whence they came should Thom give the slightest cause for alarm.
The singing had stopped, although they made little chattering sounds at each other, their meaning gradually filtering through to Thom so that before long he could understand their words. Most of their remarks were directed at him, generally flattering comments about his height. (Some of these undines were the same size as Jennet, but the majority were smaller, so that if it had not been for their breasts, they could have easily been mistaken for children. Indeed, it did seem that there were very young girls among them, for these were even smaller than the smaller ones, their thin bodies hardly developed at all. It was these that drew the closest to him as if they had not yet learned proper caution, and their chattering was in higher strains, their giggles and chuckles much more free.)
‘Sit here, Thom.’ Jennet had taken both his hands in her own and was urging him towards the base of an old oak.
And suddenly he did feel tired, as though his body were obeying by auto-suggestion, his left leg growing weak as usual, his left arm becoming a little numbed. He practically slumped on to the mossy area beneath the oak.
For a moment, Jennet looked concerned, then she sat next to him on the ground, resting on a hand, knees drawn up.
‘It’ll pass, Thom. You’re exhausted, but you’ll feel better in a moment or two.’
With that, she raised her palm again and dust – magic dust – was blown into his face. This time he inhaled deeply, his trust in this wondrous being implicit, even though he could not quite take in all she told him. Instantly, he revived, the powder working, he imagined, like a coke hit, and he looked earnestly into her face.
‘Please tell me everything,’ he said and once again she was smiling at him.
‘First you need to know about us.’
And with the words she spoke, a calmness descended upon him. Not only did he trust her and know she meant him no harm, but he felt she held the secret of his own past, a secret he hadn’t even been aware of until this day. The area around him had come alive, not just with the girls and young women she had called undines, but with imps and pixies again, with faeries who played instruments that resembled lutes, although their tone was different, higher in pitch, less musical on initial hearing, but after a while more musical than any comparable earthly instrument. Its sound was oddly exhilarating and relaxing at the same time – he supposed it depended on the mood of the individual. A funny little man with brown skin and a peaked cloth cap sat at the edge of the lake playing a long thin pipe, its sound at once bleak, yet perfectly in tune with the other instruments. The music drifted across the water’s surface, both haunting and sweet in melody and Thom felt an unaccustomed melancholy that was bitter sweet, as though he were being reminded of his mortal status, that he was not truly part of this strange otherworld. As for the creatures around him, the faeries that settled on leaves or in open flowers, the imps who stopped their frolicking to listen, and the animals that rested in the grass, the music seemed to render them reflective, more still. The undines, themselves, sang along with it, dulcet and ethereal, mystical to his ears.
He laughed when he saw beings so tiny that blades of grass towered over them; they wore snowdrops on their heads to protect themselves from the high sun and, on closer inspection, he realized they were toddlers, infant faeries, watched over by the older of their kind. Something arrived from the water with a splash that startled Thom and when he looked towards the grassy bank he spied an oddly beautiful creature – oddly, for although her face was vixen-shaped, her eyes dramatically slanted and closed almost to black slits, her ears long and also pointed, her flesh and bare breasts bluish, the unusual ensemble was strangely exquisite and perfectly formed. A garland of water lilies adorned her long black hair and her lengthy wings flapped languorously in the warm sunshine. She squatted on the bank studying him for a moment, no more then ten inches high but superb in every singular detail; it was only when she gave a kind of squawk-croak and leapt into the air from her haunches that he noticed the incredibly long webbed toes, the brighter blue mottling of her legs and feet. Her leap was high and arced, like that of a frog and indeed, except for the colouring, the lowest portion of her legs was amphibian.
‘Christ!’ he explaimed as she hopped out of sight beneath nearby undergrowth.
There was laughter around him.
‘It’s only the Frog Queen,’ Jennet said, laughing with the others. ‘Sorry she startled you.’
He should have been used to such queer sights by now, for hadn’t he already seen a thing that was half-faery, half-hedgehog, and another that had shrubbery growing from its head and back? He’d been allowed a peep into a different dimension and nothing more should have surprised him. Even so, when he saw four tiny imps sitting astride a swift-moving grass-snake close by he could not help but wonder what else awaited him. The imps waved and went on their merry way, the one at the front holding a little twig which he used to tap either side of the green snake’s head, evidently his way of steering the reptile. More laughter when the one nearest the tail fell off as the snake swiftly changed direct
ion to avoid coming too close to Thom.
Many of the undines had now emerged from the lake to sit in a semicircle around Thom, although they remained at a distance; others preferred to sit in the shallows and watch from there. They were all beautiful, he noticed, each one in her own way, their faces generally wan in the sunshine, their bodies slender and supple. Whether naked or wearing the flimsy dresses and skirts, each one was incredibly erotic – and exotic – to Thom’s eyes and it was almost impossible to subdue the stirring of his loins. He tried to cover his literally growing embarrassment by leaning forward from the tree trunk and resting his wrists on his knees. Even so, one or two of the nearest undines tried to smother their giggles with slender hands as they watched him coyly from the corners of their eyes.
Jennet scolded them with a look.
Flustered, Thom said: ‘Tell me about the undines, Jennet. Are you one of them?’
‘Yes, Thom, I’m an undine and so was Bethan.’
‘She . . . she lived in the lake?’ He was shaking his head disbelievingly even as he asked the question.
‘She came from the lake. It was over there . . .’ she pointed ‘. . . by the willow that your father first set eyes on her.’
‘And this is where she returned,’ Thom said grimly.
‘This is where she died.’
‘Were there – are there – others like my mother? Undines or faeries posing as humans?’
‘Not posing, Thom. Assuming the identities of humans. There is no pretence involved. But to answer your question, yes, there are several of us walking your Earth at this moment. Usually they are very discreet, but one in particular has already drawn too much attention to herself. She’s quite famous?’
‘Oh yeah? Who might that someone be?’
‘She’s an Icelandic singer. You humans think her a little eccentric, but in truth, she acts the way she does because she is still confused. She hasn’t adapted yet, though she will in time. Meanwhile, most of you find her singing very strange; but persevere, eventually it will make sense to you.’
A green-silver-blue spark drifted between them and poised in the air in front of Thom. He could discern no regular shape to it, no form at all, and it surprised him by suddenly streaking off and vanishing completely before it had gone five yards. Another appeared, this one red and gold in appearance, a tiny fiery star that behaved in exactly the same manner as the previous one, although zooming off and disappearing in a different direction. Thom looked at Jennet quizzically.
‘Little spirits,’ she explained as yet another, and then another loomed before them. These were mainly purple and silver-white, although other fainter colours seemed to flare in their auroras. ‘They’re curious about you. It’s not often that humans are allowed time to focus on them, so consider yourself privileged. Sometimes the eyes of your kind might catch their reflections, but rarely will they be seen properly unless by people who have very sensitive intuitions.’
‘You mean psychics?’
She shrugged. ‘We have no special word for them. To us they’re just humans who see more clearly.’
‘And these . . . these things?’
‘I told you, spirits, elementals. They are part of everything, the hidden life-force of all that exists. Their energies have wonderful powers.’
The three pulsing lights disappeared as abruptly as their precursors. But almost immediately a whole galaxy of similarly brilliant coruscations took their place, creating a glittering nebula between them. Thom had to squint against their combined glow, but he saw that they all comprised the same shades of light, twinkling blues to mauve and indigo, their nuclei a dazzling white that emitted streaks of its own essence into the halo of colours. Thom’s shoulders hit the broad tree trunk behind him as he backed off.
‘Don’t be afraid, Thom.’
He heard her voice, her image hazy behind the shifting nebula.
‘They’re here for you. They’re healers.’
Thom drew his feet up, pressing his spine even harder into the rough bark at his back. For some reason he was nervous of these dancing lights for, although other small faeries had eventually graduated into human-like figures, these remained dazzling little stars with no obvious form and therefore utterly alien to him, possessing nothing he could relate to as a human himself. Why were they here for him?
‘Jennet, I . . .’
‘Hush, now. Relax and let them do their work. Her bad magic is strong, Thom, because she comes from a long line of evil women.’
‘Nell Quick is just a woman,’ he insisted.
‘Haven’t you learned anything?’
His question came out of fear. ‘Why should you care? Why are you concerned for me?’
She moved slightly so that now he could see her beyond the fainter fringes of the cluster. ‘For Bethan’s sake,’ she said. ‘And for ours.’
Like movie spaceships veering off to attack, the tiny stars arced towards him, each one taking its own graceful route, gliding forward to weave across his face and raised hands. They touched his bare skin, probes with no bite, scouting first before targeting. He felt their rays of light on the surface of his flesh, small beams of warmth that tickled, the soft heat sinking into him, disturbing his skin without hurting or even irritating. Some zoomed across his forehead and temples, peculiarly brushing without actually touching, while others reached his bare left arm to travel its length, down and then up, a constant traffic of energizing passes, their ethereal force entering his flesh, journeying with his bloodstream to be carried around his entire system.
He felt faint; he felt his body had been invaded by alien but friendly micro-organisms; and after a few seconds he felt a strength galvanizing every tissue, sinew and muscle. His blood seemed to rush through him with its vivifying cargo and he could almost feel its beat as it flowed in steady heart-governed shifts. The faintness soon left him as his body began to respond to the infusion.
It was miraculous. It was wonderful. It was a drug-free high that made him want to cry out with the pleasure it brought. His left arm was no longer numbed, his leg no longer ached. His chest swelled with the euphoria and, when he opened his eyes, for he had closed them in his joy, he saw that the water nymphs had moved even closer and were now joined by other imps and faeries, some of whom watched him intently, while others played and frolicked regardless of his presence. Several small animals had left the denser part of the woods to come closer and two roe deer were drinking from the lake itself.
He returned his attention to Jennet and when he searched her lovely and bewitching eyes, they were slightly hooded, as if she, herself had become tired.
But Thom had mistaken the look she was giving him, for when she touched his upper arm he felt a palpable frisson between them, a charge that seemed to run through his limbs, his body, his heart, and rather than being unpleasant, it was exciting, arousing, a kind of tingling shiver that was stronger than before travelling with it. It was not weariness he saw in her, but uninhibited sexual hunger. Jennet had sensed his body’s reaction to the micro-probes that coursed through him, instilling an energy he had rarely experienced. All sensations were heightened and he felt undeniably sensual.
As she sat on her heels by his side, Thom found it increasingly impossible to ignore her nakedness beneath the flimsy, translucent garment she wore, the delicate breasts and soft curve of her belly, the white unblemished flesh of her thighs, creating urges in him that were physically difficult to disguise. Oh God, he thought, embarrassed that his arousal was as transparent as her shift. He raised his knees higher to hide his swelling, his bare heels digging into the soft moss.
‘Jennet . . .’ he began to say, but suddenly she was leaning forward and brushing her lips against his cheek.
‘So many questions, Thom, and all to be answered in time. How do you feel now?’
‘Uh . . . I feel wonderful,’ he replied, which was true enough but not quite all.
‘Then let’s walk on and talk further.’
She skipped to her
feet and reached for him. Taking her hand and relishing the excitement of her touch again, he rose awkwardly. He shoved his fists into his jeans pocket, a weak attempt to camouflage the impudent bulge alongside. He felt ridiculously healthy and he prayed it would last. As they walked around the fringes of the peaceful lake, the other undines watching, some waving, his mind focused on the things Jennet had told him so far and he was soon lost in thought again.
‘I used to think Bethan was the most beautiful undine I’d ever seen,’ she said as they walked through the long grass that ran down to the very edge of the lake. ‘Of course, I was only a faery-child, but even I could appreciate true beauty and wisdom. The undines wept when she left them and they mourned when she returned to us only to pass over into the next realm.’
Thom felt anger, confusion. ‘But why did she have to die? And why did she leave me? I had no one else, no father, no relatives at all, and only one friend.’
‘She had no choice. It’s the way.’
‘Not for humans, it isn’t. We stick by our children mostly.’
‘She had become almost human. We always do when we fall in love with your kind. Our magic slowly weakens as we begin to live as humans, although the powers never leave us entirely. Some magic remains but these amount to little more than the ability to create love potions, cures, ointments – nothing truly extraordinary.’
Birds nesting in boughs overhead sang of their approach; a red fox with an odd scar blemishing its small rascally face loped across their path, pausing only to look and bark crossly at them before going on its way.
‘Goodbye, Rumbo,’ she called after it.
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