Romancing Austin

by Riley Bancroft, Evelyn Berry, Cara Carnes, Jax Garren, Irene Preston, Rebecca Royce, Chandra Ryan

  She followed the sounds of indignant shrieks and the flap of his wings, shoving aside dead leaves and overgrown weeds. Was he stuck in something? It was dark, but he got louder. She rushed forward, then smacked into a brick wall and landed on her butt.

  Again.

  “Hold on, Manuel, I’m coming to get you.” She retreated a few steps, then ran toward the wall. Leaping, she grasped the top edge. She used her toes to find holds in the wall and pulled herself to the top.

  Manuel flapped about in a pool of water, trying unsuccessfully to extract himself. Spying her, he squawked. She hurried to get as close as possible to the edge of the pool. Falling to her knees, she reached out and grabbed the tip of his wing with her fingers. Once she tugged him to the edge, he used his claws to grasp and heft himself from the water.

  Wheezing, Manuel collapsed on the top of the wall. His tiny frame shook with exhaustion, and he rolled to his side, shaking water off his body.

  “Are you okay, buddy?” She scratched behind his right ear, and his eyelids closed half-mast in pleasure. “We can rest for a few moments, but we gotta hurry if we want to find the festival and the Reed-man.”

  He tried to stretch out both wings, but his left wing opened a bit before he snapped it shut with a high-pitched screech.

  “Oh no, Manuel! Are you badly hurt?” She probed at his wing and couldn’t find any broken bones. “I think you strained it.” After tearing off a swathe of lacy material from her full court dress, she wrapped it around his closed wing. “Look at that.” She gave him an encouraging smile. “I bet you’ll be right as spring water in no time. We just have to give you some rest…and look, you’ll have the finest bandage of any bat this side of the Guadalupe River.”

  At least the diamond-studded garment finally had a purpose besides making her uncomfortable. That morning, Aurora had fidgeted as her mother’s court attendants readied her for Queen Titania’s annual visit. Her long blue hair had been brushed and curled until it draped over her shoulders, and a gown of gossamer silk draped over her small frame, the jeweled stones twinkling under the light from the candelabras.

  Every spring, the fairy queen deigned to visit the lower realms, striking fear into the populace or bestowing favors on those who toadied the best. The Kingdom of Barton Hills was neither rebellious nor inattentive, but her mother’s kingdom did have one thing the fairy queen wanted: a musician.

  A human musician by the name of Dexter Bryce Reed had somehow enchanted Queen Titania, ruler of the nine fairy realms. Instead of breaking the ancient laws and getting the human herself, Titania had decided a chosen champion would fetch the man to her. As the eldest daughter, Zephyr declared she would go to the humans and find the Reed-man.

  Aurora would not have it. The fairy folk needed Zephyr. Aurora’s more responsible sister was next in line for the throne of Barton Hills, and a thousand times better than Aurora. It didn’t matter if she ended up enslaved to Titania, but the folk needed Zephyr. Who knew what would happen to this champion if she failed?

  To make absolutely sure the kingdom took Titania’s claim seriously, the fairy Queen had imprisoned Aurora’s mother in an iron cage until her will was done. While Zephyr requisitioned supplies and soldiers, Aurora had stolen the enchanted bracelet, begged Manuel for the biggest favor ever, then flown off to the human city, Austin. She’d broken so many laws put into place by elders to protect fairy-folk from humans.

  Leaving the sanctuary of the forest and trespassing into the human world broke the first law. Her second infraction would be using forbidden fairy magic to transform into a human.

  She grimaced as she looked down at herself. After brushing off some dirt and pulling twigs out of her hair, she glanced at Manuel and pretended not to notice her hand shaking when she patted him on the head.

  “Are you ready? Don’t be frightened.” She didn’t know if the reassurance was for Manuel or herself. Seeing as she’d never transformed into a full-sized human before, a nest of rattlers coiled in her gut.

  She lifted her left arm and inspected the bracelet Queen Titania had ensorcelled. Out of all the objects at the bacchanalia, why had Titania chosen this bracelet? Aurora had crafted and gifted the jewelry to her sister on her last birthday. Made of spun silver in an ancient filigree design, the bracelet would have been a prized treasure on any fairy’s arm, if it weren’t for the fact that Aurora planned to use it to kidnap a human.

  Four stones of pink granite were embedded in the silver metal at equal intervals. Four stones representing the four days she had to find Queen Titania’s latest folly, the musician, and steal him away. As soon as she twisted the first stone, her time as a human would start.

  “Here goes nothing.” She took a deep breath and held it, grasping the first stone between her thumb and forefinger, and tugged.

  In an instant she sprouted like Jack’s giant beanstalk. Higher and higher she rose as the world shrunk down around her feet. What appeared a wild jungle before was really some sort of unkempt human garden. The wall was the boundary of a dirty pond...and poor Manuel still lay on his side catching his breath, the white cloth on his wing shrunk down to a small rag. The first pink stone turned to black mica.

  The clock had started. She had four days to find the human or forfeit her freedom.

  Scooping the injured Manuel in her palm, she searched for an exit. The sooner they left, the sooner they could find the Reed-man.

  But where was she?

  A quick inspection revealed a sign with a religious symbol. Elder fairies had spun so many tales about the humans that she actually recognized something. She could be in a churchyard.

  Lights peeked through the metal bars of a gate, signaling a possible exit. She took a step, but then…the sound of reedy pipes froze her in her tracks.

  Fairies! Her eyes zigzagged around the yard. Where were they? A regimented beat played on pipes nearby.

  The sound…it came from within the church. Now, that was odd as fairies disregarded human religion. What were they doing inside the church? Maybe they needed help? She took a last, lingering look at the gate, then turned toward the building. It wouldn’t take long to free any fairy-folk using her giant human size. Perhaps they could return the favor and help her locate the man? Then if all went well, she could be back in the forest by morning.

  Locating a tall, thick door, she tugged it open. Fuzzy dandelions! If she had been in fairy form, there would have been no way she could have opened it. The interior of the church was cloaked in shadows. She sniffed; a weird smell irritated her nostrils. Some light from outside snuck in through the tall stained glass windows, casting long shapes against the wall.

  This place was creepy. Why did humans scare themselves by worshiping in these buildings? She’d rather be outside frolicking in nature, sipping from honeysuckle bushes, and dancing circles in the meadow.

  She followed the hallway toward the sounds of fairies marching. She opened the next door, and a warm wall of music embraced her. Rows and rows of long empty seats took up most of the room. There was a fancy stage and an altar of some sort. The music seemed to be coming from all over the place, surrounding her, passing through her—Aurora closed her eyes—filling her up. She could imagine being in the forest marching along with her cousins Zilkah and Milkah. The melody seemed to transport her home

  Abruptly, the music stopped, and a male voice boomed into the silence. “You’re late.”

  2

  She jumped and swung her head wildly to find the source of the masculine sound and stumbled over her feet. Curse her human body! It was so clumsy. That morning she couldn’t get her arms around a shelled pecan and now she was a tall giant with…she glanced down in disgust…with chest bumps.

  How do human women walk with these things?

  “What?” How could she be late? She hadn’t even known her destination until a few moments before. The top of a blond head popped up over a wooden box situated in front of the sidewall. She placed Manuel on a burgundy velvet cushion near the doorwa
y to keep him safe before approaching the male.

  His eyebrows drew together over his eyes.

  Is this what a human male looks like?

  All in all, she was not impressed. He was too big all over. Even sitting he appeared too tall, his shoulders and physique much larger than any fairy’s, and his face was too stern.

  Yes, yes…that was it. Stern and hard all over.

  Like a rock.

  Her disappointment escaped in a long exhale. After all the tales the elders weaved of fairies that trespassed into the human lands, she’d been excited to meet them…and she got this one. Still, it didn’t matter what he looked like, her goal was clear—find Dexter Bryce Reed and kidnap him.

  The wooden box he sat behind was a different story. The elders never told any stories about these things. There were three rows of white and black buttons. He pressed a white button and the fairy pipe sound erupted throughout the room.

  The human made fairy music.

  He stopped what he was doing and swiveled on the bench. Curious blue eyes sparkled at her, and glimpses of sadness rippled beneath the surface of those bottomless pools. “Did Fern send you? I was expecting you about 30 minutes ago.”

  How did he know their fairy march? The human must possess magical ability. Could he be a faeborn, a human born with fairy blood, sent to waylay her from her mission?

  There was nothing Titania would love more than to cause trouble by tricking her champion into failing, then two souls would be beholden to the fairy queen forever. “Fern? Maybe.” She knew lots of ferns. There was that sly fern by the ancient oak that still owed her a favor.

  “Can you read music?” He gestured toward the paper in front of him.

  “I don’t know.” She’d never ‘read’ music in her life. Fairies played by embracing music in their hearts until it radiated throughout their bodies and came out in their fingertips and lips. But reading music? How was that going to work?

  “I’ll take that as a ‘no’. No matter. I need some help.” After a pause to scan the dark interior of the large room, he continued, “And you’re the only person here.” He patted a spot on the bench next to him. “Sit here, and when I nod my head all you have to do is turn the page.”

  The opportunity to hear the music again drew her closer to the man. He sat on a long bench between the box and one wall of the room. She’d have to squeeze past him to get to where he wanted her to sit.

  All his attention was on the page in front of him. His brows furrowed, and his lips pursed as he wriggled his fingers silently over the white and black buttons.

  She started to slide past him, but those annoying chest bumps touched his back. The warmth of his body burned through her wispy garments as she squeezed between him and the wall. Tingles of heat radiated from the contact, sending sweet syrup throughout her arms and legs. Shocked by the new sensations, she paused. When he stiffened and scooted forward on the bench until there was more room for her, she eased past him.

  At the end of the long bench, she took a closer look at the box he sat behind. Besides the white and black strips, there were round white buttons on each side. She looked down at his feet. There were more things down there. Was he supposed to play all of these things?

  “What is this?” She waved her arm to encompass the wooden box and the noisy metal on the walls.

  “This is a pipe organ. The console has three rows of keys or keyboards.” He gestured under the large box. “Pedals for my feet, 62 ranks or stops.” He pointed at the rows and rows of metal pipes in the walls. “And four thousand pipes. And I’m Dallas Tanner. Who are you?”

  “Aurora.” The human—Dallas—would probably not appreciate her full title, Princess Aurora of Barton Hills, as much as fairy folk.

  “Just Aurora?” He stopped moving and glanced at the paper in front of him. He picked up a stick and scribbled on the paper.

  Writing! The elders often spoke of it. She wanted to clap her hands. She would have so many stories to tell when she got home——if she got home. She slid on the bench until they were sitting side by side. Close enough to see his full lips and the golden bristles on his cheeks and chin. He didn’t seem so stern now.

  “Just Aurora,” she confirmed with a brisk nod, “Your music sounded like fairies marching in the forest,” she said and closed her eyes so she could picture the merry band of fairy folk marching up and down the hills.

  “I’m sure that’s what Handel had in mind when he wrote it.”

  She jerked her eyes open in alarm, “Do you think Handel ever saw uh…uh, fairies?” The third law of fairy folk dictated they never be seen by humans.

  “If he did, he kept it to himself.” He picked up some of the papers and shuffled through them. He picked another out and opened it up so they could both see. She had seen words, but these symbols on the paper didn’t look like any writing she’d seen before.

  “You can read this?” She pointed to the rows of black dots and lines dancing up and down along the page.

  “Mm-hmm.” He pulled some buttons out and pressed a few levers down. “Excuse me,” he said before he reached an arm out in front of her, pressing some more buttons. He glanced at the material on the front of her beaded dress. Again she was unprepared for the cascade of liquid heat taking her breath away and leaving a slow ache in low places.

  He placed his large hands on the keyboard, took a large inhale, then pressed down on the keys. Music, full of melancholy and bittersweet longing, swelled around her. Someone in the song searched for someone else who was lost. The humans could keep their sadness; she did not care for it. Prickles stung her eyes and she reached up, surprised to see droplets on her fingers. Tears. She wiped them away when he nodded his head.

  Oh, she was supposed to turn the page.

  After grasping the edge of the page, she flicked it over, then gave him a little smile. She’d done it. He continued to play the sad piece. The muscles along his thighs bunched and strained as he moved his feet along the pedals. His strong hands were lightly dusted by gold hair, which caught the overhead lights as his long fingers caressed the keys. His gaze flicked from his hands to his feet as if to make sure his arms and legs were all moving together. She was transfixed watching him. It was almost as if he swayed in time with the sad music.

  The piece ended, and he turned to give her a quick smile before picking up his writing stick again and jotting down a few signs. He transformed when he smiled, and she couldn’t wait to see him smile again. If only she could stay, but she was on a mission.

  “What was that song about? It was so sad.”

  “A piece by a composer named Maurice Duruflé. It’s a requiem, a song written in memory of someone who’s died. In this case it was composed in memory of his father. Duruflé spent years working on this song, but was never really satisfied with what he wrote.”

  “He must have adored his father to be so devoted to his memory.” Her mother. She shouldn’t even be here wasting time while her mom was trapped in her aunt’s iron cage. His bewitching sounds made her forget. Would she ever see her mother again? The task forced upon her by Aunt Titania seemed insurmountable. A sudden sense of urgency had her scrambling off the bench. “I have to go.” Her bare feet touched the cold floor, and she gasped.

  He glanced at his watch, “You’re right. We over stayed our welcome. Thank you for your help. Will I see you tomorrow?”

  “Perhaps.” She didn’t know. She didn’t even know how she was going to find the Reed-man. Hopefully by tomorrow she’d be far away from here with her captive.

  “How long will you be in town?”

  “I was only allowed four days.” Four days. Just four days to find one needle in a sea of human haystack.

  “Are you here for the music festival? South by Southwest?”

  “Yes, I’m looking for Dexter Bryce Reed.” She glanced at the door she’d entered, took a few steps toward it, and waited for a diplomatic way to exit his company.

  “A fan, huh? Dexter should be at my conc
ert and the after party.” She jerked her head to gape at the man. He waved a hand as if he didn’t want to make a big deal of their association. “I know him from way back. We spent some time together…at a hospital…getting better.”

  Dallas knew the other male? She didn’t know what a hospital was, but perhaps this would be a better plan. Maybe she still had a touch of magic left in her?

  “What concert?” Slimy snail trails. He might be her only lead to finding Titania’s ransom. She could stay with him and then wait for the Reed-man to come to her. Or take a chance and find the Reed-man alone?

  “In four days, I’ll give a concert with the Austin Choir,” he paused, but she could tell he wanted to say more. “The concert will also be a try-out performance for a position as their full-time accompanist.” She had no idea what he was saying, and he must have seen her puzzled look, so he clarified, “If I do well, I’ll get hired.”

  “Is that a good thing?”

  Humans and their jobs. Why did work have to sound like…work?

  Even fairies had duties throughout the day, but they did them with songs in their hearts and joy in their feet.

  “It’s definitely a good thing around here…and who knows what other gigs might come my way because of this concert?” He followed to where she halted by the first row of seats and stared intently into her eyes.

  She was trapped by the piercing blue color. They reminded her of bluebonnets on a spring day. No, bluebonnets were darker. Perhaps his eyes were the color of sky on a clear summer morning? She could spend all of her four days trying to discern their color. They reminded her of Barton Creek, which made her feel warm, safe, and less alone in Austin.

  He gave her a slow grin filled with wickedness, “And it’ll be extremely helpful if I have a reliable page turner who’ll make sure I don’t miss any notes.”

  She picked up a sleeping Manuel off his cushion and headed for the door, “I’ll be here tomorrow.” Maybe. It depended on if she could find the Reed-man.