A Basket of Wishes

by Rebecca Paisley

  “You—”

  “Look,” he said, walking toward her chair, “I must make love to you to get you with child. At least, that’s what I would have to do with a human wife. But—”

  “Oh, Jourdian—”

  “Don’t cry again,” he ordered. “We’ll figure it out. We’ll just go slowly, that’s all. We’ll experiment. And I’ll stop in a second if—”

  “But I have just this second figured it out.” Splendor rose from the chair and placed her hands on his hips. “If making love to me…or bedding me will get me with child, then the answer is simple. I did not understand the two were related until you told me. Humans and fairies procreate in the same manner, husband. ’Twas the one thing my father told me.

  “And so,” she continued, reaching inside his robe, “you will put yourself inside me, spill, and I shall conceive.”

  Jourdian felt her soft, warm hand fondling his sex. He wasn’t ready to respond to her caresses. Didn’t want to bed her. Not until he’d had some time to gather his thoughts and fully surrender himself to the circumstances fate had dealt him. After all, it was only yesterday when he’d discovered his wife was a fairy. And it was only moments ago that he’d learned that his son might very well be more of a Pillywiggin than an Amberville.

  No, he was not prepared to make love to her. Not yet.

  He started to step away from her, away from her hand and the delicate fingers that stroked him. But he couldn’t. And it wasn’t Splendor’s magic that kept him from doing so.

  It was his own reaction to her beauty. In despair though he was over her relation to Faerie, he still could not deny that she was, without a doubt, the loveliest female he’d ever beheld.

  He lifted his hand, cupped her breast, and felt himself harden in her palm.

  “The cattail returns,” Splendor murmured. She parted his robe and lowered her gaze. “Why does this happen to you, Jourdian?”

  Before he could answer, the room became awash with a bright silver glow. In the center of the ceiling burned a red-orange ball of fire.

  Jourdian watched the flaming orb descend. “What the devil—”

  “I want to see the cattail, too,” Harmony announced as she doused her blazes.

  Jourdian stared at the naked woman.

  “This is my younger sister, Harmony,” Splendor said.

  He continued to gawk at Harmony for a moment before looking at Splendor. “Your sister… She was fire.”

  “Aye, that is what she was.”

  Harmony laughed. Shocking humans into speechlessness had always been one of her favorite pastimes. “Care to see more of my magnificent talents, human?”

  Within a swirl of silver enchantment, she became a pink velvet chair. A skeleton whose bones moved as if waltzing at a ball. A tall marble pillar. A Samurai warrior; a long, black whip; an emerald-encrusted gold box overflowing with rubies and pearls; a tattered straw hat; and finally a majestic white unicorn with a wreath of fragrant coral roses around her neck.

  Then she became herself again, human size.

  Jourdian was too stunned to speak.

  “Harmony, you are a show-off,” Splendor said. “Jourdian, Harmony used her powers of shape-shifting to turn herself into all those things.”

  He nodded as if her explanation made all the sense in the world. “Shape-shifting.” He wondered if Splendor possessed the same powers, but before he could ask her he saw Harmony sail toward him.

  She wrapped her frail arms around his back and pushed her lips to his mouth with all the energy she had.

  Totally shocked, Jourdian could not react immediately.

  “Harmony, that is enough!” Splendor shouted.

  His broad chest heaving with fury, Jourdian thrust Harmony away.

  “Strong,” Harmony whispered, her gaze riveted to Jourdian’s lips. “Oh, Splendor, you were right! I am filled with such strength that I feel I could spin the whole of the Earth upon the tip of my little finger! This kissing…’tis glorious, sister!”

  Splendor felt as though she’d eaten something terribly disagreeable. A sour taste filled her mouth, and her insides cramped with a burning ache.

  The sensation was much like anger, but something more as well. Whatever the emotion was, it had erupted the second she’d seen Harmony’s lips touch Jourdian’s.

  She scowled, and when she spoke her voice shook with displeasure. “Glorious as it is, Harmony, you have had your kiss, and you may nay have another. Jourdian’s lips belong to me, as do all his kisses, and I’ll not have you—”

  “So you’ve said,” Harmony spat. “Fine. I shall find another human man to do this kissing with. Now, before I return to Pillywiggin, let me see his cattail.”

  Anxious for her sister to leave, Splendor started to pull Jourdian’s robe to the side so her sister could see.

  Jourdian snatched the robe from her hand and pulled it back together. “For God’s sake, Splendor!”

  She cocked her head toward her shoulder. “’Tis only Harmony, Jourdian. My sister. She’s never seen a cattail—”

  “Well, she’s not seeing mine!” He glared at the fairy who was Splendor’s sister. Harmony didn’t resemble Splendor at all, he thought. While her hair was just as long and thick, it was golden blond, and her eyes were the color of fiery sapphires.

  She was quite beautiful, but there was something about her… Something…

  Jourdian knew instinctively that she was trouble.

  He pushed his shoulders back, irritated by her abrupt arrival in his personal quarters, the liberty she’d taken by stealing a kiss, and her mischievous nature. If gentle-hearted Splendor could send him into a pit of snakes, he didn’t want to think about what Harmony could do.

  He wanted her out of his home. “I don’t recall extending you an invitation into my rooms. Into my house, for that matter.”

  Harmony raised a delicately arched brow. “I do not recall seeking an invitation. I go where I wish, and I do not need or want the approval of some cattailed human.”

  Jourdian narrowed his eyes, his dislike for Splendor’s sister growing steadily. “Leave.”

  Her actions so fast they were blurred, Harmony pitched a handful of glitter at him.

  Jourdian disappeared.

  “Harmony!” Splendor cried, clasping her cheeks with her hands as she stared at the spot where Jourdian had stood only a moment ago. “Oh, sister, what have you done?”

  Harmony began to braid a long lock of her hair.

  “Harmony!”

  “I did what I’ve advised you to do twice.”

  For a moment, Splendor was confused. And then comprehension fell on her like a stone wall. “Nay! A slug, Harmony?”

  “Slime-trailing,” Harmony added. “You’ll find him outside. ’Tis where slugs belong. But I didn’t bury him in the dirt, though. He’s out in the open so you may spot him easier. ’Twas thoughtful of me not to bury him, was it not?”

  “Out in the open.” Splendor gasped. “Sweet everlasting, sister, what if a bird eats him!”

  Harmony finished plaiting her hair, then tossed the thick braid over her shoulder. “’Tis a possibility. I suggest you go rescue him from such a grisly fate.”

  “But where is he?”

  “I told you. Outside. Are you losing your hearing, Splendor?”

  “Where outside?” Splendor demanded. “Where?”

  Harmony smiled. “’Tis for me to know, and you to find out.”

  Splendor burned inside. Hotter than ever before. Throwing herself forward, she tried to grab and shake her sister.

  But Harmony vanished, leaving naught but a few silver twinkles in Splendor’s hands.

  “Harmony! Come back this instant and tell me where you’ve put Jourdian!”

  Nothing. No sound, no Harmony.

  Terrified for Jourdian’s safety and mindless of her naked state, Splendor soared through the wall and flew over the vast estate. Her fear grew, her eyes filled with tears, and the tiny diamonds sprinkled over the land, catching s
unlight within their prisms as they fell through the air.

  Heathcourte boasted of dozens of gardens, and she had no idea which one to explore first. There were probably hundreds upon hundreds of slugs in the cultivated patches of earth over which she sailed!

  She would have to search through them all. One by one.

  Until she found her husband’s slimy trail.

  As Emil alighted from his coach in front of Jourdian’s manor, a flash of red in a nearby garden of dense bushes caught his attention. Thinking the movement that of a large bird, he proceeded toward the steps of the house.

  “Emil!”

  He turned, his eyes widening when he saw Splendor standing among the thick plants. She was as naked as the statue of the nude woman she stood beside, and her face, arms, and hands were covered with dirt. “Splendor, what in heaven’s name are you doing?”

  She motioned him toward her, and when he arrived she took both his arms into her muddy hands. “Emil, you must help me! I have looked in no fewer than thirteen gardens!”

  He didn’t miss her hysteria. Not only did she sound totally panicked, but she was paler than he’d ever seen her, and her entire body was quaking.

  Quickly, he removed his coat and assisted her into it. “What are you looking for?”

  “Slugs. I have found a wealth of them, but none is—”

  “Slugs? But why? Where is Jourdian? Does he know you’re out here looking for—”

  “I will explain later, Emil. For now, you must help me find slugs. I will continue searching through this garden, and you will search in others. Save every slug you find, and when we are finished looking through every garden, I will examine each slug we collect.”

  “But—”

  “Here is a sack.” Splendor curled her arm behind her back, released a few silver stars, then grabbed hold of the burlap sack that suddenly appeared in her hand. Quickly she gave the bag to Emil.

  “Splendor, I don’t understand—”

  “Please,” she begged, gazing into his eyes with all the desperation coursing through her frame. “Just do as I ask, Emil.”

  He did. And hours later when he joined Splendor near one of the estate fountains, he handed her a sack half full of slimy slugs. “And now, Splendor,” he said, brushing his dirty hands over his pants legs, “tell me why I performed this outrageous chore.”

  She dumped his slugs into the massive pile of the ones she’d found. On the ground she began sorting through them. “I shall tell you, that I promise, Emil, but first we must find the slug with the black dot on its face.”

  “A black dot.”

  “’Tis a mole.”

  “A mole. Of course. How terribly silly of me not to have realized that myself.”

  “Sit down here with me and help me find the—”

  “The slug with the black mole on its face.”

  “Aye! And we must hurry because my strength is quickly waning. This day has taken a supreme toll on me, Emil!”

  Bewildered beyond belief, but hesitant to further upset the panicked Splendor, Emil sat down on the grass and picked up a slug. Bringing the creature closer to his eyes, he looked for a black dot on the slimy little face. “This one hasn’t as much as a freckle.”

  “Then put it back in the sack. We mustn’t mix them up or else we will find ourselves examining the same slugs over and over again.”

  Emil deposited the moleless slug into the bag, and continued to help Splendor inspect the others. A short while later the sack was full, and not a single slug they’d analyzed had had a black dot on its face.

  “He’s not here!” Splendor cried. “He’s still loose somewhere!”

  “Who?” Emil seized her shoulders, deeply concerned over her rising agitation. “Splendor, who—”

  “Jourdian!”

  “Jourdian?”

  Splendor didn’t reply. A hawk had caught her attention. The great bird circled in the sky a few times before switching direction and sailing down toward the mansion. Closer it flew. Closer, nearer to one of the second-story balconies.

  Something was on that balcony, Splendor realized. Something the hawk wanted.

  A sixth sense told her exactly what that something was.

  She flew to her feet, raised her arms, and threw her magic with all the strength she had. The silver stars shot toward the manor, reaching the balcony the same time as the hawk did.

  “Jourdian!” Splendor screamed.

  And then he was there, hanging off the balcony and swatting at the hawk that was pecking at his head.

  “My God!” Emil shouted. “Oh, dear God!”

  “Splendor!” Jourdian yelled. “The hawk! I can’t hold on!”

  Skimming toward him, Splendor drew back her hand to toss more magic at him, but did not release the stars in time.

  Jourdian fell off the balcony and landed in the thick hedgerow that lined the side of the manor house.

  “Jourdian!” Splendor and Emil cried in unison.

  They reached him just as he was struggling to remove himself from within the thick branches of hedgerow. Leaves and small sticks stuck out of his hair, his black dressing robe was torn in various places, and a bird bite bled on his forehead.

  Emil looked up at the balcony. “Jourdian, what in God’s name were you doing on that balcony?”

  Jourdian glared at Splendor. “I was hanging on it, Emil. But first, of course, I crawled up the side of the house. Out of the ivy garden. And once on the balcony I almost became supper for a damned hawk!”

  Emil could not utter a word. Confusion and disbelief fairly consumed him as he pondered the day’s events. Splendor and her slug hunt. Jourdian hanging off a balcony and now shouting that he’d almost been eaten by a hawk.

  He wondered if the duke and duchess had been drinking. “Jourdian,” he finally said, “what do you mean you crawled up the side of the house?”

  Jourdian didn’t take his angry gaze off Splendor for a second. “I mean just that. I crawled up the side of the house. If you don’t believe me, look for yourself. I left a slimy trail in my wake!”

  “Jourdian, I am supremely sorry,” Splendor murmured. “We did our very best to find you in one of the gardens, but—”

  “Emil almost stepped on me, damn it all!”

  “But he did not step on you, and you are all right now, are you not?” Splendor asked. Gently, she touched the hawk peck on his forehead.

  The wound vanished, but Jourdian’s fury did not. “Splendor,” he growled, “if I ever see that malicious sister of yours again, I’ll—”

  “Kiss me, husband,” she whispered, feeling herself tremble as the last of her energy drained from her body.

  Jourdian frowned. He’d just fallen off a balcony after almost being devoured by a bird of prey, and she wanted him to kiss her?

  “I am dwindling,” Splendor tried to make him understand. “Kiss me now, for I’ve nay the strength to take a kiss myself.”

  Jourdian saw her sway on her feet and reached for her immediately. His arms embraced thin air.

  “I am here, Jourdian,” a small voice called from below.

  Jourdian looked down. There, standing on a smooth, white pebble was a very naked, very tiny Splendor.

  “Jourdian,” Emil whispered. “Splendor… She’s—”

  “A fairy,” Jourdian announced, still staring down at Splendor.

  “A fairy,” Emil repeated. His legs shaking, he grabbed his cousin’s shoulder for support, to no avail.

  Jourdian watched Emil crash to the ground, right next to where Splendor stood.

  She laid her tiny hand on Emil’s earlobe. “He fainted, Jourdian. Poor Emil.”

  Jourdian didn’t say a word. Summoning patience and resignation he had never realized he possessed, he picked his family up off the grass.

  And then the utterly proper duke of Heathcourte walked around to the front of the manor, up the steps, and into the house, his unconscious cousin slung over his shoulder and his wee wife in the pocket of his robe.


  Chapter Fourteen

  “A fairy,” Emil said, lying on the sofa in the blue salon, nursing a stiff shot of brandy. He’d gotten over his initial shock, but remained totally astonished by the fact that the newest member of the Amberville family was also a member of Faerie. “A real live fairy.”

  Jourdian slammed his fist down on the arm of his chair. “How many times will you say that? You’ve been repeating those same words since you came out of your swoon a half an hour ago. Can you think of naught else to say? For almost two decades you have made it your business to give me advice, and now I find myself married to a fairy, and you babble like an idiot.”

  Emil sat up, set his brandy snifter down, and swiped his hair away from his eyes. “A fairy. You married a fairy. With my own eyes… I saw her shrink. I cannot believe—”

  “Well, you had better believe it! She threw me into a snake pit, sewed my lips together, and then her sister, Harmony, turned me into a slime-trailing slug! If that’s not proof enough—”

  “I believe you, Jourdian.” Shaking his head, Emil rose from the sofa and began to walk around the room. “I find it terribly difficult to believe, but I do believe you. It all makes sense now…all the strange occurrences. Splendor’s flowers at the wedding. She changed them from silk into real ones. The hornet—Harmony, her sister. And when I visited her in her room that night after you left, she glowed. Stars fell all around her, and I thought her an angel or some magical creature. I remember being uncertain as to whether I should run or fall to my knees before her. Ultimately, I decided my exhaustion was causing me to see things.”

  “You do realize that you cannot tell a soul about Splendor, do you not?”

  Emil stopped beside the small ornate fireplace. “Do you think me daft? I would be locked away until the end of my days!”

  Jourdian rested his head on the back of his chair. “The same possibility occurred to me.”

  “Where is Splendor, by the way?”

  “Still in my pocket.” Jourdian looked down at the tiny bulge in his dressing robe pocket, which lay over his thigh. “She fell asleep in there. I touched her with my finger to wake her up, but she’s sleeping so hard that she didn’t move or make a sound.”